"Divine Love has been so kind to us, dearie," she said softly, as she pressed the child closer to her. "He has brought father and mother back across the ocean and has given you such loving friends while we were gone."
In a future day Mrs. Evringham was to learn something of the inner history of the progress of this little pilgrim during her first days at Bel-Air; but the shadows had so entirely faded from Jewel's consciousness that she could not have told it herself—not even such portions of it as she had once realized.
"Yes, indeed, I love Bel-Air and all the people. Even aunt Madge kissed me when she went away and said 'Good-by, you queer little thing!'"
"What did she mean?" asked Mrs. Evringham.
"I don't know. I didn't tell grandpa, because I thought he might not like people calling me queer, but I asked Zeke."
"He's Mr. Evringham's coachman, isn't he?"
"Yes, and he's the nicest man, but he only told me that aunt Madge had wheels. I asked him what kind of wheels, and he said he guessed they were rubber-tired, because she was always rubbering and she made people tired. You know Zeke is such a joker, so I haven't found out yet what aunt Madge meant, and it isn't any matter because"—Jewel reached up and hugged her mother, "you've come home."
Here the two men approached. "No more time for spooning," said Harry cheerfully. "We're going now, little girls."
After all, there was nothing for Jewel to carry. Her father and grandfather had the dress-suit case and bags.
Mrs. Evringham looked inquiringly at her husband, but he was gayly talking with Jewel as the four walked out to the street.