Of course there was a village and on its edge a dear, clean old farmhouse where they all lived, and in whose barn Essex Maid and Star found stables.  Then there were rides every pleasant day, over cool, rolling country, and woods where one was as liable to find shells as flowers.  There were wide, flat fields of grain, above which the moon sailed at night; each spot had its attraction, but the beach was the place where Jewel found the greatest joy; and while Mr. Evringham, in the course of his life, had taken part to the full in the social activities of a summer resort where men are usually scarce and proportionately prized, it can be safely said that he now set out upon the most strenuous vacation of his entire career.

It was his habit in moments of excitement or especial impressiveness to address his daughter-in-law as “madam,” and on the second morning after their arrival, as she was sitting on the sand, viewing the great bottle-green rollers that marched unendingly landward, she noticed her father-in-law and Jewel engaged in deep discussion, where they stood, between her and the water.

Mr. Evringham had just come to the beach, and the incessant noise of the waves made eavesdropping impossible; but his gestures and Jewel’s replies roused her curiosity.  The child’s bathing-suit was dripping, and her pink toes were submerged by the rising tide, when her grandfather seized her hand and led her back to where her mother was sitting.

“Madam,” he said, “this child mustn’t overdo this business.  She tells me she has been splashing about for some time, already.”

“And I’m not a bit cold, mother,” declared Jewel.

“H’m.  Her hands are like frogs’ paws, madam.  I can see she is a perfect water-baby and will want to be in the waves continually.  She says you are perfectly willing.  Then it is because you are ignorant.  She should go in once a day, madam, once a day.”

“Oh, grandpa!” protested Jewel, “not even wade?”

“We’ll speak of that later; but put on your bathing-suit once a day only.”

Mr. Evringham looked down at the glowing face seriously.  Jewel lifted her wet shoulders and returned his look.

“Put it on in the morning, then, and keep it on all day?” she suggested, smiling.

“At the proper hour,” he went on, “the bathing master is here.  Then you will go in, and your mother, I hope.”

“And you, too, grandpa?”

“Yes, and I’ll teach you to jump the waves.  I taught your father in this very place when he was your age.”

“Oh, goody!” Jewel jumped up and down on the warm sand.  “What fun it must have been to be your little boy!” she added.

Mr. Evringham refrained from looking at his daughter-in-law.  He suspected that she knew better.

“Look at all this white sand,” he said.  “This was put here for babies like you to play with.  Old ocean is too big a comrade for you.”

“I just love the foam,” returned the child wistfully, “and, oh, grandpa,” eagerly, “I tasted of it and it’s as salt!”