Mr. Evringham waved one hand toward his daughter while he seized the mast.  “Tell Harry we left our love,” he cried.

“Dear me, Jewel, what are you doing!” called Mrs. Evringham.

“It’s mine, mother, it’s mine,” cried the child, lifting her head to shout it, and then ducking back into the broker’s silk shirt front.

“What do you mean?” asked Mrs. Evringham, coming gingerly out upon the wharf, which was such an unsteady old affair that she had remained on terra firma.

“Why, you see,” responded Mr. Evringham, “the farmhouse boat wasn’t so impossible for two old sea-dogs like Jewel and me, but when it came to inviting her lady mother to go out with us, I saw that we must have something else.  Well, it seems as if Jewel approved of this.”

He winked at his daughter over the flaxen head on his breast.

“What a fortunate, fortunate girl!” exclaimed Julia.  “I can hardly wait to sit on one of those beautiful red cushions.”

“Jewel will invite you pretty soon, I think,” said Mr. Evringham.  “I hope so, for one of my feet is turned in and she is standing on it, but I wouldn’t have her get off until she is entirely ready.”

He could feel the child swallowing hard, and though she moved her little feet, she could not lift her face.

“Grandpa,” she began, in an unsteady, muffled tone, “I didn’t tease you too much about the old boat, did I?”

“No,—­no, child!”

“Shall you—­shall you like this one, too?”

“Well, I should rather think so.  I have to give all my shoes to the poor as it is.  I’ve nothing left fit to put on but my riding-boots.  How shall we go over to the beach this time, Jewel, row or sail?  Your mother is waiting for you to ask her to get in.”

Slowly the big bows behind the child’s ears came down into their normal position.  She kissed her grandfather fervently and then turned her flushed face and eyes toward her mother.

“Come in, so you can see the boat’s name,” she said, and her smile shone out like sunshine from an April sky.

“Give me your hand, then, dearie.  You know I’m a poor city girl and haven’t a very good balance.”

The name was duly examined, and Mrs. Evringham’s “oh’s” of wonder and admiration were long-drawn.

“See the darling cushions, mother.  You can wear your best clothes here.  It’s just like a parlor!”

“A very narrow parlor, Jewel.  Move carefully.”  Mrs. Evringham had seated herself in the stern.  “Perhaps I can help with the rudder,” she added, taking hold of the lines.

“Just as the admiral says,” returned the broker.

“Oh, grandpa, you’ll have to be the admiral,” said Jewel excitedly.  “I’ll be the crew and”—­

“And the owner,” suggested Mr. Evringham.

“Yes!  Oh, mother, what will father say!”

“He’ll say that you are a very happy, fortunate little girl, and that Divine Love is always showing your grandpa how to do kind things for you.”