“I ain’t surprised.  That child can’t surprise me.”

“But what do you think of it, ma?  I tell you ’t was queer, the way that mare’s pain stopped.  Of course I ain’t going to believe—­but,” firmly, “I can’t get away from a notion that those Christian Science folks know something that we don’t.  Busby was madder’n a hornet.  I didn’t scarcely know what to say to him.”

“Don’t be soft, Zeke,” returned his mother, picking up the kettle.  “The time for superstition has gone by.”

As Jewel and her grandfather entered the house they heard music.

“That’s cousin Eloise playing.  Have you heard her grandpa?”

“Yes, when they first came.”

“Than you haven’t sat with them in the evening for a long time?” suggested the child.

“No.  I—­I didn’t wish to monopolize their society.  I wanted to give Dr. Ballard a chance.  He is a friend of theirs, you know.”

“Yes, but I think cousin Eloise would be glad if she thought you liked her playing.  It’s very beautiful, isn’t it, grandpa?”

“Yes, I dare say.  Then, besides, I’m not at all sure that Mrs. Evringham would permit me to smoke in the drawing-room.”

“But wouldn’t it be nice to go in there just a few minutes before you go to your study?  I love to hear cousin Eloise play, but I like to be with you, grandpa.”

Mr. Evringham was in a yielding state of mind.  He allowed the pressure of the child’s hand on his to lead him to the drawing-room, where his entrance made a little stir.

Dr. Ballard was sitting near the piano, listening to the music.  Everybody rose as the newcomers entered.

“How are you, Ballard?  Jewel wished to hear her cousin’s music, and so behold us.  If we bring a reminder of the stable, blame her.”

“Oh father, that dear horse is all right, I’m sure,” gushed Mrs. Evringham, “or else you wouldn’t be here!”

“What?  Something the matter with Essex Maid?” asked Dr. Ballard with concern.

“Yes.”  Mr. Evringham seated himself.  “A sharp attack, but short.  She was relieved before we could get Busby here.”  The speaker contracted his eyebrows and looked at the child, who was still beside him.  “The mare had received mental treatments meanwhile,” he added gravely.

Dr. Ballard smiled, and drawing Jewel to him, lifted her upon his knee.  “Look here,” he said, “can’t you let anything around here be sick in peace?  We doctors shall have to form a union and manage to get you boycotted.”

The child smiled back at him, her head a little on one side, as her manner was when she was in doubt how to respond.

“What a blessing!” exclaimed Mrs. Evringham vivaciously.  “Here, father, is the best cup of coffee you ever drank, if I did make it myself.”

Many weeks had elapsed since the broker had accepted a cup of coffee from that fair hand, but he rose now to take it with good grace.

“Is there going to be some cambric tea for this baby?” inquired Dr. Ballard.