“Very well, we will; but first I have a couple of visits I must make.”

The horse was now trotting toward the park gate.  As they reached it Dr. Ballard returned Anna Belle and took the lines.

Jewel gave an unconscious sigh of rapture.  “Trolleys and so on, you know,” explained Dr. Ballard.  “When you come back ten years from now you shall drive outside too.  How was Essex Maid this morning?”

“She was all right, but grandpa took only a short ride.  I guess he was a little—­bit—­afraid.”

“She’s the apple of his eye, or he wouldn’t have been so nervous over a trifle last evening,” remarked the doctor.

“Well, she made a great fuss,” replied Jewel.  “She fell down in her stall, and everything like that.”

“Did she really?”

“Yes.  Zeke said his knees were shaking.”

“But she was all right by the time Dr. Busby arrived?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Ballard looked at his small companion, a quizzical smile curving his mustache.

“I’ve never thought of taking a partner, Jewel, but I might consider a mascot.  What do you say to sharing my office and being my mascot?  Special high chair for Anna Belle, be it well understood.”

The little girl eyed him, her head on one side.  It was her experience that all men were jokers.  “I don’t know what a mascot is,” she replied.

“It’s something or somebody that brings one good luck.”

“Do you think I could bring you good luck?”

“It looks that way.  Of course there are certain rules you would have to observe.  It wouldn’t do for you to talk against materia medica to the patients in the anteroom.”

“What is an anteroom?”

“The place where my patients wait until I can see them in my office.”

Jewel lifted her shoulders and smiled.  “I might read them ’Science and Health’ while they waited, and then they wouldn’t have to go in.”

Dr. Ballard’s laugh rang heartily along the leafy street.  “Is that your idea of mascoting a poor young physician?” he inquired.

Jewel laughed in sympathy.  She didn’t quite understand him, but she knew that they were having a very good time.

Pretty soon her companion drove in at the gate of an imposing old residence, set back from the street where the trolley ran with an air of withdrawing from the intrusion of these modern tracks.

“I thought it wouldn’t injure your conscience to wait for me while I made a couple of professional visits, Jewel, eh?” he asked, as he jumped out and fastened Hector to the ring in the hand of a bronze boy.  “I won’t be any longer than I can help, and don’t you go to hoodooing me, now, while I’m upstairs.”  The doctor returned to the buggy and took the black case, frowning warningly at the child.  “I have troubles enough here without that.  This old lady used to trot me on her knee, and she wants to spend half an hour every morning proving that doctors don’t know anything before she’ll let me get to business.”