Jewel watched the kind eyes attentively.  “So you see,” he went on, “all I had to do was to look for Anna Belle.”

“And you nearly sat on her,” declared the child.

“I deny it,” returned the doctor gravely.  “I deny it.  You weren’t looking.  For one second I was afraid you were crying.”

“Crying!  What would I be crying for, coming to have a lovely visit at grandpa’s!”

“I suppose you are in a hurry to see your aunt and cousin?” remarked the doctor.

“Yes, but I don’t know them.  You see,” explanatorily, “they aren’t my real relations.”

“Indeed?”

“No, aunt Madge is my uncle’s wife and cousin Eloise is her little girl, but not uncle Lawrence’s.”

The doctor thought a minute.

“Really?  She is a very charming little girl, is your cousin Eloise.  Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

“My name is Jewel.”

“And I am Dr. Ballard, so now we are properly introduced.”  He smiled upon her with merry eyes, and she responded politely:—­

“I’m very glad you found us.”

Arrived at Bel-Air, the doctor picked up his case and Jewel followed him from the train.  He looked about expectantly for Mrs. Evringham or her daughter.  They were not there.

The little girl’s quick eyes discerned a light-haired driver and a brown horse coming around a curve of the pretty landscape gardening which beautified the station.  At the same moment Dr. Ballard recognized the equipage with relief.

“They’ve sent for you.  That is all right,” he said, and ’Zekiel, with one side glance at the little stranger, drew up by the platform.

“Good-morning, Zeke.  Here is your passenger.”  He lifted Jewel to her place beside the driver, whose smooth, stolid face did not change expression.

“Do I wait for Mr. Evringham?” he asked, without turning his head in its stiff collar.

“No, Mr. Evringham remained in town.”

“Is there a trunk?” pursued Zeke immovably.

“How about your trunk, little one?” asked the doctor.

Jewel produced a paper check.  “A man gave grandpa this for it at the boat place.”

“I’ll see to having it sent up then.”  The doctor looked along the platform.  “It didn’t come this trip.”  He took the child’s hand in his.  “I shall see you again before long.  Good-by.”

Jewel looked after his retreating figure with some regret.  Her present companion seemed carved out of wood.  His plum-colored livery fitted without a wrinkle.  His smooth, solemn face appeared incapable of speech.

The swift horse trotted through the village street at a great pace, and the visitor enjoyed the novel experience so intensely that she could not forbear stealing a look up at the driver’s face.

He caught it.  “Ain’t afraid, are you?” he asked.

She looked doubtful.  “Is it error for the horse to go so fast?” she returned.