Life had not taught the child to be shy, as has been evidenced; so although Mrs. Forbes was an awing experience, she felt strong in the presence of her important grandfather, and only kept silence now in order not to interrupt his reading.

When at last he laid down his paper and began to chip an egg, Jewel glanced at those which Mrs. Forbes had set before her.  Her little face had grown very serious.

“Grandpa, do you think it’s error for me not to like eggs?” she asked.  “Mother never said it was.  She was willing I should eat something else.”

“Of course, eat whatever you like,” responded Mr. Evringham quickly.

Mrs. Forbes seemed to swell and grow pink.  “You always have eggs, sir, and if there’s two breakfasts to be got, will you kindly tell me what the other shall be?”

Mr. Evringham glanced up in some surprise at the unfamiliar tone.

“Oh, the oatmeal is a plenty,” said Jewel, looking at the housekeeper, eager to mollify her.

“Try an egg.  Perhaps you’ll like them by this time,” suggested Mr. Evringham.

“Do you like everything to eat, grandpa?”

Mr. Evringham, being most arbitrary and peculiar in his tastes, could only gain time by clearing his throat again, and taking a drink of coffee.

“Mrs. Forbes will bring you a glass of milk, I dare say,” he returned at last, without looking up; and the housekeeper turned with ponderous obedience and left the room.

Nimbly Jewel slid down from her chair, and running around the table to her grandfather’s place, put both her arms around his neck and whispered to him eagerly and swiftly, “If you have such a pro—­something respect for Mrs. Forbes, and it makes her sorry because I won’t eat eggs, perhaps I ought to.  If it offends thy brother to have you eat meat, you mustn’t, the Bible says, so I suppose, if it makes Mrs. Forbes turn red and perhaps get the stomach ache to have me not eat eggs, I ought to; but grandpa, if you decide I must, please let me wait till to-morrow morning, so I can say the Scientific Statement of Being all day—­”

Here Mrs. Forbes entered with a glass of milk on a little tray.  She stood transfixed at the sight that met her.

“That child hasn’t the fear of man before her eyes!” she ejaculated mentally, then she marched forward and deposited the milk beside Jewel’s empty plate, while the child ran back and took her seat.

Mr. Evringham, gazing at his visitor in mute astonishment, was much disconcerted to receive a confiding gesture of raised shoulders and eyebrows, which, combined with a little smile, plainly signified that they had been caught.  He took up his newspaper mechanically.

He had never had a daughter, and caresses had seldom passed between him and his children.  His duties as a family man had always been perfunctory.  He was tingling now from the surprise of Jewel’s action, the feeling of the little gingham clad arms about his neck, the touch of the rose-leaf skin as she swept his cheek and ear in her emphatic half-whisper.