“I’ve seen smaller,” remarked Mrs. Evringham.

When finally they entered the dining-room punctually at the appointed hour,—­even Mrs. Evringham dared take no liberties with that,—­the host was there and greeted them as usual.  Mrs. Forbes came in and took her position near him.  Her employer gave her a side glance.  His fears for Jewel allayed, his regard for his housekeeper’s opinions had returned in full force.

He wished to ask for the little girl, to ask what she was doing now, and what she would like sent up for dinner, but he had not the courage.  The aghast countenance which Mrs. Forbes had exhibited at the moment when the enormity of Jewel’s conduct transpired remained in his memory.  The housekeeper’s appearance at present was noncommittal.  Mrs. Evringham sent her piercing and questioning glances in vain.

The silence in the usually silent room had not had time to become noticeable when the portiere was pushed aside and Jewel, arrayed in the dotted dress and carefully bearing the tall vase of nodding roses, entered the room.

Mrs. Evringham uttered a little cry and dropped her spoon.  Eloise stared wild-eyed.  The housekeeper flushed.

“Good evening,” said the child, glancing about as she approached, and sighing with relief as she set the heavy vase on the edge of the table.  “I had to come down so carefully not to spill, grandpa, that it made me a little late.  Mrs. Forbes said you brought me the roses under false—­false pretends, so I thought perhaps you would like them on the table.”

The housekeeper, hurrying forward, seized the vase from its precarious position and placed it in the centre of the board.  “I didn’t tell you you might come downstairs,” she said, as she buttoned the middle button of Jewel’s dress.

The little girl looked up in innocent surprise.  “You said I might dress me, so why should anybody have to bring up my dinner?” she asked.

Mrs. Forbes’s countenance looked so lowering that Mr. Evringham hastened to speak in his brusque and final fashion.  “She is here now.  Might as well let her stay.”

Jewel jumped into her chair and turned toward him with an apologetic smile.  “I couldn’t make my hair look very nice,” she said, with the lift of her shoulders which he had come to connect with her confidential moments.  Remembering the feverish child of the morning, he looked at her in silent wonder.  The appearance of her flaxen head he could see was in contrast to the trim and well-cared-for look it had worn when she arrived.

“Poor little thing!” he thought.  “She looks motherless—­motherless.”  Involuntarily he cast a glance of impatience at his other guests.  The expression of blank amazement on their faces stirred him to amusement.

“If you are afraid of infection, Madge, don’t hesitate to retire to your room,” he said.  “Your dinner will be sent to you.”

“What does this mean!” ejaculated Mrs. Evringham.  “Why is Dr. Ballard coming twice a day to see that child?”