“What makes you so sure?” returned Mrs. Evringham banteringly.

Jewel flushed with embarrassment and glanced at her grandfather involuntarily, but he was busy eating and evidently would not help her.

“I’d rather not say,” replied the child at last, and her rejoinder incited her aunt to further merriment.

“Aunt Madge doesn’t laugh in a nice way,” thought Jewel.  “It’s even pleasanter when she looks sorry.”

“What is real then, Jewel?” asked Eloise gravely.

The child flashed upon her a sweet look.

“Everything good and glad,” she answered.

Something rose in the girl’s throat, and she pressed her lips together for an instant.

“You are happy to believe that,” she returned.

“Oh, I don’t believe it,” replied Jewel.  “It’s one of the things I know.  Mother says we only believe things when we aren’t sure about them.  Mother knows such a lot of beautiful truth.”

The child looked at her cousin wistfully as she spoke.  Eloise could scarcely retain her proud and nonchalant bearing beneath the blue eyes.  They seemed to see through to her wretchedness.

She did not look at Jewel again during dinner.  At the close Mr. Evringham pushed his chair back.

“I should like you to come with me into my study, Jewel, for a few minutes.”

The child’s face brightened, and she left the table with alacrity.  Mr. Evringham stood back to allow his guests to pass out.  They went on to the drawing-room, where Mrs. Evringham’s self-restraint was loosed.

“The plot thickens, Eloise!” she said.

“And we are not going away,” returned the girl.

“Decidedly not,” declared her mother with emphasis.

“There is no hope of our catching anything that Jewel has now,” went on Eloise.

Her mother glanced at her suspiciously.  “What, for instance?”

“Oh,” returned the girl, shrugging her shoulder, “faith, hope, and charity.”

Mrs. Evringham laughed.  “Indeed!  Is the wind in that quarter?  Then with the Christian Science microbe in the house, there’s no telling what may happen to you.  Something more serious than a fever, perhaps.”  She nodded knowingly.  “This sudden recovery looks very queer to me.  I’d keep the child in bed if I were in authority.  Some diseases are so treacherous.  There’s walking typhoid fever, for instance.  She may have it for all we know.  I shall have a very serious talk with Dr. Ballard when he comes.”

An ironical smile flitted over the girl’s lips as she drifted toward the piano.  “I judge from the remarks at the table, that the less you say to Dr. Ballard on the subject of to-day’s experiences the better.”

“I know it,” indignantly.  “I’m sure that child must have played some practical joke on him.  I want to get to the bottom of it.  What a strange little monkey she is!  How long will father stand it?  What did you think, Eloise, when she swooped upon him so suddenly?”