“Yes, grandpa,” Jewel nodded eagerly.  She was so glad to have him understand.  “She just turned the light, Truth, right into me.”

“She prayed to the Creator to cure you, you mean.”

Jewel looked off.  “No, not that,” she answered slowly, searching for words to make her meaning plain.  “God doesn’t have to be begged to do anything, because He can’t change, He is always the same, and always perfect, and always giving us everything good, and it’s only for us—­not to believe—­in the things that seem to get in the way.  I was believing there was something in the way, and that lady knew there wasn’t, and she knew it so well that the old dark fever couldn’t stay.  Nothing can stay that God doesn’t make—­not any longer than we let it cheat us.”

“And she was a thousand miles away,” remarked Mr. Evringham.

“Why, grandpa,” returned Jewel, “there isn’t any space in Spirit.”  She gave a little sigh.  “I’m real sorry you’re too big to be let into the Christian Science Sunday-School.”

Mrs. Forbes lips fell apart.

“One moment more, Jewel,” said Mr. Evringham.  “Mrs. Forbes was telling me of the gentleman who spoke to you on the trolley car yesterday.”

“Oh yes,” returned the child, smiling at the pleasing memory.  “The Christian Scientist!”

“What makes you think he is a Christian Scientist?” asked Mr. Evringham.

“I know he was.  He had on the pin.”  Jewel showed the one she wore, and her grandfather examined the little cross and crown curiously.

“I wonder if it’s possible,” he soliloquized aloud.

“Oh yes, grandpa, he is one, and if he’s a friend of yours he can explain to you so much better than a little girl can.”

After the child had left the room Mr. Evringham and his housekeeper stood regarding one another.  His usually unsmiling countenance was relaxed.  Mrs. Forbes observed his novel expression, but did not suspect that the light twinkling in his deep-set eyes was partly due to the sight of her own pent-up emotion.

He hooked one thumb in his vest and balanced his eyeglasses in his other hand.

“Well, what do you think of her?” he inquired.

“I think, sir,” returned the housekeeper emphatically, “that if anybody bought that child for a fool he wouldn’t get his money’s worth.”

“Even though she is a Scientist?” added Mr. Evringham, his mustache curving in a smile.

“She’s too smart for me.  I don’t like children to be so smart.  The idea of her setting up to teach you Mr. Evringham!”

“That shouldn’t be so surprising.  I read a long time ago something about certain things being concealed from the wise and prudent and revealed unto babes.”

“Babes!” repeated Mrs. Forbes.  “We’ve been the babes.  If that young one can lie in bed with a fever, and wind every one of us around her finger the way she’s done to-day, what can we expect when she’s up and around?”