Jewel: A Chapter in Her Life

  CHAPTER XXII

  IN THE HARNESS ROOM

  "Mother, can I have three dollars?" asked Eloise the next morning.

  "Were you thinking of a new riding hat, dear? I do wish you had it towear this afternoon. Yours is shabby, certainly, but you can't get itfor that, child."

  "No; I was thinking of a copy of 'Science and Health.' I don't like totake Jewel's any longer, and I'm convinced."

  "What of--sin?" asked Mrs. Evringham in dismay.

  "No, just the opposite--that there needn't be any. The book teaches thetruth. I know it."

  "Well, whether it does or doesn't, you haven't any three dollars tospend for a book, Eloise," was the firm reply. "The _idea_, when I canbarely rake and scrape enough together to keep us presentable!"

  "Where do you get our money?" asked the girl.

  "Father gives me a check every fortnight. Of course you know that he hascharge of our affairs."

  Eloise's serene expression did not change. She looked at the littleblack book in her hand. "This edition costs five dollars," she said.

  "Scandalous!" exclaimed Mrs. Evringham. "I can tell you this is no timefor us to be collecting _editions de luxe_. Wait till you're married."

  "I'm going to run in town for a while this morning, mother."

  "You are? Well don't get belated. You know that you are to ride with Dr.Ballard at half past four. Dear me," her brow drawn, "you ought to havethat hat. Now I think that I _could_ get on without that jet bolero."

  Eloise laughed softly and drew her mother to her. "Have your jet bolero,dear," she answered. "My hat isn't bad."

  Eloise went to her room, and closing the door, took from one of herdrawers a box. It contained her girlish treasures, the ornaments andjewels her father had given her from time to time. She took out a smalldiamond ring and pressed it to her lips.

  "Dear papa! I love it because you gave it to me, but I can get with it awonderful thing, a truth which, if we had known it, would have saved youall those torturing hours, would have saved your dear life. I know howgladly you would have me get it now, for you are learning it too; and itwill be your gift, dear, _dear_ papa, your gift just the same."

  Jewel had to study the lesson with only Anna Belle's assistance thatmorning, but she received the third letter from her mother and father.Their trip was proving a success from the standpoints of both businessand pleasure, but their chief longing was to get back to their littlegirl.

  It was very like visiting with them to read it over, and Jewel did somore than once. "I'll show it to cousin Eloise as soon as she comeshome," she reflected. Then she dressed Anna Belle to go out.

  Running downstairs the child sought and found Mrs. Forbes in thekitchen. The housekeeper no longer questioned her going and coming,although she still considered herself in the light of the child's onlydisciplinarian, and was vigilant to watch for errors of omission andcommission, and quick to correct them.

  "Mrs. Forbes, may I have an old kitchen knife?"

  "Certainly not. You'll cut yourself."

  "I want it to dig up plants."

  Mrs. Forbes stared down at her. "Why, you mustn't do any such thing."

  "I mean wild flowers for a garden that Anna Belle and I are going tomake."

  "Oh. I'll see if I can't find you a trowel."

  There was one at hand, and as the housekeeper passed it to the child shewarned her:--

  "Be careful you don't make a mistake, now, and get hold of anybody'splants. What did your cousin Eloise go to New York for?"

  "I don't know."

  "Well I hope it's for her trousseau."

  Jewel smiled. "My mother makes those."

  "I don't believe she'll ever make one for you, then," returned Mrs.Forbes, but not ill-naturedly. She laughed, glancing at Sarah, who stoodby.

  "But I think she will for Anna Belle," returned Jewel brightly, "whenshe gets older."

  The housekeeper and maid both laughed. "Run along," said Mrs. Forbes,"and don't you be late for lunch."

  "She's an awful sweet child," said Sarah half reproachfully. "Just thespirit of sunshine."

  "Oh well, they'd turn her head here if it wasn't for me," answered theother complacently.

  Jewel was not late to lunch, but eating it tete-a-tete with aunt Madgewas not to her taste.

  Mrs. Evringham utilized the opportunity to admonish her, and Mrs. Forbesfor once sympathized with the widow's sentiments.

  Aunt Madge took off her eyeglasses in a way she had when she wished tobe particularly impressive.

  "Jewel," she said, "I don't think any one has told you that it isimpolite to Dr. Ballard to say anything about Christian Science in hispresence."

  "Why is it?" asked the child.

  "Because he is a learned physician, and has, of course, a great respectfor his profession."

  "I have a great respect for him," returned the child, "and he knows Iwouldn't hurt his feelings."

  "The idea!" exclaimed Mrs. Evringham, looking down from a height uponthe flaxen head. "As if a little ignorant girl could hurt the feelingsof a man like Dr. Ballard!"

  Mrs. Forbes also stared at the child, and she winced.

  "I do love them, and they do love me," she thought. "I don't rememberever speaking about it before the doctor unless somebody asked me," shesaid aloud.

  "Your cousin Eloise may ask you," returned Mrs. Evringham. "Nobody elsewould. She does it in a spirit of mischief, perhaps, but I shall speakto her. She has a passing curiosity about your ideas because it is oddand rather amusing to find a child who has such unnatural and precociousfancies, and she tries to draw you out; but it will not last with her.Neither will it with you, probably. You seem to be a sensible littlegirl in many ways." Mrs. Evringham made the addition magnanimously. Shereally was too much at peace with all the world just now to like to besevere.

  Outwardly Jewel was silent. Inwardly she was declaring many things whichwould have surprised her companions.

  "Does your cousin Eloise pretend to you that she is becoming seriouslyinterested in your faith?" pursued Mrs. Evringham.

  "She will tell you all about it," returned Jewel.

  Aunt Madge shrugged her shoulders and laughed a little. Her thoughtsreverted to her daughter's trip to the city. She had wonderedseveral times if it had any pleasant connection with her sudden goodunderstanding with Mr. Evringham.

  To Jewel's relief her thoughts remained preoccupied during the remainderof the meal; and as soon as the child could leave, she flew to thecloset under the stairs, where Anna Belle often went into retreat duringthe luncheon hour, and from thence back to the garden she was making bythe brookside.

  When she returned to the house her eyes lighted as she saw two horsesbefore the piazza, and Dr. Ballard standing beside one of them.

  "How are you, Jewel?" he asked, as she danced up to him smiling.Stooping, he lifted her into the side saddle, from whence she beamedupon him.

  "Oh, what fun you're going to have!" she cried.

  "I'd like to be sure of that," he answered, his gloved hand on thepommel.

  "What do you mean?" incredulously. "You don't like that automobilebetter, do you? They're so--so stubby. I must have a horse, a horse!"She smoothed and patted her steed lovingly.

  "You ought to have--Jewel of the world," he said kindly. "My bad angel!"he added, looking up quizzically into her eyes, and smiling at thewidening wonder that grew in them.

  "Your--what?" she asked, and then Eloise came out in her habit.

  "I'm going instead of you," cried the child gayly, "to pay you forstaying away all day."

  "Did you miss me?" asked the girl as she shook hands with her escort.

  "I tried not to. Anna Belle and I have something to show you in theravine." As she spoke, Jewel slid down into the doctor's arms, and stoodon the steps watching while he put Eloise up and mounted himself.

  The child's eyes dwelt upon the pair admiringly as they waved theirhands to her and rode away. Little she knew how their hearts werebeating. Mrs. Evringham, watching from
an upper window, suspected it.She felt that this afternoon would end all suspense.

  The child gave a wistful sigh as the horses disappeared, and jumping offthe piazza, she wandered around the house toward the stable. There hadbeen no rules laid down to her since the night of Essex Maid's attack,and Zeke was always a congenial companion.

  As she neared the barn a young fellow left it, laughing. She knew whohe was,--one of the young men Zeke had known in Boston. He had severaltimes of late come to call on his old chum, for he was out of work.

  As he left the barn he saw the child and slouched off to one side,avoiding her; but she scarcely noticed him, congratulating herself thatZeke would be alone and ready, as usual, to crack jokes and stories.

  The coachman was not in sight as she entered, but she knew she wouldfind him in the harness room. Its door stood ajar, and as thechild approached she heard a strange sound, as of some one weepingsuppressedly. Sturdily resisting the sudden fear that swept to herheart, she pushed open the door.

  There stood Mrs. Forbes, leaning against a wooden support, her foreheadresting against her clasped hands in a hopeless posture, as she sobbedheavily. The air was filled with an odor which had for Jewel sickeningassociations. The only terror, the only tragedy, of her short life waswrapped about with this pungent smell. She seemed again to hear hermother's sobs, to feel once more that sensation of all things coming toruin which descended upon her at the unprecedented sight and sound ofher strong mother's emotion.

  All at once she perceived Zeke sitting on a low chair, his arms hangingacross his knees and his head fallen.

  The child turned very pale. Her doll slid unnoticed to the floor, as shepressed her little hands to her eyes.

  "Father, Mother, God," she murmured in gasps. "Thou art all power. Weare thy children. Error has no power over us. Help us to waken from thislie."

  Running up to the housekeeper, she clasped her arms about her convulsedform. "Dear Mrs. Forbes," she said, her soft voice trembling at firstbut growing firm, "I know this claim, but it can be healed. It seemsvery terrible, but it's nothing. We know it, we must know it."

  The woman lifted her head and looked down with swollen eyes upon thechild. She saw her go unhesitatingly across to Zeke and kneel besidehim.

  "Don't be discouraged, Zeke," she said lovingly. "I know how it seems,but my father had it and he was healed. You will be healed."

  The coachman lifted his rumpled head and stared at her with bloodshoteyes.

  "Great fuss 'bout nothing," he said sullenly. "Mother always fussing."

  Something in his look made the child shudder. Resisting the suddenrepugnance to one who had always shown her kindness, she impulsivelytook his big hand in both her little ones. "Zeke, what is error sayingto you?" she demanded. "You can't look at me without love. I love youbecause God does. He is lifting us out of this error belief."

  The young fellow returned the clasp of the soft hands and winked hiseyes like one who is waking. "Mother makes great fuss," he grumbled."Scott was here. We had two or three little friendly drinks. Ma had tocome in and blubber."

  "What friendly drinks? What do you mean?" demanded Jewel, looking allabout her. Her eyes fell upon a large black bottle. She dropped thecoachman's hand and picked it up. She smelled of it, her eyes dilated,and she began to tremble again; and throwing the whiskey from her, sheburied her face for a moment against Zeke's shirt sleeve.

  "Is it in a bottle!" she exclaimed at last, in a hushed voice, drawingback and regarding the coachman with such a white and horrifiedcountenance that it frightened the clouds from his brain. "Is thatterrible claim in a bottle, and do people drink it out?" she askedslowly, and in an awestruck tone.

  "It's no harm," began Zeke.

  "No harm when your mother is crying, when your face is full of error,and your eyes were hating? No harm when my mother cried, and all ourgladness was gone? Would you go and drink a claim like that out of abottle--of your own accord?"

  Zeke wriggled under the blue eyes and the unnatural rigidity of thechild's face.

  "No, Jewel, he wouldn't," groaned Mrs. Forbes suddenly. "Zeke's a goodboy, but he's inherited that. His father died of it. It's a disease,child. I thought my boy would escape, but he hasn't! It's the end!"cried the wretched woman. "What will Mr. Evringham say! To think how Iblamed Fanshaw! Zeke'll lose his place and go downhill, and I shall dieof shame and despair." Her sobs again shook her from head to foot.

  Jewel continued to look at Zeke. A new, eager expression stole over herface. "_Is_ it the end?" she asked. "Don't you believe in God?"

  "I suppose so," answered the coachman sullenly. "I know I'm a man, too.I can control myself."

  "No. Nobody can. Even Jesus said, 'Of myself I can do nothing.' Only Godcan help you. If you can drink that nasty smelling stuff, and get allred and rumply and sorry, then you need God the worst of anybody inBel-Air. You look better now. It's just like a dream, the way you liftedup your face to me when I came in, and it _was_ a dream. I'll help you,Zeke. I'll show you how to find help." The child suddenly leaned towardthe young fellow, and then retreated. "I can't stand your breath!" sheexclaimed, "and I like to get close to the people I love."

  This seemed to touch Zeke. He blushed hotly. "It's a darned shame, kid,"he returned sheepishly.

  "Mrs. Forbes, come here, please," said Jewel. The housekeeper had ceasedcrying, and was watching the pair. She saw that her boy's senses wereclearer. She approached obediently, and when the child took her hand herown closed tightly upon the little fingers.

  "Zeke, you're a big strong man and everybody likes you," said Jewelearnestly. "Isn't it better to stay that way than to drink out of abottle, no matter _how_ much you like it?"

  "I don't like it so awfully," returned Zeke protestingly. "I like to besociable with the boys, that's all."

  "What a way to be sociable!" gasped the child. "Well, wouldn't yourather be nice, so people will like to get close to you?"

  "Depends on the folks," returned the boy with a touch of his usualmanner. "You're all right, little kid." He put out his hand, but quicklywithdrew it.

  Jewel seized it. "Now give your other one to your mother. There now,we're all together. If your mother thinks you have a disease, Zeke, thenshe must know you haven't. If you want me to, I'll come out here everyday at a quiet time and give you a treatment, and we'll talk all aboutChristian Science, and we'll know that there's nothing that can make ussick or unhappy--or unkind! Think of your unkindness to your mother--andto me if you go on, for I love you, Zeke. Now _may_ I help you?"

  The soft frank voice, the earnest little face, moved Zeke to cast aglance at his mother's swollen eyes. They were bent upon Jewel.

  "Do you say your father was cured that way, child?" asked Mrs. Forbes.

  "Yes. Oh yes! and he's so happy!"

  "Zeke, let's all be thankful if there's _anything_," said the womantremulously, turning to him appealingly.

  "I'd just as soon have a visit from you every day, little kid," said theyoung fellow. "You're a corker."

  "But you must want more than me," returned the child. "God and healingand purity and goodness! If you're in earnest, what are you going to dowith that?" She touched the black bottle with the toe of her shoe.

  Zeke looked at the whiskey, then back into her eyes. They were full oflove and faith for him.

  He stooped and picked up the bottle, then striding to a window, he flungit out toward the forest trees with all the force of his strong arm.

  "Damn the stuff!" he said.

  Mrs. Forbes felt herself tremble from head to foot. She bit her lip.

  Her son turned back. "Getting near train time," he added, not looking athis companions. "Guess I'll go upstairs."

  When he had disappeared his mother stooped slowly and kissed Jewel."Forgive me," she said tremulously.

  "What for?" asked the child.

  "Everything."

  The housekeeper still stood in the harness room after Jewel had goneaway. She bowed her head on her folded hands. "Our Father wh
o art inheaven, forgive me," she prayed. "Forgive me for being a fool. Forgiveme for not recognizing Thine angel whom Thou hast sent. Amen."