Jewel | Page 8

job. It's my opinion that the governor's harder--"
"Ahem, ahem!" Mrs. Forbes cleared her throat with desperate loudness
and tugged at her son's shirt sleeve with an energy which caused him to
wheel.
Coming up the sunny driveway was a tall man with short, scrupulously

brushed iron-gray hair, and sweeping mustache. The lines under his
eyes were heavy, his glance was cold. His presence was dignified,
commanding, repellent.
The housekeeper and coachman both stood at attention, the latter
mechanically pulling down his rolled-up sleeves.
"So you're moving out here, Mrs. Forbes," was the remark with which
the newcomer announced himself.
"Yes, Mr. Evringham. The man has been here to put in the electric bell
you ordered. I shall be as quick to call as if I was still in the house, sir,
and I thank you--'Zekiel and I both do--for consenting to my making it
home-like for him. Perhaps you'd come up and see the rooms, sir?"
"Not just now. Some other time. I hope 'Zekiel is going to prove
himself worth all this trouble."
The new coachman's countenance seemed frozen into a stolidity which
did not alter.
"I'm sure he'll try," replied his mother, "and Fanshaw's livery fits him to
such a turn that it would have been flying in the face of Providence not
to try him. Did you give orders to be met at this train, sir?" Mrs. Forbes
looked anxiously toward the set face of her heir.
"No--I came out unexpectedly. I have received news that is rather
perplexing."
The housekeeper had not studied her employer's moods for years
without understanding when she could be of use.
"I will come to the house right off," was her prompt response. "It's a
pity you didn't know the bell was in, sir."
"No, stay where you are. I see Dr. Ballard is here. We might be
interrupted. You can go, 'Zekiel."
The young fellow needed no second invitation, but turned and mounted

the stairway that led to the chambers above.
Mr. Evringham took from his pocket a bunch of papers, and selecting a
letter handed it to Mrs. Forbes, motioning her to the battered chair,
which was still in evidence. He seated himself on the stool Zeke had
vacated, while his housekeeper opened and read the following letter:--
CHICAGO, April 28, 19--.
DEAR FATHER,--The old story of the Prodigal Son has always plenty
of originality for the Prodigal. I have returned, and thank Heaven
sincerely I do not need to ask you for anything. My blessed girl Julia
has supported herself and little Jewel these years while I've been
feeding on husks. I don't see now how I was willing to be so revoltingly
cruel and cowardly as to leave her in the lurch, but she has made
friends and they have stood by her, and now I've been back since
September, doing all in my power to make up what I can to her and
Jewel, as we call little Julia. They were treasures to return to such as I
deserved to have lost forever; but Julia treats me as if I'd been white to
her right all along. I've lately secured a position that I hope to keep. My
wife has been dressmaking, and this is something in the dry goods line
that I got through her. The firm want us to go to Europe to do some
buying. They will pay the expenses of both; but that leaves Jewel. I've
heard that Lawrence's wife and daughter are living with you. I
wondered if you'd let us bring Jewel as far as New York and drop her
with you for the six weeks that we shall be gone. If we had a little more
ahead we'd take the child with us. She is eight years old and wouldn't
be any trouble, but cash is scarce, and although we could board her here
with some friend, I'd like to have her become acquainted with her
grandfather, and I thought as Madge and Eloise were with you, they
would look after her if Mrs. Forbes is no longer there. This has all
come about very suddenly, and we sail next Wednesday on the Scythia,
so I'll be much obliged if you will wire me. I shall be glad to shake
your hand again.
Your repentant son,
HARRY.

Mrs. Forbes looked up from the letter to find her employer's eyes upon
her. Her lips were set in a tight line.
"Well?" he asked.
"I'd like to ask first, sir, what you think of it?"
"It strikes me as very cool. Harry knows my habits."
The housekeeper loosened the reins of her indignation.
"The idea of your having a child here to clatter up and down the stairs
at the very time you want to take a nap!" she burst forth. "You've had