Here the trio on the lawn came running up the steps, father and child laughing and panting as hard as Topaz, whose tongue and teeth were all in evidence in the gayety of his grin.

Harry threw himself into the hammock, and Jewel sat on the floor beside Topaz, who gazed at her from his wistful eyes, his head on the side.  Harry laughed.  “Jewel, he looks at you as if he were saying, ’Really, now, you are a person after my own heart.’”

“She is after his heart, too,” said Jewel’s mother, “and I’m sure she’ll win it.”

“He likes me already,” declared the child.  “Don’t you, Topaz?” she asked tenderly, laying her flaxen head with its big bows against the gold of his coat.  “Oh, there ought to be one more story in my book,” she added, “one for us to read right now and finish up my birthday.”

“Why not have ‘The Golden Dog’ again?” suggested Mr. Evringham, from the comfortable big wicker chair in which he sat watching Jewel and Topaz.  “That would be appropriate.”

“Oh, yes,” cried the little girl, looking at her mother.

“Oh, no,” returned Julia, smiling.  “There ought to be a special fresh story for a birthday.  We might make one now.”

“A new one, mother?” asked Jewel, much pleased.  “Could you?”

“No indeed, not alone; but if everybody helped”—­

“Oh, yes,” cried Jewel, with more enthusiasm than before.  “Grandpa begin because he’s the oldest, then father, then mother, then—­well, me, if I can think of anything.”

“It’s very wrong of you, Jewel,” said the broker, “to remember that I’m the oldest, under these circumstances.  What did you tell me this morning?”

The child’s head fell to the side and she leaned toward him.  “I don’t know how old you are,” she replied gently; “and it doesn’t make any difference.”

“Then let’s begin with the youngest,” he suggested.

“No,” said his daughter, “I think Jewel’s plan is the best.  You begin, father.”  She did not in the least expect that he would consent, but Jewel, her hands resting on Topaz’s collar, was looking at the broker lovingly.

“Grandpa can do just anything,” she declared.

Mr. Evringham regarded her musingly.  “I know only one story,” he said at last, “and not very far into that one.”

“You don’t have to know far,” returned Julia encouragingly, “for Harry has to begin whenever you say so.”

“Indeed!” put in her husband.  “I pity you if you have to listen to me.”

“It’s my birthday, you know, grandpa,” urged Jewel.

“So I’ve understood,” returned the broker.  “Well, just wait a minute till I hitch up Pegasus.”

“Great Scott!” exclaimed his son.  “You aren’t in earnest, Julia?  You don’t expect me to do anything like that right off the bat!”

“Certainly, I do,” she replied, laughing.

“Oh, see here, I have an engagement.  We’re one, you know, and when it comes to authorship, you’re the one.”