Seeing her grandfather standing near she smiled drowsily.  “I fell asleep, didn’t I?” she said, and rubbed her eyes; then noting the sheet of paper in Mr. Evringham’s hand, memory returned to her.  She sat up with a start.

“Oh, grandpa, you haven’t read my letter!” she exclaimed, with an accent of dismay which brought the blood to the broker’s face.  He felt a culprit before the shocked blue eyes.

“To—­to see if it was spelled right, you know,” he said.  “You had me do it before.”

“Yes, I wanted you to then,” returned the child; “but it is error to read people’s letters unless they ask you to, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s confoundedly bad form, Jewel.  I beg your pardon.  You didn’t mean me to see those sweet things you said about me, eh?”

“That was no matter.  It was cousin Eloise’s secret.  She trusted me.”  The child’s eyes filled with tears.

The broker cleared his throat.  “No harm done, I’m sure.  No harm done,” he returned brusquely, to cover his discomfiture.  For the first time he made an advance toward his granddaughter.  “Come here a minute, Jewel.”  He took her hand and led her to his chair, and seating himself, lifted her into his lap.  The corners of her lips were drawing down involuntarily, and as her head fell against his broad shoulder, he took out his handkerchief and dried her eyes.  “I hope you’ll forgive me,” he said.  “After this I will always wait for your permission.  Now what is this about cousin Eloise?”

Jewel shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

“You can’t tell me?”

“No.”

“Then don’t you think perhaps it was a good thing I read your letter after all, if it is something I ought to know?”

The speaker was not so interested to discover the secrets of his beautiful guest as to set himself right with this admirer.  He did not relish falling from his pedestal.

“Do you think perhaps Divine Love made you do it, grandpa?” asked the child tremulously, with returning hope.

Mr. Evringham was quite certain that it had been curiosity, but he was willing to accept a higher sounding hypothesis.

“Mother explained to me about God making ’the wrath of man to praise Him,’” added Jewel after the moment’s pause.  “If it makes you kind to cousin Eloise, perhaps we can be glad you read it.”

“What is the matter with Eloise?” asked Mr. Evringham.

Jewel sat up, fixed him with her eyes, pressed her lips together, and shook her head.

“You won’t tell me?”

The head went on firmly shaking.

“Then let me read the letter again.”

“No, grandpa,” decidedly.

He kept one arm around her as he smoothed his mustache.  “Is there something you think I ought to do?”

A light seemed to illumine the eyes that the little girl kept fixed on his, but she did not speak.

“Do you think it discourteous for me to spend my evenings away from those two?  They don’t want me, child.”