“It’s too late, dear.  He’ll be here by half-past ten.  I must have her ready.”

Mrs. Evringham looked after her daughter’s retreating figure, and then her lips came together firmly.  She untied the ribbons of the loose gown of lace and silk, in which she had keyed herself up by degrees to face the requirements of luncheon and the afternoon’s diversions, and donned a conventional dress, in which she composed herself by the window to watch for the doctor’s buggy.  There was a vista in the park avenue which afforded a fair look at equipages three minutes before they could reach Mr. Evringham’s gateway.

From the moment the doctor’s office hour was over this stanch supporter set herself to watch that gap.  As soon as she saw Hector’s dappled coat and easy stride she sprang up and went downstairs, and when the shining buggy paused at the steps and Dr. Ballard jumped out, she appeared on the piazza to greet him.

“What an inspiring morning!” she said, as he removed his hat.  “That insane girl!” she thought.  “If he had chanced to be awkward and plain, he would have been just as important to us.  His good looks are thrown in, and yet she won’t behave herself.”

“Glorious indeed!” he replied heartily.  “Where’s my young lady?”

Mrs. Evringham had plenty of worldly experience, and not even her enemies called her stupid, but at this moment there was but one young lady in the world to her, as she believed there was to him.

“She is upstairs braiding Jewel’s hair,” she replied before she realized her own insanity.  Then she hastened on, coloring under the odd look in his eyes, “But you mean Jewel, of course.  She will be down at once, I’m sure.  It’s so kind of you to take her.”

“Not at all.  She’s an original worth cultivating.”

Mrs. Evringham shrugged her shoulders.  “I suppose she must be, since you all say so.  Eloise gives up a surprising amount of time to her, but I can’t judge much from that, because Eloise is so unselfish.  For my part, the child’s ideas are so strange, and my little girl is still so young and impressionable, I object to having them much together.  It may seem very absurd, when Jewel is so young.”

“No; I saw last evening how interested Miss Eloise already is.”

“Oh,” hastily, “she pretends to be, and I assure you I object.  Eloise has a good mind, and I hope you will offer a little antidote now and then to the stuff she has begun to read.  A word to the wise, Dr. Ballard.  I need say no more.”

It was true.  Mrs. Evringham had no need to say more.  Her ideas, and especially those which related to himself, had always been inscribed in large characters and words of one syllable for her present companion, who was a young man of considerable perception and discrimination.

He had not time to reply before Jewel, radiant of face, appeared in the doorway, where she hesitated, her doll in her arms.