“Yes.”

“Oh.  Do you know that seems very funny to me, Jewel?”

“It seems funny to me that you are afraid, when God made you, and the man, and all of us, and there’s nothing but goodness and love in the universe.  Fear is the belief of evil.  Do you want to believe evil?”

“No, I hate to,” returned Eloise promptly.

“Then you go away, cousin Eloise, and I will handle the case for you.”

“Oh, are you going golfing?” said Mrs. Evringham that afternoon to her daughter.  “Do put on your white duck, dear.”

“Yes, I intend to.  I’m going with grandfather.”

“You are?” in extremest surprise.  “Oh, wear your dark skirt, dear; it’s plenty good enough.  Do you mean to say he asked you, Eloise?”

“No, I asked him.”

Mrs. Evringham stood in silent amaze, her brain working alertly.  She even watched her daughter don the immaculate white golf suit, and made no further protest.

What was in the girl’s mind?  When finally from her window she saw the two enter the brougham, Mr. Evringham carrying his granddaughter’s clubs, she smiled a knowing smile and nodded her head.

“I do believe I’ve wronged Eloise,” she thought.  “How foolish it was to worry.  I’ve been wondering how in the world I was going to get father to give her a wedding, and how I was going to get her to accept it, and now look!  That child has thought of the same thing, and will manage it a hundred times better than I could.”

Jewel stood on the steps and waved her hand as the brougham rolled away.  Eloise had seized and squeezed her surreptitiously in the hall before they came out.

“I do feel braced up, Jewel.  Thank you,” she whispered hurriedly.

“Is the man over at the golf links?” asked the child, surprised to see that Eloise and her grandfather were going out together.

“He will be by the time I get there,” returned the girl.

As soon as the carriage door had closed and they had started, Eloise spoke.  “You must think it very strange that I asked this of you, grandfather.”

There was a hint of violets clinging to the fresh white garments that brushed Mr. Evringham’s knee.

“I would not question the gifts the gods provide;” he returned.

She seemed able to rise above the fear of his sarcasms.  “Not that you would be surprised at anything mother or I might ask of you,” she continued bravely, “but I have suffered, I’m sure, as much as you have during the last two months.”

“Indeed?  I regret to hear that.”

If there was a sting in this reply, Eloise refused to recognize it.

“In fact I have felt so much that it has made it impossible hitherto to say anything, but Jewel has given me courage.”

Mr. Evringham smoothed his mustache.  “She has plenty to spare,” he returned.

“She says,” went on Eloise, “that everything that isn’t love is hate; and hate, of course, in her category is unreal.  It is because I want the real things, because I long for real things, for truth, that I asked to have this talk, grandfather, and I wanted to be quite alone with you, so I thought of this way.”