“This is the night we’re going to church, you know.”

“The dev—­Ah, to be sure.  So we are.  Well—­a—­what did you say?  Trolley car?  Why?”

“Well, we could all go then, you know,” returned Jewel.  “Cousin Eloise wants to go, but,” the child’s honesty compelled her, “she wouldn’t have to go with us because it is Mr. Bonnell’s last night in Bel-Air, and I heard him ask if he might come for her; but I do so want Zeke to go, grandpa!”

“Well, for the love of”—­began the broker slowly.

“Yes, Zeke is getting to understand a good deal about Christian Science.  He has some claims of error that his mother knows about, and they make her sorry, and I’ve been helping him and reading to him out of my books, and I do want him to go to the testimonial meeting so much.”

The child looked wistfully up into the dark eyes that rested upon her.  Mr. Evringham had remarked his housekeeper’s change of spirit toward the little girl, had wondered at the increasing and even reckless indulgence of Anna Belle, who from being an exile in the stair closet had now arrived at a degree of consideration and pampering which threatened to turn her head.

“Jewel,” he said impressively, “I wish you to understand one thing distinctly.  You are not now or at any future time to try to make a Christian Scientist of Essex Maid.”

From wondering sobriety Jewel’s lips broke into a gleeful smile.  “I don’t have to,” she cried triumphantly.  “She is one!  Anyway, she has demonstrated everything a horse ought to!”

Mr. Evringham flung his hands over his head despairingly.  “Great heavens!” he exclaimed tragically, rushing out to the brougham, Jewel at his heels in peals of laughter.

But they went to church in the trolley car.  Eloise reached the same place with Mr. Bonnell, but whether she walked or drove or rode nobody ever knew, and it didn’t matter much, for a full moon illumined the night.

Early in the evening a young man entered the hall quietly and took a back seat.  It was Zeke.

Mr. Reeves saw Jewel and her grandfather come in, and softly he smote his knee.  “She’s done it!” he ejaculated mentally.  He noted the broker’s haughty carriage, the half challenging glances he threw to right and left as he proceeded up the aisle to the position of Jewel’s choice.

Mr. Reeves composed his countenance with some difficulty, and catching the wandering eye, gave his friend a grave bow.

Testimonial meetings differ in point of continued interest.  This proved to be a good one.  The most interesting narrative of the evening was Nat Bonnell’s.  His self possession, fine presence, and good voice made more effective the marvelous story of his mother’s resurrection to strength.  He told it with dignity and directness, and Mr. Evringham was impressed.

“What’s my rheumatism to that, eh, Jewel?” he whispered, as Nat sat down.

“Just nothing, grandpa,” replied the child.