“Ha!” ejaculated Mr. Evringham, after a lightning glance of suspicion at his daughter-in-law.  “I think I remember something about that.  But Golden Hair tried three beds, I believe.”

“Yes, she did, but you see there wasn’t any little bear’s chair on the piazza.”

“Very true.  Very true.”

“Golden Hair was a great beauty, I believe,” suggested Mrs. Evringham, looking at the child oddly.  “She had yellow hair like yours.”

Jewel put up a quick hand to the short tight braid which ended behind her ear.  “Oh no, long, lovely, floating hair.  Don’t you remember?”

“It’s a good while since I read it,” returned Mrs. Evringham, laughing low and glancing at Eloise.  Her father-in-law sent her a look of displeasure and turned back to Jewel.

“Dr. Ballard found you on the train, I suppose?”

“Yes, grandpa.  We had a nice time.  He is a very kind man.”  The child glanced across at her cousin again.  She wished cousin Eloise would lift her eyes and not look so sorry.  “I wonder,” she added aloud, “why Dr. Ballard called cousin Eloise a little girl.”

No one spoke, so Mrs. Evringham broke the momentary silence.  “Did he?” she asked.

“Yes, he said that my cousin Eloise was a very charming little girl.”

Jewel wondered why Eloise flushed and looked still sorrier, and why aunt Madge raised her napkin and turned her laugh into a cough.  Perhaps it teased young ladies to be called little girls.  Jewel regretted having mentioned it.

“I guess he was just April-fooling me,” she suggested comfortingly, and the insistence of her soft gaze was such that Eloise looked up and met a smile so irresistible, that in spite of herself, her expression relaxed.

The softened look was a relief to the child.  “I’ve heard about you, of course, cousin Eloise,” she said, “and I couldn’t forget, because your name is so nice and—­and slippery.  Eloise Evringham.  Eloise Evringham.  It sounds just like—­like—­oh, like sliding down the banisters.  Don’t you think so?”

Eloise smiled a little.  “I hadn’t thought of it,” she returned, then relapsed into quiet.

Mrs. Forbes’s countenance was stony.  “Children should be seen and not heard,” was her doctrine, and this dressmaker’s child had an assurance beyond belief.  She seemed to feel no awe whatever in her grandfather’s presence.

The housekeeper caught Jewel’s eye and gave her such a quenching look that thenceforward the little girl succumbed to the silence which the others seemed to prefer.

After dinner she would have a good visit with grandpa and talk about when father was a little boy.  Her hopes were dashed, for just as they were rising from the table, a man was announced, with whom Mr. Evringham closeted himself in the library.

In the drawing-room aunt Madge and cousin Eloise both set themselves at letter-writing, and entirely ignored Jewel.  The child looked listlessly at a book with pictures, which she found on the table, until half-past eight, when Mrs. Forbes came to say it was time for her to go to bed.