“Not if you don’t like to, grandpa.”

“I love to,” he protested.  “I’ve been looking forward to it all the morning.  I thought ’never mind if I can’t go riding, I can tie Jewel’s hair ribbons.’”

The child laughed a little, even though her companion did not.  “Oh grandpa, you’re such a joker,” she said; “just like father.”

But he saw that she doubted his mood, and the toe of one of the overshoes was boring into the carpet as she stood where she had withdrawn from him.

“Let us see if you parted your hair better,” he said in a different and gentler tone, and instantly the flaxen head was bent before him, and Jewel felt in her pocket for the ribbons.  He had not the heart to say what he thought; namely, that her parting looked as though a saw had been substituted for a comb.

“Very well, very well,” he said kindly.

When the ribbons were at last tied, the two proceeded to the dining-room.  Here an open fire of logs furnished the cheerful light that was lacking outside.  The morning paper hung over the back of a chair, warming before the blaze.

Mrs. Forbes entered from the butler’s pantry and looked surprised.  “I didn’t expect you down for half an hour yet, sir.  Shall I hurry breakfast?”

“No; I’m going to take Jewel to the stable.”  Mr. Evringham stopped and took a few lumps of sugar from the bowl.

“Julia, where are your rubbers?” asked the housekeeper.

“On,” said the child, lifting her foot.

“I only hope they’ll stay there,” remarked her grandfather.  “I think, Mrs. Forbes, you must buy shoes as I’ve heard that Chinamen do,—­the largest they can get for the money.”

He disappeared with his happy little companion, and the housekeeper looked after them disapprovingly.

“They’re both going out bareheaded,” she mused.  “I’d like to bet—­I would bet anything that she asked him to take her.  He never even stopped to look at the paper.  He’s just putty in her hands, that’s what he is, putty; and she’s been here three days.”

Mr. Evringham’s apprehensions proved to have foundation.  Halfway to the barn Jewel stepped in a bit of sticky mud and left one rubber.  Her companion did not stop to let her get it, but picking her up under his well arm, strode on to the barn, where they appeared to the astonished Zeke.

Jewel was laughing in high glee.  She was used to being caught up in a strong arm and run with.

Mr. Evringham shook the drops from his head.  “Get Jewel’s rubber please, Zeke,” he said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder.

“I was Cinderella,” cried the child gayly.  “That’s my glass slipper out there in the mud.”

Zeke would have liked to joke with her, but that was an impossibility in the august presence.  He cast a curious glance at the little girl as he left the barn.  He had received his mother’s version of yesterday’s experience.  “Well, it looks to me as if there was something those Christian Science folks know that the rest of us don’t,” he soliloquized.  “I saw her with my own eyes, and felt her with my own hands.  Mother says children get up from anything twice as quick as grown folks, but I don’t know.”