HOME-COMING
Again Jewel and her grandfather stood on the wharf where the great boats,
ploughing their way through the mighty seas, come finally, each into its
own place, as meekly as the horse seeks his stable.
The last time they stood here they were strangers watching the departure of
those whom now they waited, hand in hand, to greet.
"Jewel, you made me eat too much dinner," remarked Mr. Evringham. "I feel
as if my jacket was buttoned, in spite of the long drive we've taken since.
I went to my tailor this morning, and what do you think he told me?"
"What? That you needed some new clothes?"
"Oh, he always tells me that. He told me that I was growing fat! There,
young lady, what do you think of that?"
"I think you are, too, grandpa," returned the child, viewing him
critically.
"Well, you take it coolly. Supposing I should lose my waist, and all your
fault!"
Jewel drew in her chin and smiled at him.
"Supposing I go waddling about! Eh?"
She laughed. "But how would it be my fault?" she asked.
"Didn't you ever hear the saying 'laugh and grow fat'? How many times have
you made me laugh since we left the office?"
Jewel began to tug on his hand as she jumped up and down. "Oh, grandpa, do
you think our pictures will be good?"
"I think yours will."
"Not yours?" the hopping ceased.
"Oh, yes, excellent, probably. I haven't had one taken in so many years,
how can I tell? but here's one day that they can't get away from us, Jewel.
This eighth of June has been a good day, hasn't it--and mind, you're not to
tell about the pictures until we see how they come out."
"Yes, haven't we had _fun_? The be-_eau_tiful hotel, and the drive in the
park, and the ride in the boats and"--
"Speaking of boats, there it is now. They're coming," remarked Mr.
Evringham.
"Who?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Henry Thayer Evringham," returned the broker dryly. "Steady,
Jewel, steady now. It will be quite a while before you see them."
The late twilight had faded and the June night begun, the wharf was dimly
lighted and there was the usual crowd of customs officers, porters, and men
and women waiting to see friends. All moved and changed like figures in a
kaleidoscope before Jewel's unwinking gaze; but the long minutes dragged by
until at last her father and mother appeared among the passengers who came
in procession down the steep incline from the boat.
Mr. Evringham drew back a step as father, mother, and child clung to each
other, kissing and murmuring with soft exclamations. Harry extricated
himself first and shook hands with his father.
"Awfully good of you to get us the courtesy of the port," he said heartily.
"Don't mention it," returned the broker, and Julia released Jewel and
turned upon Mr. Evringham her grateful face.
"But so many things are good of you," she said feelingly, as she held out
her hand. "It will take us a long time to give thanks."
"Not at all, I assure you," responded the broker coldly, but his heart was
hot within him. "If they have the presumption to thank me for taking care
of Jewel!" he was thinking as he dropped his daughter-in-law's hand.
"What a human iceberg!" she thought. "How has Jewel been able to take it so
cheerfully? Ah, the blessed, loving heart of a child!"
Meanwhile Mr. Evringham turned to his son and continued: "The courtesy of
the port does shorten things up a bit, and I have a man from the customs
waiting."
Harry followed him to see about the luggage, and Mrs. Evringham and Jewel
sat down on a pile of boxes to wait. The mother's arm was around the little
girl, and Jewel had one of the gloved hands in both her own.
"Oh," she exclaimed, suddenly starting up, "Mrs. Forbes thought I'd better
wear my sailor suit instead of this, and she told me not to sit down on
anything dirty." She carefully turned up the skirt of her little frock and
seated herself again on a very brief petticoat.
Mrs. Evringham smiled. "Mrs. Forbes is careful of you, isn't she?" she
asked. Her heart was in a tumult of happiness and also of curiosity as to
her child's experiences in the last two months. Jewel's letters had
conveyed that she was content, and joy in her pony had been freely
expressed. The mother's mental picture of the stiff, cold individual to
whose doubtful mercies she had confided her child at such short notice had
been softened by the references to him in Jewel's letters; and it was with
a shock of disappointment that she found herself repulsed now by the same
unyielding personality, the same cold-eyed, unsmiling, fastidiously dressed
figure, whose image had lingered in her memory. A dozen eager questions
rose to her lips, but she repressed them.
"Jewel must have had a glimpse of the real man," she thought. "I must not
cloud her perception." It did not occur to her, however, that the child
could even now feel less than awe of the stern guardian with whom she had
succeeded in living at peace, and who had, from time to time, bestowed upon
her gifts. One of these Mrs. Evringham noticed now.
"Oh, that's your pretty watch!" she said.
"Yes," returned the child, "this is Little Faithful. Isn't he a darling?"
The mother smiled as she lifted the silver cherub. "You've named him?" she
returned. "Why, it is a beauty, Jewel. How kind of your grandfather!"
"Yes, indeed. It was so I wouldn't stay in the ravine too long."
"How is Anna Belle?"
"Dear Anna Belle!" exclaimed the little girl wistfully. "What a good time
she would have had if I could have brought her! But you see I needed both
my hands to help carry bags; and she understood about it and sent her love.
She'll be sitting up waiting for you."
Mrs. Evringham cast a look toward Harry and his father. "I'm not sure"--she
began, "I hardly think we shall go to Bel-Air to-night. How would you like
to stay in at the hotel with us, and then we could go out to the house
to-morrow and pack your trunk?"
Jewel looked very sober at this. "Why, it would be pretty hard to wait,
mother," she replied. "Hotels are splendid. Grandpa and I had dinner at
one. It's named the Waldorf and it has woods in it just like outdoors; but
I thought you'd be in a hurry to see Star and the Ravine of Happiness and
Zeke."
"Well, we'll wait," returned Mrs. Evringham vaguely. She was more than
doubtful of an invitation to Bel-Air Park even for one night; but Harry
must arrange it. "We'll see what father says," she added. "What a pretty
locket, my girlie!" As she spoke she lifted a gold heart that hung on a
slender gold chain around Jewel's neck.
"Yes. Cousin Eloise gave me that when she went away. She has had it ever
since she was as little as I am, and she said she left her heart with me.
I'm so sorry you won't see cousin Eloise."
"So she and her mother have gone away. Were they sorry to go? Did Mr.
Evringham--perhaps--think"--the speaker paused. She remembered Jewel's
letter about the situation.
"No, they weren't sorry. They've gone to the seashore; but cousin Eloise
and I love each other very much, and her room is so empty now that I've had
to keep remembering that you were coming and everything was happy. I guess
cousin Eloise is the prettiest girl in the whole world; and since she
stopped being sorry we've had the most _fun_."
"I wish I could see her!" returned Mrs. Evringham heartily. She longed to
thank Eloise for supplying the sunshine of love to her child while the
grandfather was providing for her material wants. She looked at Jewel now,
a picture of health and contentment, her bits of small finery in watch and
locket standing as symbols of the care and affection she had received.
"Divine Love has been so kind to us, dearie," she said softly, as she
pressed the child closer to her. "He has brought father and mother back
across the ocean and has given you such loving friends while we were gone."
In a future day Mrs. Evringham was to learn something of the inner history
of the progress of this little pilgrim during her first days at Bel-Air;
but the shadows had so entirely faded from Jewel's consciousness that she
could not have told it herself--not even such portions of it as she had
once realized.
"Yes, indeed, I love Bel-Air and all the people. Even aunt Madge kissed me
when she went away and said 'Good-by, you queer little thing!'"
"What did she mean?" asked Mrs. Evringham.
"I don't know. I didn't tell grandpa, because I thought he might not like
people calling me queer, but I asked Zeke."
"He's Mr. Evringham's coachman, isn't he?"
"Yes, and he's the nicest man, but he only told me that aunt Madge had
wheels. I asked him what kind of wheels, and he said he guessed they were
rubber-tired, because she was always rubbering and she made people tired.
You know Zeke is such a joker, so I haven't found out yet what aunt Madge
meant, and it isn't any matter because"--Jewel reached up and hugged her
mother, "you've come home."
Here the two men approached. "No more time for spooning," said Harry
cheerfully. "We're going now, little girls."
After all, there was nothing for Jewel to carry. Her father and grandfather
had the dress-suit case and bags.
Mrs. Evringham looked inquiringly at her husband, but he was gayly talking
with Jewel as the four walked out to the street.
Mr. Evringham led the way to a carriage that was standing there. "This is
ours," he said, opening the door.
Harry put the bags up beside the driver while his wife entered the vehicle,
still in doubt as to their destination. Jewel jumped in beside her.
"You'd better move over, dear," said her mother quietly. "Let Mr. Evringham
ride forward."
She was not surprised that Jewel was ignorant of carriage etiquette. It was
seldom that either of them had seen the inside of one.
The broker heard the suggestion. "_Place aux dames_," he said, briefly, and
moved the child back with one hand. Then he entered, Harry jumped in beside
him, slammed the door, and they rolled away.
"If Anna Belle was here the whole family would be together," said Jewel
joyously. "I don't care which one I sit by. I love everybody in this
carriage!"
"You do, eh, rascal?" returned her father, putting his hand over in her
silken lap and giving her a little shake. "Where is the great and good Anna
Belle?"
"Waiting for us. Just think of it, all this time! Grandpa, are we going
home with you?"
"What do you mean?" inquired the broker, and the tone of the curt question
chilled the spine of his daughter-in-law. "Were you thinking of spending
the night in the ferry-house, perhaps?"
"Why, no, only mother said"--
Mrs. Evringham pressed the child's arm. "That was nothing, Jewel; I simply
didn't know what the plan was," she put in hastily.
"Oh, of course," went on the little girl. "Mother didn't know aunt Madge
and cousin Eloise were gone, and she didn't believe there'd be room. She
doesn't know how big the house is, does she, grandpa?" An irresistible yawn
seized the child, and in the middle of it her father leaned forward and
chucked her under the chin.
Her jaws came together with a snap. "There! you spoiled that nice one!" she
exclaimed, jumping up and laughing as she flung herself upon her big
playmate, and a small scuffle ensued in which the wide leghorn hat brim
sawed against Mr. Evringham's shoulder and neck in a manner that caused
Mrs. Evringham's heart to leap toward her throat. How _could_ Harry be so
thoughtless! A street lamp showed the grim lines of the broker's averted
face as he gazed stonily out to the street.
"Come here, Jewel; sit still," said the mother, striving to pull the
little girl back into her seat.
Harry was laughing and holding his agile assailant off as best he might,
and at his wife's voice aided her efforts with a gentle push. Jewel sank
back on the cushion.
"Oh, what bores he thinks us. I know he does!" reflected Julia, capturing
her child in one arm and holding her close. To her surprise and even
dismay, Jewel spoke cheerfully after another yawn:--
"Grandpa, how far is it to the ferry? How long, I mean?"
"About fifteen minutes."
"Well, that's a good while. My eyes do feel as if they had sticks in them.
Don't you wish we could cross in a swan boat, grandpa?"
"Humph!" he responded. Mrs. Evringham gave the child a little squeeze
intended to be repressive. Jewel wriggled around a minute trying to get a
comfortable position.
"Tell father and mother about Central Park and the swan boats, grandpa,"
she continued.
"You tell them to-morrow, when you're not so sleepy," he replied.
Jewel took off her large hat, and nestling her head on her mother's
shoulder, put an arm around her. "Mother, mother!" she sighed happily, "are
you really home?"
"Really, really," replied Mrs. Evringham, with a responsive squeeze.
Mr. Evringham sat erect in silence, still gazing out the window with a
forbidding expression.
There were buttons on her mother's gown that rubbed Jewel's cheek. She
tried to avoid them for a minute and then sat up. "Father, will you change
places with me?" she asked sleepily. "I want to sit by grandpa."
Mrs. Evringham's eyes widened, and in spite of her earnest "Dearie!" the
transfer was made and Jewel crept under Mr. Evringham's arm, which closed
naturally around her. She leaned against him and shut her eyes.
"You mustn't go to sleep," he said.
"I guess I shall," returned the child softly.
"No, no. You mustn't. Think of the lights crossing the ferry. You'll lose a
lot if you're asleep. They're fine to see. We can't carry you and the
luggage, too. Brace up, now--Come, come! I shouldn't think you were any
older than Anna Belle."
Jewel laughed sleepily, and the broker held her hand in his while he pushed
her upright. Mr. and Mrs. Evringham looked on, the latter marveling at the
child's nonchalance.
Now, for the first time, the host became talkative.
"How many days have you to give us, Harry?" he asked.
"A couple, perhaps," replied the young man.
"Two days, father!" exclaimed Jewel, in dismay, wide awake in an instant.
"Oh, that's a stingy visit," remarked Mr. Evringham.
"Not half long enough," added Jewel. "There's so much for you to see."
"Oh, we can see a lot in two days," returned Harry. "Think of the little
girls in Chicago, Jewel. They won't forgive me if I don't bring you home
pretty soon." He leaned forward and took his child's free hand. "How do
you suppose father has got along without his little girl all these weeks,
eh, baby?"
"It _is_ a long time since you went away," she returned, "but I was right
in your room every night, and daytimes I played in your ravine. Bel-Air
Park is the beautifulest place in the whole world. Two days isn't any time
to stay there, father."
"H'm, I'm glad you've been so happy." Sincere feeling vibrated in the
speaker's voice. "We don't know how to thank your grandpa, do we?"
A street lamp showed Jewel, as she turned and smiled up into the impassive
face Mr. Evringham turned upon her.
"You can safely leave that to her," said the broker briefly, but he did not
remove his eyes from the upturned ones.
"It is beyond me," thought Mrs. Evringham; "but love is a miracle-worker."
The glowing lights of the ferry passed, Jewel did go to sleep in the train.
Her father, unaware that he was trespassing, took her in his arms, and,
tired out with all the excitement of the day and the lateness of the hour,
the child instantly became unconscious; but by the time they reached home,
the bustle of arrival and her interest in showing her parents about, aided
her in waking to the situation.
Mrs. Forbes stood ready to welcome the party. Ten years had passed since
Harry Evringham had stood in the home of his boyhood, and the housekeeper
thought she perceived that he was moved by a contrite memory; but he spoke
with bluff heartiness as he shook hands with her; and Mrs. Forbes looked
with eager curiosity into the sweet face of Mrs. Evringham, as the latter
greeted her and said something grateful concerning the housekeeper's
kindness to Jewel.
"It's very little you have to thank me for, ma'am," replied Mrs. Forbes,
charmed at once by the soft gaze of the dark eyes.
The little cavalcade moved upstairs to the handsome rooms so lately
vacated. They were brilliant with light and fragrant with roses.
"How beautiful!" exclaimed Mrs. Evringham, while Jewel hopped up and down,
as wide awake as any little girl in town, delighted with the gala
appearance of everything.
Mr. Evringham looked critically into the face of his daughter-in-law. Here
was the woman to whom he owed Jewel, and all that she was and all that she
had taught him. Her face was what he might have expected. It looked very
charming now as the pretty eyes met his. She was well-dressed, too, and Mr.
Evringham liked that.
"I hope you will be very much at home here, Julia," he said; and though he
did not smile, it was certain that, whether from a sense of duty or not, he
had taken pains to make their welcome a pleasant one.
Jewel had, evidently, no slightest fear of his cold reserve. With the
child's hand in hers, Julia took courage to reply warmly: "Thank you,
father, it is a joy to be here."
She had called him "father," this elegant stranger, and her heart beat a
little faster, but her husband's arm went around her.
"America's all right, eh, Julia?"
"Come in cousin Eloise's room," cried Jewel. "That's all lighted, too. Are
they going to have them both, grandpa?"
She danced ahead, through a spacious white-tiled bathroom and into the
adjoining apartment. There an unexpected sight met the child's eyes. In the
rosy depths of a large chintz chair sat Anna Belle, loyally keeping her
eyes open in spite of the hour.
Jewel rushed toward her. There were plenty of flowers scattered about in
this room, also, and the child suddenly caught sight of her own toilet
articles on the dresser.
"My things are down here in cousin Eloise's room, grandpa!" she cried, so
surprised that she delayed picking up her doll.
"Why, why!" said Mr. Evringham, throwing open the door of the large closet
and then opening a bureau drawer. Within both receptacles were Jewel's
belongings, neatly arranged. "This is odd!" he added.
"Grandpa, grandpa!" cried the child, rushing at him and clasping her arms
around his waist. "You're going to let me sleep down here by father and
mother!"
Mr. Evringham regarded her unsmilingly. Jewel's parents both looked on,
more than half expecting a snub to meet the energetic onslaught. "You won't
object, will you?" he asked.
Jewel pulled him down and whispered something in his ear. The curious
on-lookers saw the sweeping mustache curve in a smile as he straightened up
again. As a matter of fact they were both curious to know what she had said
to him.
"You're whispering in company, Jewel," remarked her father.
"Oh, please excuse me!" said the child. "I forgot to remember. Here's Anna
Belle, father."
"My, my, my!" ejaculated Harry Evringham, coming forward. "How that child
has grown!"