MRS. EVRINGHAM'S GIFTS
When Mrs. Evringham opened her eyes the following morning, it was with a
confused sense that some great change had taken place; and quickly came the
realization that it was a happy change. As the transforming facts flowed in
more clearly upon her consciousness, she covered her eyes quickly with her
hand.
"'Green pastures are before me!'" she thought, and her heart grew warm with
gratitude.
Her husband was asleep, and she arose and went softly to Jewel's chamber,
and carefully opened the door. To her amazement the bed was empty. Its
coverings were stripped down and the sweet morning breeze was flooding the
spacious room.
She returned to her own, wondering how late it might be. Her husband
stirred and opened his eyes, but before she could speak a ripple of distant
laughter sounded on the air.
She ran to the window and raised the shade. "Oh, come, Harry, quick!" she
exclaimed, and, half asleep, he obeyed. There, riding down the driveway,
they saw Mr. Evringham and Jewel starting off for their morning canter.
"How dear they look, how dear!" exclaimed Julia.
"Father is stunning, for a fact," remarked Harry, watching alertly. On
yesterday's excursion he had ridden Essex Maid, after all; and he smiled
with interest now, in the couple who were evidently talking to one another
with the utmost zest as they finally disappeared at a canter among the
trees.
"It is ideal, it's perfectly ideal, Harry." Julia drew a long breath. "I
was so surprised this morning, to waken and find it reality, after all."
She looked with thoughtful eyes at her husband. "I wonder what my new work
will be!" she added.
"Not talking about that already, I hope!" he answered, laughing. "I've an
idea you will find occupation enough for one while, in learning to be idle.
Sit still now and look about you on the work accomplished."
"What work?"
"That I'm here and that you're here: that the action of Truth has brought
these wonders about."
After breakfast the farewells were said. "You're happy, aren't you,
father?" asked Jewel doubtfully, as she clung about his neck.
"Never so happy, Jewel," he answered.
She turned to her grandfather. "When is father coming back again?" she
asked.
"As soon as he can," was the reply.
"You don't want me until September, I believe," said the young man bluntly.
He still retained the consciousness, half amused, half hurt, that his
father considered him superfluous.
"Why, September is almost next winter," said Jewel appealingly.
Mr. Evringham looked his son full in the eyes and liked the direct way they
met him.
"The latchstring will be out from now on, Harry I want you to feel that it
is your latchstring as much as mine."
His son did not speak, but the way the two men suddenly clasped hands gave
Jewel a very comforted sensation.
"And you don't feel a bit sorry to be going alone to Chicago?" she pursued,
again centring her attention and embrace upon her father.
"I tell you I was never so happy in my life," he responded, kissing her and
setting her on her feet. "Are you going to allow me to drive to the station
in your place this morning?"
"I'd let you do anything, father," returned Jewel affectionately. It
touched her little heart to see him go alone away from such a happy family
circle, but her mother's good cheer was reassuring.
They had scarcely had a minute alone together since Mrs. Evringham's
arrival, and when the last wave had been sent toward the head leaning out
of the brougham window, mother and child went up the broad staircase
together, pausing before the tall clock whose chime had grown so familiar
to Jewel since that chilling day when Mrs. Forbes warned her not to touch
it.
"Everything in this house is so fine, Jewel," said the mother. "It must
have seemed very strange to you at first."
"It did. Anna Belle and I felt more at home out of doors, because you see
God owned the woods, and He didn't care if we broke something, and Mrs.
Forbes used to be so afraid; but it's all much different now," added the
child.
They went on up to the room where stood the small trunk which was all Mrs.
Evringham had taken abroad for her personal belongings.
To many children the moment of their mother's unpacking after a return from
a trip is fraught with pleasant and eager anticipation of gifts. In this
case it was different; for Jewel had no previous journey of her mother's to
remember, and her gifts had always been so small, with the shining
exception of Anna Belle, that she made no calculations now concerning the
steamer trunk, as she watched her mother take out its contents.
Each step Mrs. Evringham took on the rich carpet, each glance she cast at
the park through the clear sheets of plate glass in the windows, each
smooth-running drawer, each undreamed-of convenience in the closet with its
electric light for dark days, impressed her afresh with a sense of
wondering pleasure. The lady of her name who had so recently dwelt among
these luxuries had accepted them fretfully, as no more than her due; the
long glass which now reflected Julia's radiant dark eyes lately gave back a
countenance impressed with lines of care and discontent.
"Jewel, I feel like a queen here," said the happy woman softly. "I like
beautiful things very much, but I never had them before in my life. Come,
darling, we must read the lesson." She closed the lid of the trunk.
"Yes, but wait till I get Anna Belle." The child ran into her own room and
brought the doll. Then she jumped into her mother's lap, for there was room
for all three in the big chair by the window.
Some memory made the little girl lift her shoulders. "This was aunt Madge's
chair," she said. "She used to sit here in the prettiest lace wrapper--I
was never in this room before except two or three times,"--Jewel's awed
tone changed,--"but now my own mother lives here! and cousin Eloise would
love to know it and to know that I have her room. I mean to write her about
it."
"You must take me upstairs pretty soon and let me see the chamber that was
yours. Oh, there is so much to see, Jewel; shall we ever get to the end?"
Mrs. Evringham's tone was joyous, as she hugged the child impulsively, and
rested her cheek on the flaxen head. "Darling," she went on softly, "think
what Divine Love has done for mother, to bring her here! I've worked very
hard, my little girl, and though Love helped me all the time, and I was
happy, I've had so much care, and almost never a day when I had leisure to
stop and think about something else than my work. I expected to go right
back to it now, with father, and I didn't worry, because God was leading
me--but, dearie, when I woke up this morning"--she paused, and as Jewel
lifted her head, mother and child gazed into one another's eyes--"I
said--you know what I said?"
For answer the little girl smiled gladly and began to sing the familiar
hymn. Her mother joined an alto to the clear voice, in the manner that had
been theirs for years, and fervently, now, they sang the words:--
"Green pastures are before me,
Which yet I have not seen.
Bright skies will soon be o'er me,
Where darkest clouds have been.
My hope I cannot measure,
My path in life is free,
My Father has my treasure,
And He will walk with me!"
Jewel looked joyous.
"The green pastures were in Bel-Air Park, weren't they?" she said, "and you
hadn't seen them, had you?"
"No," returned Mrs. Evringham gently, "and just now there is not a cloud in
our bright sky."
"Father's gone away," returned Jewel doubtfully.
"Only to get ready to come back. It is very wonderful, Jewel."
"Yes, it is. I'm sure it makes God glad to see us so happy."
"I'm sure it does; and the best of it is that father knows that it is love
alone that brought this happiness, just as it brings all the real happiness
that ever comes in the world. He sees that it is only what knowledge we
have of God that made it possible for him to come back to what ought to be
his, his father's welcome home! Father sees that it is a demonstration of
love, and that is more important than all; for anything that gives us a
stronger grasp on the truth, and more understanding of its working, is of
the greatest value to us."
"Didn't grandpa love father before?" asked Jewel, in surprise.
"Yes, but father disappointed him and error crept in between them, so it
was only when father began to understand the truth and ask God to help him,
that the discord could disappear. Isn't it beautiful that it has, Jewel?"
"I don't think discord is much, mother," declared the little girl.
"Of course it isn't," returned her mother. "It isn't anything."
"When I first came, grandpa had so many things to make him sorry, and
everybody else here was sorry--and now nobody is. Even aunt Madge was happy
over the pretty clothes she had to go away with."
"And she'll be happy over other things, some day," returned Mrs. Evringham,
who had already gathered a tolerably clear idea of her sister-in-law.
"Eloise has learned how to help her."
"Oh, ye--es! _She_ isn't afraid of discord any more."
"Now we'll study the lesson, darling. Think of having all the time we want
for it!"
After they had finished, Mrs. Evringham leaned back in the big chair and
patted Jewel's knee. Opening the bag at her side she took out a small box
and gave it to the child, who opened it eagerly. A bright little garnet
ring reposed on the white velvet.
"Oh, oh, _oh_!" cried Jewel, delighted. She put on the ring, which just
fitted, and then hugged her mother before she looked at it again.
"Dear little Anna Belle, when you're a big girl"--she began, turning to the
doll, but Mrs. Evringham interrupted.
"Wait a minute, Jewel, here is Anna Belle's."
She took out another box and, ah, what a charming necklace appeared,
brilliant with gems which outshone completely the three little garnets.
Jewel jumped for joy when she had clasped it about the round neck.
"Oh, mother, mother!" she exclaimed, patting her mother's cheek, "you kept
thinking about us every day, didn't you! Kiss your grandma, dearie," which
the proud and happy Anna Belle did with a fervor that threatened to damage
Mrs. Evringham's front teeth.
"I brought you something else, Jewel," said the mother, with her arms
around the child. "I did think of you every day, and on the ship going
over, it was pretty hard, because I had never been away from my little girl
and I didn't know just what she was doing, and I didn't even know the
people she was with; so, partly to keep my thoughts from error, I began
to--to make something for you."
"Oh, what was it?" asked Jewel eagerly.
"I didn't finish it going over, and I had no time to do so until we were on
the steamer coming home again. Then I was lighter hearted and happier,
because I knew my little darling had found green pastures, but--I finished
it. I don't know how much you will care for it."
Jewel questioned the dark eyes and smiling lips eagerly.
"What is it, mother; a bag for my skates?"
"No."
"A--a handkerchief?"
"No."
"Oh, tell me, mother, I can't wait."
Mrs. Evringham put the little girl down from her lap and going to the trunk
took from it the only article it still contained. It was a long, flat book
with pasteboard covers tied at the back with little ribbons. As she again
took her seat in the big chair, Jewel leaned against its arm.
"It's a scrap-book full of pictures," she said, with interest.
For answer her mother turned the cover toward her so she could read the
words lettered distinctly upon it.
JEWEL'S STORY BOOK
Then Mrs. Evringham ran her finger along the edges of the volume and let
the type-written pages flutter before its owner's delighted eyes.
"You've made me some stories, mother!" cried Jewel. One of the great
pleasures and treats of her life had been those rare half hours when her
busy mother had time to tell her a story.
Her eyes danced with delight. "Oh, you're the _kindest_ mother!" she went
on, "and you'll have time to read them to me now! Anna Belle, won't it be
the most _fun_? Oh, mother, we'll go to the ravine to read, won't we?"
Mrs. Evringham's cheeks flushed and she laughed at the child's joy. "I hope
they won't disappoint you," she said.
"But you wrote them out of love. How can they?" returned the little girl
quickly.
"That's so, Jewel; that's so, dear."