A HEROIC OFFER
Jewel told her grandfather the tale of The Talking Doll while they walked
their horses through a favorite wood-road, Mr. Evringham keeping his eyes
on the animated face of the story-teller. His own was entirely impassive,
but he threw in an exclamation now and then to prove his undivided
attention.
"_You_ know it's more blessed to give than to receive, don't you, grandpa?"
added Jewel affectionately, as she finished; "because you're giving things
to people all the time, and nobody but God can give you anything."
"I don't know about that," returned the broker. "Have you forgotten the
yellow chicken you gave me?"
"No," returned Jewel seriously; "but I've never seen anything since that I
thought you would care for."
Mr. Evringham nodded. "I think," he said confidentially, "that you have
given me something pretty nice in your mother. Do you know, I'm very glad
that she married into our family."
"Yes, indeed," replied Jewel, "so am I. Just supposing I had had some other
grandpa!"
The two shook their heads at one another gravely. There were some
situations that could not be contemplated.
"Why do you suppose I can't find any turtles in my brook?" asked the child,
after a short pause. "Mother says perhaps they like meadows better than
shady ravines."
"Perhaps they do; but," and the broker nodded knowingly, "there's another
reason."
"Why, grandpa, why?" asked Jewel eagerly.
"Oh, Nature is such a neat housekeeper!"
"Why, turtles must be lovely and clean."
"Yes, I know; and if Summer would just let the brook alone you might find a
baby turtle for Anna Belle."
"She'd love it. Her eyes nearly popped out when mother was telling about
it."
"Well, there it is, you see. Now I'd be ashamed to have you see that brook
in August, Jewel." Mr. Evringham slapped the pommel of his saddle to
emphasize the depth of his feelings.
"Why, what happens?"
"Dry--as--a--bone!"
"It _is_?"
"Yes, indeed. We shan't have been long at the seashore when Summer will
have drained off every drop of water in that brook."
"What for?"
"House-cleaning, of course. I suppose she scrubs out and sweeps out the bed
of that brook before she'll let a bit of water come in again."
"Well, she _is_ fussy," laughed Jewel. "Even Mrs. Forbes wouldn't do that."
"I ask you," pursued Mr. Evringham, "what would the turtles do while the
war was on?"
"Why, they couldn't live there, of course. Well, we won't be here while the
ravine is empty of the brook, will we, grandpa? I shouldn't like to see
it."
"No, we shall be where there's 'water, water everywhere.' Even Summer won't
attempt to houseclean the bottom of the sea."
Jewel thought a minute. "I wish she wouldn't do that," she said wistfully;
"because turtles would be fun, wouldn't they, grandpa?"
Mr. Evringham regarded her quizzically. "I see what you want me to do," he
replied. "You want me to give up Wall Street and become the owner of a
menagerie, so you can have every animal that was ever heard of."
Jewel smiled and shook her head. "I don't believe I do yet. We'll have to
wait till everybody loves to be good."
"What has that to do with it?"
"Then the lions and tigers will be pleasant."
"Will they, indeed?" Mr. Evringham laughed. "All those good people won't
shut them up in cages then, I fancy."
"No, I don't believe they will," replied Jewel.
"But about those turtles," continued her grandfather. "How would you like
it next spring for me to get some for you for the brook?"
Jewel's eyes sparkled. "Wouldn't that be the most _fun_?" she
returned,--"but then there's summer again," she added, sobering.
"What's the reason that we couldn't drive with them to the nearest river
before the brook ran dry?"
"Perhaps we could," replied Jewel hopefully "Doesn't mother tell the
_nicest_ stories, grandpa?"
"She certainly does; and some of the most wonderful you don't hear at all.
She tells them to me after you have gone to bed."
"Then you ought to tell them to me," answered Jewel, "just the way I tell
mine to you."
Mr. Evringham shook his head. "They probably wouldn't make you open your
eyes as wide as I do mine; you're used to them. They're Christian Science
stories. Your mother has been treating my rheumatism, Jewel. What do you
think of that?"
"Oh, I'm glad," replied the child heartily, "because then you've asked her
to."
"How do you know I have?"
"Because she wouldn't treat you if you hadn't, and mother says when people
are willing to ask for it, then that's the beginning of everything good for
them. You know, grandpa," Jewel leaned toward him lovingly and added
softly, "you know even _you_ have to meet mortal mind."
"I shouldn't wonder," responded the broker dryly.
"And it's so proud, and hates to give up so," said Jewel.
"I'm an old dog," returned Mr. Evringham. "Teaching me new tricks is going
to be no joke, but your mother undertakes it cheerfully. I'm reading that
book, 'Science and Health;' and she says I may have to read it through
three times before I get the hang of it."
"I don't believe you will, grandpa, because it's just as _plain_," said the
child.
"You'll help me, Jewel?"
"Yes, indeed I will;" the little girl's face was radiant. "And won't Mr.
Reeves be glad to see you coming to church with us?"
"I don't know whether I shall ever make Mr. Reeves glad in that way or not.
I'm doing this to try to understand something of what you and your mother
are so sure of, and what has made a man of your father. More than that, if
there is any eternity for us, I propose to stick to you through it, and it
may be more convenient to study here than off in some dim no-man's-land in
the hereafter. If I remain ignorant, who can tell but the Power that Is
will whisk you away from me by and by."
Jewel gathered the speaker's meaning very well, and now she smiled at him
with the look he loved best; all her heart in her eyes. "He wouldn't. God
isn't anybody to be afraid of," she said.
"Why, it tells us all through the Bible to fear God."
"Yes, of course it tells us to fear to trouble the One who loves us the
best of all. Just think how even you and I would fear to hurt one another,
and God is keeping us _alive_ with _his_ love!"
Half an hour afterward their horses cantered up the drive toward the house.
Mrs. Evringham was seated on the piazza, sewing. Her husband had sent the
summer wardrobe promptly, and she wore now a thin blue gown that looked
charmingly comfortable.
"Genuine!" thought her father-in-law, as he came up the steps and met a
smiling welcome from her clear eyes. He liked the simple manner in which
she dressed her hair. He liked her complexion, and carriage, and voice.
"I don't know but that you have the better part here on the piazza, it is
so warm," he said, "but I have been thinking of you rather remorsefully
this afternoon, Julia. These excursions of Jewel's and mine are growing to
seem rather selfish. Have you ever learned to ride?"
"Never, and I don't wish to. Please believe how supremely content I am."
"My carriages are small. It is so long since I've had a family. When we
return I shall get one that will hold us all."
"Oh, yes, grandpa," cried Jewel enthusiastically. "You and I on the front
seat, driving, and mother and father on the back seat."
"Well, we have more than two months to decide how we shall sit. I fancy it
will oftener be your father and mother in the phaeton and you and I on our
noble steeds, eh, Jewel?"
"Yes, I think so, too," she returned seriously.
Mr. Evringham smiled slightly at his daughter. "The occasions when we
differ are not numerous enough to mention," he remarked.
"I hope it may always be so," she replied, going on with her work.
"This looks like moving," observed the broker, wiping his forehead with his
pocket-handkerchief and looking about on the still, green scene. "I think
we had better plan to go to the shore next week."
Julia smiled and sighed. "Very well, but any change seems as if it might be
for the worse," she said.
"Then you've never tried summer in New Jersey," he responded. "I hear you
are a great story-teller, Julia. If I should wear some large bows behind my
ears, couldn't I come to some of these readings?"
As no laugh from Jewel greeted this sally, he looked down at her. She was
gazing off wistfully.
"What is it, Jewel?" he asked.
"I was wondering if it wouldn't seem a long time to Essex Maid and Star
without us!"
"Dear me, dear me, how little you do know those horses!" and the broker
shook his head.
"Why, grandpa? Will they like it?"
"Do you suppose for one minute that you could make them stay at home?"
"Are they going with us, grandpa?" Jewel began to hop joyfully, but her
habit interfered.
"Certainly. They naturally want to see what sort of bits and bridles are
being worn at the seashore this year."
"Do you realize what unfashionable people you are proposing to take,
yourself, father?" asked Julia. She was visited by daily doubts in this
regard.
The broker returned her glance gravely. "Have you ever seen Jewel's silk
dress?" he asked.
The child beamed at him. "She _made_ it!" she announced triumphantly.
"Then you must know," said Mr. Evringham, "that it would save any social
situation."
Julia laughed over her sewing. "My machine came to-day," she said. "I meant
to make something a little fine, but if we go in a few days"--
"Don't think of it," replied the host hastily. "You are both all right. I
don't want you to see a needle. I'm sorry you are at it now."
"But I like it. I really do."
"I'm going to take you to the coolest place on Long Island, but not to the
most fashionable."
"That is good news," returned Julia, "Run along, Jewel, and dress for
dinner."
"In one minute," put in Mr. Evringham. "She and I wish your opinion of
something first."
He disappeared for a moment into the house and came back with a flat
package which Jewel watched with curious eyes while he untied the string.
Silently he placed a photograph in his daughter's lap while the child
leaned eagerly beside her.
"Why, why, how good!" exclaimed Mrs. Evringham, and Jewel's eyes glistened.
"Isn't grandpa's nose just splendid!" she said fervently.
"Why, father, this picture will be a treasure," went on Julia. Color had
risen in her face.
The photograph showed Jewel standing beside her grandfather seated, and her
arm was about his neck. It was such a natural attitude that she had taken
it while waiting for the photographer to be ready. The daisy-wreathed hat
hung from her hand, and she had not known when the picture was taken. It
was remarkably lifelike, and the broker regarded it with a satisfaction
none the less keen because he let the others do all the talking.
"And now we don't need it, grandpa," said the child.
"Oh, indeed we do!" exclaimed the mother; and Jewel, catching her
grandfather's eyes, lifted her shoulders. What did her mother know of
their secret!
Mr. Evringham smoothed his mustache. "No harm to have it, Jewel," he
replied, nodding at her. "No harm; a very good plan, in fact; for I
suppose, even to oblige me, you can't refrain from growing up. And next we
must get Star's picture, with you on his back."
"But you weren't on Essex Maid's," objected Jewel.
"We'll have it taken both ways, then. It's best always to be on the safe
side."
From this day on there was no more chance for Jewel to hear a tale in the
Story Book, until the move to the seashore was accomplished, for hot
weather had evidently come to stay in Bel-Air Park. Mrs. Evringham felt
loath to leave its green, still loveliness and her large shady rooms; but
the New Jerseyite's heat panic had seized upon her father-in-law, and he
pushed forward the preparations for flight.
"I can't pity you for remaining here," Julia said to Mrs. Forbes on the
morning of departure.
"No, ma'am, you don't need to," returned the housekeeper. "Zeke and I are
going off on trips, and we, calculate to have a pretty good time of it.
I've been wanting to speak to you, Mrs. Evringham, about a business
matter," continued Mrs. Forbes, her manner indicating that she had
constrained herself to make an effort. "Mr. Evringham tells me you and Mr.
Harry are to make your home with him. It's a good plan," emphatically, "as
right as right can be; for what he would do without Jewel isn't easy to
think of; but it's given me a lot to consider. I won't be necessary here
any more," the housekeeper tried to conceal what the statement cost her.
She endeavored to continue, but could not, and Julia saw that she did not
trust her voice.
"Mr. Evringham has not said that, I am sure," she returned.
"No, and he never would; but that shouldn't prevent my doing right. You can
take care of him and his house now, and I wanted to tell you that I see
that, plainly, and am willing to go when you all come back. I shall have
plenty of time this summer to turn around and make my plans. There's
plenty of work in this world for willing hands to do, and I'm a long way
off from being worn out yet."
"I'm so glad you spoke about this before we left," replied Mrs. Evringham,
smiling on the brave woman. "Father has said nothing to me about it, and I
am certain he would as soon dispense with one of the supports of the house
as with you. We all want to be busy at something, and I have a glimmering
idea of what my work is to be; and I think it is not housekeeping. I should
be glad to have our coming disturb father's habits as little as possible,
and certainly neither you or I should be the first to speak of any change."
Mrs. Forbes bit her lip. "Well," she returned, "you see I knew it would
come hard on him to ask me to go, and I wanted you both to know that I'd
see it reasonably."
"It was good of you," said Julia; "and that is all we ever need to be sure
of--just that we are willing to be led, and then, while we look to God,
everything will come right." The housekeeper drank in the sweet expression
of the speaker's eyes, and smiled, a bit unsteadily. "Of course I'd rather
stay," she replied. "Transplanting folks is as hard and risky as trees. You
can't ever be sure they'll flourish in the new ground; but I want to do
right. I've been reading some in Zeke's book, 'Science and Health,' and
there was one sentence just got hold of me:[1] 'Self-love is more opaque
than a solid body. In patient obedience to a patient God, let us labor to
dissolve with the universal solvent of Love the adamant of
error--self-will, self-justification, and self-love!' Jewel's helped me to
dissolve enough so I could face handing over the keys of this house to her
mother. I'm not saying I could have offered them to everybody."
[Footnote 1: _S. and H._, page 242.]
Mrs. Evringham smiled. "Thank you. I hope it isn't your duty to give them,
nor mine to take them. We'll leave all that to father. My idea is that he
would send us all back to Chicago rather than give you up--his right hand."
Mrs. Forbes's face relaxed, and she breathed more freely than for many
days. As she took her way out to the barn to report this conversation to
Zeke, her state of mind agreed with that of her employer when he declared
his pleasure that Julia had married into the family.