rned Jewel, "there isn't any space in Spirit." She
gave a little sigh. "I'm real sorry you're too big to be let into the
Christian Science Sunday-School."

Mrs. Forbes lips fell apart.

"One moment more, Jewel," said Mr. Evringham. "Mrs. Forbes was telling
me of the gentleman who spoke to you on the trolley car yesterday."

"Oh yes," returned the child, smiling at the pleasing memory. "The
Christian Scientist!"

"What makes you think he is a Christian Scientist?" asked Mr. Evringham.

"I know he was. He had on the pin." Jewel showed the one she wore, and
her grandfather examined the little cross and crown curiously.

"I wonder if it's possible," he soliloquized aloud.

"Oh yes, grandpa, he is one, and if he's a friend of yours he can
explain to you so much better than a little girl can."

After the child had left the room Mr. Evringham and his housekeeper
stood regarding one another. His usually unsmiling countenance was
relaxed. Mrs. Forbes observed his novel expression, but did not suspect
that the light twinkling in his deep-set eyes was partly due to the
sight of her own pent-up emotion.

He hooked one thumb in his vest and balanced his eyeglasses in his other
hand.

"Well, what do you think of her?" he inquired.

"I think, sir," returned the housekeeper emphatically, "that if anybody
bought that child for a fool he wouldn't get his money's worth."

"Even though she is a Scientist?" added Mr. Evringham, his mustache
curving in a smile.

"She's too smart for me. I don't like children to be so smart. The idea
of her setting up to teach you Mr. Evringham!"

"That shouldn't be so surprising. I read a long time ago something about
certain things being concealed from the wise and prudent and revealed
unto babes."

"Babes!" repeated Mrs. Forbes. "We've been the babes. If that young one
can lie in bed with a fever, and wind every one of us around her finger
the way she's done to-day, what can we expect when she's up and around?"

The broker laughed. "She's an Evringham, an Evringham!" he said.

"You may laugh, sir, but what do you think of her wheedling me into
sending Zeke up, and then getting him off on the sly with that telegram?
I faced him down with it to-night, and Zeke isn't any good at fibbing."

"I'll be hanged if I don't think it was a pretty good thing for me,"
rejoined Mr. Evringham, "and money in my pocket. It looked as if I was
in for Ballard for a matter of weeks."

"But the--the--the a