s she sobbed
heavily. The air was filled with an odor which had for Jewel sickening
associations. The only terror, the only tragedy, of her short life was
wrapped about with this pungent smell. She seemed again to hear her
mother's sobs, to feel once more that sensation of all things coming to
ruin which descended upon her at the unprecedented sight and sound of
her strong mother's emotion.

All at once she perceived Zeke sitting on a low chair, his arms hanging
across his knees and his head fallen.

The child turned very pale. Her doll slid unnoticed to the floor, as she
pressed her little hands to her eyes.

"Father, Mother, God," she murmured in gasps. "Thou art all power. We
are thy children. Error has no power over us. Help us to waken from this
lie."

Running up to the housekeeper, she clasped her arms about her convulsed
form. "Dear Mrs. Forbes," she said, her soft voice trembling at first
but growing firm, "I know this claim, but it can be healed. It seems
very terrible, but it's nothing. We know it, we must know it."

The woman lifted her head and looked down with swollen eyes upon the
child. She saw her go unhesitatingly across to Zeke and kneel beside
him.

"Don't be discouraged, Zeke," she said lovingly. "I know how it seems,
but my father had it and he was healed. You will be healed."

The coachman lifted his rumpled head and stared at her with bloodshot
eyes.

"Great fuss 'bout nothing," he said sullenly. "Mother always fussing."

Something in his look made the child shudder. Resisting the sudden
repugnance to one who had always shown her kindness, she impulsively
took his big hand in both her little ones. "Zeke, what is error saying
to you?" she demanded. "You can't look at me without love. I love you
because God does. He is lifting us out of this error belief."

The young fellow returned the clasp of the soft hands and winked his
eyes like one who is waking. "Mother makes great fuss," he grumbled.
"Scott was here. We had two or three little friendly drinks. Ma had to
come in and blubber."

"What friendly drinks? What do you mean?" demanded Jewel, looking all
about her. Her eyes fell upon a large black bottle. She dropped the
coachman's hand and picked it up. She smelled of it, her eyes dilated,
and she began to tremble again; and throwing the whiskey from her, she
buried her face for a moment against Zeke's shirt sleeve.

"Is it in a bottle!" she exclaimed at last, in a hushed voice, drawi