Read an Excerpt
Mr. Evringham was in a yielding state of mind. He allowed the pressure of [Jewel’s] hand on his to lead him to the drawing-room where his entrance made a little stir. Dr. Ballard was seated near the piano, listening to the music. Everybody rose as the newcomers entered.
“How are you, Ballard? Jewel wished to hear her cousin’s music, and so behold us. If we bring a reminder of the stable, blame her.”.....
“What? Something the matter with Essex Maid?’ asked Dr. Ballard with concern.
“Yes.” Mr. Evringham seated himself. “A sharp attack, but short. She was relieved before we could get Busby here.” The speaker contracted his eyebrows and looked at the child, who was still beside him. “The mare had received mental treatment meanwhile,” he added gravely.
Dr. Ballard smiled, and drawing Jewel to him, lifted her upon his knee. ”Look here,” he said, ”can’t you let anything around here be sick in peace? We doctors shall have to form a union and manage to get you boycotted.”....
Eloise was still sitting on the piano stool, facing the room.” Grandfather,” she said, leaning slightly forward in her earnestness, “did Jewel really treat Essex Maid?”
The broker shrugged his shoulders and smiled as he stirred his coffee.
“I believe she did.”
“And do you think it did the horse any good?”
“Don’t be absurd! cried her mother laughingly, on nettles lest the girl displease the young doctor.....
Mrs. Evringham looked on and wondered. “What is it about that child that takes them all? She soliloquized. “She reminds me of that dreadfully plain Madam what’s-her-name, who was so fascinating to everybody at the French court.”
Eloise was smiling. “Now it’s your turn, Jewel,” she said.
The child looked from one to another. “I never sang for anybody,” she returned doubtfully....
“The one I heard,-‘Father, where Thine own children are I love to be.’
“Oh, you mean ‘O’er waiting harpstrings.’ All right,” and the child, sitting where she was, sang the well-loved hymn to a touched audience.
“Upon my word, Jewel,” said her grandfather when she had finished. “Your music isn’t all in your soul.” His eyes were glistening. “Those are beautiful words,” said Dr. Ballard. “I don’t remember any such hymn.”
“Mrs. Eddy wrote it,” returned the child.
“It wasn’t Castle Discord tonight,” she said later to Anna Belle [her doll] , while they were going to bed. “Didn’t you notice how much differently people loved one another?”