Eloise.

Neither could Mr. Evringham. He had taken Jewel into his study now
with the intention of finding out, deeming a secluded apartment more
desirable for catechism which might lay him liable to personal attack.

As they entered the library he turned on the light, and Jewel glanced
about with her usual alert and ready admiration.

"Is this your own, own particular room, grandpa?" she asked.

"Yes, where I keep all my books and papers."

The child's eye suddenly lighted on the yellow chicken, and she looked
up at Mr. Evringham with a pleased smile. He had forgotten the chicken,
and took the seat before his desk, glancing vaguely about to see which
chair would be least heavy and ponderous for his guest. She settled
the matter without any hesitation by jumping upon his knee. Jewel had a
subject on her mind which pressed heavily, and before her companion
had had time to do more than wink once or twice in his surprise, she
proceeded to it.

"Do you know, grandpa, I think it's hard for Mrs. Forbes to love people
very much," she said in a lowered voice, as if perhaps the walls might
have ears. "I wanted to ask her yesterday morning if she didn't love me
whom she had seen, how could she love God whom she hadn't seen. Grandpa,
would you be willing to tie my bows?"

"To tie"--repeated Mr. Evringham, and paused.

The child was gazing into his eyes earnestly. She put her hand into her
pocket and took out two long pieces of blue ribbon.

"You see, you're my only real relation," she explained, "and so I don't
like to ask anybody else."

The startled look in her grandfather's face moved her to proceed
encouragingly.

"You tie your neckties just beautifully, grandpa; and Mrs. Forbes does
her duty so _hard_, and she wants to have my hair cut off, to save
trouble." Jewel put her hand up to one short pigtail protectingly.

"And you don't want it cut off, eh?"

"No; and mother wouldn't either. So it would be error, and I'm sure I
could learn to fix it better than I did to-night, if you would tie the
bows. Just try one right now, grandpa."

"With the house full of women!" gasped Mr. Evringham.

"But none of them my real relatives," replied Jewel, and she turned the
back of her head to him, putting the ribbons in his hands.

His fingers fumbled at the task for a minute, and his breathing began to
be heavy.

"Is it hard, grandpa?" she asked sympathetically. "You can do it.
You reflect intelligence." Then in an in