stant, "Oh, I've thought of
something." She whisked about, took the ribbons and tied one tightly
around the end of each braid, then ducking her forehead into his shirt
front, "Now put your arms around my neck and tie the bow just as if it
was on yourself." Eureka! The thing was accomplished and Mrs. Forbes
outwitted. The broker was rather pleased with himself, at the billowy
appearance of the ribbon which covered such a multitude of sins in the
way of bad parting and braiding. He took his handkerchief and wiped
the beads of perspiration from his brow, while Jewel regarded him with
admiring affection.

"I knew you could do just _anything_, grandpa!" she said. "You see,"
looking off at a mental vision of the housekeeper, "we could come in
here every morning for a minute before breakfast, and she'd never know,
would she?" The child lifted her shoulders and laughed softly with
pleasure at the plot.

Mr. Evringham saw his opportunity to take the floor.

"Now Jewel, I would like to have you explain what you meant by saying
that you telegraphed to Chicago to-day, when you didn't leave your bed."

She looked up at him attentively. "Ezekiel took it for me," she replied.

Mr. Evringham unconsciously heaved a sigh of relief at this commonplace
information. His knowledge of the claims of Christian Science was
extremely vague, and he had feared being obliged to listen to a
declaration of the use of some means of communication which would make
Marconi's discoveries appear like clumsy makeshifts.

"But I think, grandpa, perhaps you'd better not tell Mrs. Forbes."

"How did you manage to see Zeke?"

"I asked his mother if he might come to see me before he took you to the
train."

Mr. Evringham pulled his mustache in amusement. "Did he pay for the
telegram?"

"Why no, grandpa. I told you I had plenty of money."

"And you think that Mrs. Somebody in Chicago cured you?"

"Of course not. God did."

"But she asked Him, eh?"

Jewel's innocent eyes looked directly into the quizzical ones. "It's
pretty hard for a little girl to teach you about it if you don't know,"
she said doubtfully.

"I _don't_ know," he replied, his mood altered by her tone, "but I
should like to know what you think about it. Your cure was a rather
surprising one to us all."

"I can tell you some of the things I know."

"Do so then."

"Well"--a pause--"there wasn't anything to cure, you see."

"Ah! You weren't ill then!"

"No--o," scornfully, "o