do a thing. I saw the tears drip out of Mr. Evringham's
eyes plain as I see you now. Zeke Forbes, you'll never know what it was
to me to have you come in and speak the way you did. You couldn't have
done it if you'd mistreated the horse any way."

"Thank you," returned the coachman emphatically. "I ain't monkeying with
buzz saws this year."

"Not knowingly you wouldn't. But, child,"--Mrs. Forbes set down the
kettle and pressed the other hand tighter to her bosom as she came
closer to him, "last night you'd been drinking when you came home."

"Ho!" laughed Zeke uncomfortably, "just a smile or two with the boys. By
ginger, you've got a nose on you, mother."

"Can you think of your father and then laugh over it, Zeke? There hasn't
a man ever come to be a sot that didn't laugh about it in the first
place."

"Now, mother, now, now," said the young fellow in half-impatient tones
of consolation, as he took the handkerchief from her apron pocket and
wiped her eyes, where tears began to spring. "You must trust a chap to
do what's right. I ain't a fool. Don't you think about this again. I
can take care of myself. Come now, to change the subject, what's your
opinion of Christian Science as applied to horses with the colic?"

"What do you mean?" returned the housekeeper in an unusually subdued
tone.

"Why, didn't you catch on? The kid was over there in the corner treating
the Maid. That's what they call it, treating 'em. Mr. Evringham laughed
when he found out, and she jumped on him. Yes, she did; came right out
and told him that wasn't the way to show his gratitude, or something
like that. Think of the nerve!"

"I ain't surprised. That child can't surprise me."

"But what do you think of it, ma? I tell you 't was queer, the way that
mare's pain stopped. Of course I ain't going to believe--but," firmly,
"I can't get away from a notion that those Christian Science folks know
something that we don't. Busby was madder'n a hornet. I didn't scarcely
know what to say to him."

"Don't be soft, Zeke," returned his mother, picking up the kettle. "The
time for superstition has gone by."

As Jewel and her grandfather entered the house they heard music.

"That's cousin Eloise playing. Have you heard her grandpa?"

"Yes, when they first came."

"Than you haven't sat with them in the evening for a long time?"
suggested the child.

"No. I--I didn't wish to monopolize their society. I wanted to give Dr.
Ballard a chance. He is