he stones. "I have a checked silk
dress," she added softly, after a pause. It were well to let him know
the value of her baggage.

"Have you indeed? How old are you, Julia? Your name is Julia, I
believe?"

"Yes, sir, my _name's_ Julia, but so is mother's, and they call me
Jewel. I'm nearly nine, grandpa."

"H'm. Time flies," was the brief response.

Jewel looked out of the cab window in the noisy silence that followed.
At last her voice was raised to sound through the clatter. "I suppose my
trunk is somewhere else," she said suggestively.

"Yes, your trunk will reach home all right, plaid silk and all."

Jewel smiled, and lifting the doll she let her look out the window upon
the uninviting prospect. "Anna Belle's clothes are in the trunk, too,"
she added, turning and speaking confidentially.

"Whose?" asked Mr. Evringham, startled. "There's no one else coming, I
suppose?"

"Why, this is Anna Belle," returned the child, laughing and lifting the
bisque beauty so that the full radiance of her smile beamed upon her
companion. "That's your great-grandfather, dearie, that I've told you
about," she said patronizingly. "We've been so _excited_ the last few
days since we knew we were coming," looking again at Mr. Evringham.
"I've told Anna Belle all about beautiful Bel-Air Park, and the big
house, and the big trees, and the ravine, and the brook. Isn't it nice,"
joyfully, "that it doesn't rain to-day, and we shall see it in the
sunshine?"

"Rain would have made it more disagreeable certainly," returned Mr.
Evringham, congratulating himself that he was escaping that further rain
of tears which he had dreaded. "It is a good day for your father and
mother to set out on their trip," he added.

"Yes, and they're only to be gone six little weeks," returned Jewel,
smoothing her doll's boa; "and I'm to have this lovely visit, and I'm to
write them very often, and they'll write to me, and we shall all be so
happy!" Jewel trotted Anna Belle on her short-skirted knee and hummed a
tune, which was lost in the rattle of wheels.

"You can read and write, eh?"

"Oh ye--es!" replied the child with amused scorn. "How would I get
my lessons if I couldn't read? Of course--big words," she added
conscientiously.

"Precisely," agreed Mr. Evringham dryly. "Big words, I dare say."

A sudden thought occurring to his companion, she looked up again.

"You pretty nearly didn't come," she said, "and just think, if you
hadn't I was going t