as she lay in her corner. Her father was lonely and hard
worked, with no one to take pity on him. A veil seemed to drop from her
eyes, even while they grew wet.

"I don't believe I'm too old to change, even if I am going on nine,"
thought Emilie. At that minute the block house fell in ruins, and Peter,
self-controlled though he was, looked toward the desk and began to whimper.

"Peter--Baby," cried Emilie softly, leaning forward and holding out the
picture of a horse in her book.

Her father had turned with an involuntary sigh, and seeing Peter trot
toward the sofa and Emilie receive him with open arms, went back to his
papers with a relief that his little daughter saw. Her breath came fast and
she hugged the baby. Something caught in her throat.

"Oh, papa, you don't know how many, _many_ times I'm going to do it," she
said in the silence of her own full heart.

And Emilie kept that unspoken promise.

CHAPTER XI

THE GOLDEN DOG

"I think, after all, the ravine is the nicest place for stories," said
Jewel the next day.

The sun had dried the soaked grass, and not only did the leaves look
freshly polished from their bath, but the swollen brook seemed to be
turning joyous little somersaults over its stones when Mrs. Evringham,
Jewel, and Anna Belle scrambled down to its bank.

"I don't know that we ought to read a story every day," remarked Mrs.
Evringham. "They won't last long at this rate."

"When we finish we'll begin and read them all over again," returned Jewel
promptly.

"Oh, that's your plan, is it?" said Mrs. Evringham, laughing.

Jewel laughed too, for sheer happiness, though she saw nothing amusing
about such an obviously good plan. "Aren't we getting well acquainted,
mother?" she asked, nestling close to her mother's side and forgetting Anna
Belle, who at once lurched over, head downward, on the grass. "Do you
remember what a little time you used to have to hold me in your lap and hug
me?"

"Yes, dearie. Divine Love is giving me so many blessings these days I only
pray to bear them well," replied Mrs. Evringham.

"Why, I think it's just as _easy_ to bear blessings, mother," began Jewel,
and then she noticed her child's plight. "Darling Anna Belle, what are you
doing!" she exclaimed, picking up the doll and brushing her dress. "I
shouldn't think you had any more backbone than an error-fairy! Now don't
look sorry, dearie, because to-day it's your turn to choose the story."

Anna Belle