said gayly. "Thank you for bringing me."

"Good-by, Jewel," he returned in subdued accents, and stumbling on the
threshold, passed out with a furtive wave of his hat.

The child returned and jumped into a chair by the desk, reserved for the
selected visitors who succeeded in invading this precinct. "I suppose you
aren't quite through," she said, fixing her host with a blissful gaze as he
worked among a scattered pile of papers.

"Very nearly," he returned. He saw that she was near to bubbling over with
ideas ready to pour out to him. He knew, too, that she would wait his time.
It entertained him to watch her furtively as she gave herself to inspecting
the furnishings of the room and the pictures on the wall, then looked down
at the patent leather tips of her best shoes as they swung to and fro. At
last she began to look at him more and more wistfully, and to view the
furnishings of the large desk. It had a broad shelf at the top.

Suddenly Jewel caught sight of a picture standing there in a square frame,
and an irrepressible "Oh!" escaped from her lips.

She pressed her hands together and Mr. Evringham saw a deeper rose in her
cheeks. He followed her eyes, and silently taking the picture from the desk
placed it in her lap. She clasped it eagerly. It was a fine photograph of
Essex Maid, her grandfather's mare.

In a minute he spoke:--

"Now I think I'm about through, Jewel," he said, leaning back in his
chair.