The broker looked away and fussed with an envelope.

"Grandpa," continued the child after a pause, "I've been thinking that
there's one secret we've got to keep from father and mother."

Mr. Evringham looked back at her. This was the most cheering word he had
heard for some time.

"It wouldn't be loving to let them know how sorry it makes us to say
good-by, would it? I get such lumps in my throat when I think about not
riding with you or having breakfast together. I do work over it and think
how happy it will be to have father and mother again, and how Love gives us
everything we ought to have and everything like that; but I
_have_--cried--twice, thinking about it! Even Anna Belle is mortified the
way I act. I know you feel sorry, too, and we've got to demonstrate over
it; but it'll come so soon, and I guess I didn't begin to work in time.
Anyway, I was wondering if we couldn't just have a secret and manage not to
say good-by to each other." The corners of the child's mouth were twitching
down now, and she took out a small handkerchief and wiped her eyes.

Mr. Evringham blew his nose violently, and crossing the office turned the
key in the door.

"I think that would be an excellent plan, Jewel," he returned, rather
thickly, but with an endeavor to speak heartily. "Of course your
confounded--I mean to say your--your parents will naturally expect you to
follow their plans and"--he paused.

"And it would be so unloving to let them think that I was sorry after they