her child's experiences in the last two months. Jewel's letters had
conveyed that she was content, and joy in her pony had been freely
expressed. The mother's mental picture of the stiff, cold individual to
whose doubtful mercies she had confided her child at such short notice had
been softened by the references to him in Jewel's letters; and it was with
a shock of disappointment that she found herself repulsed now by the same
unyielding personality, the same cold-eyed, unsmiling, fastidiously dressed
figure, whose image had lingered in her memory. A dozen eager questions
rose to her lips, but she repressed them.

"Jewel must have had a glimpse of the real man," she thought. "I must not
cloud her perception." It did not occur to her, however, that the child
could even now feel less than awe of the stern guardian with whom she had
succeeded in living at peace, and who had, from time to time, bestowed upon
her gifts. One of these Mrs. Evringham noticed now.

"Oh, that's your pretty watch!" she said.

"Yes," returned the child, "this is Little Faithful. Isn't he a darling?"

The mother smiled as she lifted the silver cherub. "You've named him?" she
returned. "Why, it is a beauty, Jewel. How kind of your grandfather!"

"Yes, indeed. It was so I wouldn't stay in the ravine too long."

"How is Anna Belle?"

"Dear Anna Belle!" exclaimed the little girl wistfully. "What a good time
she would have had if I could have brought her! But you see I needed both
my hands to help carry bags; and she understood about it and sent her love.