The Ravine

: Jewel

Outside the well-kept roads of Bel-Air Park, Nature had been encouraged

to work her sweet will. The drive wound along the edge of a picturesque

gorge, and it was not long before Jewel found the scene of her father's

favorite stories.



The sides of the ravine were studded with tall trees, and in its depths

flowed a brook, unusually full now from the spring rains.



The child lost no time in cree
ing beneath the slender wire fence at

the roadside, and scrambling down the incline. The brook whispered and

gurgled, wild flowers sprang amid the ferns in the shelter and moisture.

The child was enraptured.



"Oh, Anna Belle!" She exclaimed, hugging the doll for pure joy. "Castle

Discord is far away. There's nobody down here but God!"



For hours she played happily in the enchanting spot, all unconscious

of time. Anna Belle lay on a bed of moss, while Jewel became acquainted

with her wonderful new playmate, the brook. The only body of water with

which she had been familiar hitherto was Lake Michigan. Now she drew

stones out of the bank and made dams and waterfalls. She sailed boats of

chips and watched them shoot the tiny rapids. She lay down on the bank

beside Anna Belle and gazed up through the leafy treetops. Many times

this programme had been varied, when at last equipages began to pass on

the road above. She could see twinkling wheels and smart liveries.



With a start of recollection, she considered that she might have been a

long time in the ravine.



"I wish somebody would let me bring a watch the next time," she said

to her doll, as she took her up. "Haven't we had a beautiful afternoon,

Anna Belle? Let's call it the Ravine of Happiness, and we'll come here

every day--just every day; but perhaps it's time for grandpa to be home,

dearie, so we must go back to the castle." She sighed unconsciously as

she began climbing up the steep bank and crept under the wire. "I hope

we haven't stayed very long, because the giantess might not like it,"

she continued uneasily; but as she set her feet in the homeward road,

every sensation of anxiety fled before an approaching vision. She saw

a handsome man in riding dress mounted on a shining horse with arched

neck, that lifted its feet daintily as it pranced along the tree-lined

avenue.



"Grandpa!" ejaculated Jewel, stepping to the roadside and pausing, her

hands clasped beneath her chin and her eyes shining with admiration.



Mr. Evringham drew rein, not displeased by the encounter. The child

apparently could not speak. She eyed the horse rather than its rider, a

fact which the latter observed and enjoyed.



"Remind you of the horse show?" he inquired.



"It is the horse show," rejoined the child.



"This is Essex Maid, Jewel," said Mr. Evringham. He patted the mare's

shining neck. "You shall go out to the barn with me some time and visit

her." His eyes wandered over the ruffled hair, the hat on the back of

the child's head, and the wet spots on her dress. "Run home now," he

added. "I heard Mrs. Forbes asking for you as I came out."



He rode on, and Jewel, her face radiant, followed him with her eyes. In

a minute he turned, and she threw rapid kisses after him. He raised his

hat, and then a curve in the road hid him from view.



Jewel sighed rapturously and hurried along the road. The giantess had

asked for her. Ah, what a happy world it would be if there were nothing

at Bel-Air Park but grandpa, his horses, and the ravine!



Mrs. Forbes espied the child in the distance, and was at the door when

she came in.



"After this, Julia, you must never go away without telling me

where"--she began, when her eyes recognized the condition of the gingham

frock, and the child's feet. "Look at how you've drabbled your dress!"

she ejaculated.



"It's clean water," returned Julia.



"But your feet! Why, Julia Evringham, they are as wet as sop! Where have

you been?"



"Playing by the brook in the ravine."



Mrs. Forbes groaned. "Nothing will satisfy a child but finding the place

where they can get the dirtiest and make the most trouble. Why didn't

you wear your rubbers, you naughty girl?"



"Why--why--it wasn't raining."



"Raining! Those rubbers are to keep your feet dry. Haven't you got any

sense?"



Jewel looked a little pale. "I didn't know I should get wet in the

brook," she answered.



"Well, go right upstairs now, up the backstairs, and take off every one

of those wet things. Let me feel your petticoat. Yes, that's wet, too.

You undress and get into a hot bath, and then you put on your nightgown

and go right to bed."



"Go to bed!" echoed the child, bewildered.



"Yes, to bed. You won't come down to dinner. Perhaps that will teach you

to wear your rubbers next time and be more careful."



Jewel found the backstairs and ascended them, her little heart hot

within her.



"She's the impolitest woman in the whole world, Anna Belle!" she

whispered. "I'm going to not cry. Mother didn't know what impoliteness

there was at grandpa's or she wouldn't have let us come."



The child's eyes were bright as she found her room and began undressing.

"But you mustn't be angry, dearie," she continued excitedly to her doll.

"It's the worst error to be angry, because it means hating. You treat

me, Anna Belle, and I'll treat you," she went on, unfastening her

clothes with unsteady hands.



With many a pause to work at a refractory elastic or button, and many

interruptions from catches in her breath, she murmured aloud during the

process of her undressing: "Dear Father in Heaven, I seem to feel sorry

all over, and full of error. Help me to know that I'm not a mortal mind

little girl, hating and angry, but I am Thy child, and the only things I

know are good, happy things. Error has no power and Love has all power.

I love Mrs. Forbes, and she loves me. Thou art here even in this

house, and please help me to know that one of Thy children cannot hurt

another." Here Jewel slipped into the new wrapper her mother had made,

and hurried into the white tiled bathroom near by. While she let the

water run into the tub she put her hand into her pocket mechanically, in

search of a handkerchief, and when she felt the crisp touch of paper she

drew it out eagerly. It was covered, and she read the words written in

her mother's distinct hand.



"Love to my Jewel. Is she making a stepping-stone of every trial, and

learning to think less and less about herself, and more and more about

other people? And does she remember that little girls cannot always

understand the error that grown-up people have to meet, especially those

who have not Science to help them? They must be treated very gently, and

I hope my little Jewel will be always kind and patient, and make her new

friends glad she is there."



The child folded the paper and put it carefully back in her pocket.

Then she took her bath, and returning to her room undressed her doll in

silence. Finally, changing her wrapper for her nightdress, she climbed

into bed, where she lay thinking and looking at the sunlight on the

wall.



At dinner time the maid Sarah appeared with a tray. "Here's your dinner,

Miss Julia," she said, looking at the heavy-eyed little girl. "It's too

bad you're not well."



"I am well, thank you," replied Jewel. "I'm sorry you had to carry that

heavy tray up so many stairs."



"Oh, I don't mind that," returned the girl good-naturedly. "I'll set it

right here by the bed."



"Is grandpa down there?" asked Jewel wistfully.



"Yes, Miss Julia. They're all eating their dinner. I hope you'll enjoy

yours."



Sarah went away, and the little girl spread some bread and butter and

ate it slowly.



Meanwhile, when the family had gathered at the dinner table, Mr.

Evringham looked up at his housekeeper.



"Where is Jewel?" he asked shortly. "I object to her being unpunctual."



"Yes, sir. She is having dinner in her room. She was very naughty and

got wet in the brook."



"Ah, indeed!" Mr. Evringham frowned and looked down. He had been a

little disappointed that the bright face was not watching to see him

come home from his ride, but of course discipline must be maintained.

"I'm sorry to hear this," he added.



Mrs. Evringham and Eloise found him a shade less taciturn than usual

to-night. He felt vaguely that he now had an ally of his own flesh and

blood in the house, a spirit sufficiently kindred to prefer his society

to theirs, and this made him unusually lenient.



He meant to go upstairs after dinner, and warn Jewel to be more careful

in future to conform to all Mrs. Forbes's rules; but the meal was

scarcely over when a friend called to get him to attend some business

meeting held that evening in the interests of the town, and he became

interested in his statements and went away with him.



"Wasn't father quite agreeable this evening?" asked Mrs. Evringham of

Eloise. "What did I tell you? I could see that he felt relief because

that plain little creature was not in evidence. Father always was so

fastidious. Of course it is selfish in a way, but it is no use to blame

men for caring for beauty. They will do it."



"It was a shame to make that little girl stay upstairs," returned

Eloise. "I judge she managed to amuse herself this afternoon, and so she

gets punished for it. I should like to go up and sit with her."



"It would not be worth while," returned Mrs. Evringham quickly. "I'm

sure Dr. Ballard will be here soon. You would have to come right down

again."



"That is not the reason I don't go," returned the girl. "It is because

I am not an Evringham, and I have determined not to arrive at friendly

relations with any one of the name. When I once escape from here, they

will have seen the last of me."



"The way of escape lies open," returned her mother soothingly. "I'm glad

you have on that gown. If a man cares for a woman, he always loves to

see her in white."



As soon as dinner was over, Mrs. Forbes ascended the stairs to see

her prisoner. Jewel was lying quietly in bed, the tray, apparently

untouched, beside her. The latter circumstance Mrs. Forbes observed at

once.



"Why haven't you eaten your dinner, Julia?" she asked. "I hope you are

not sulking."



"No'm. I don't believe I am. I don't know what that means."



"You don't know what sulky means?" suspiciously. "It is very naughty for

a little girl to refuse to eat her dinner because she is angry at being

punished for her own good."



"Did you send me to bed because you loved me?" asked Jewel. Her cheeks

were very red, but even the disconcerted housekeeper could see that she

was not excited or angry.



"Everybody loves good little girls," returned Mrs. Forbes. "Now eat your

dinner, Julia, so I can carry down the tray."



"I did eat the bread. It was all I wanted. It was very nice."



The polite addition made the housekeeper uncertain. While she paused

Jewel added, "I wish I could see grandpa."



"He's gone out on business. He won't be back until after you are asleep.

And if you were thinking of complaining to him, Julia, I tell you it

won't do any good. He will trust everything to me."



"Do you think I would trouble grandpa?" returned the child.



The housekeeper looked at her in silent perplexity. The blue eyes were

direct and innocent, but there was a heaviness about them that stirred

Mrs. Forbes uncomfortably.



"You must have got too tired playing this afternoon, Julia," she said

decisively, "or you would be hungry for your dinner. You took that hot

bath I told you to?"



"Yes'm."



"Where have you put your wet things? Oh, I see, you've spread them out

very nicely; but those shoes--I shall have to have them cleaned and

polished for you. Now go to sleep as quick as you can and have a

long night's rest. I'm sure the next time you go out you won't be so

careless."



Jewel's eyes followed the speaker as she bustled about and at last took

up the tray.



"Will you kiss me good-night, Mrs. Forbes?" asked the child.



The surprised housekeeper set down her burden, stooped over the bed and

kissed her.



"There now, I see you're sorry," she said, somewhat touched.



Jewel gave her a little smile. "No'm, I've stopped being sorry," she

replied.



"She'd puzzle a Philadelphia lawyer," soliloquized the housekeeper

as she descended the stairs with the tray. "I suppose her mother is

uneducated and uses queer English. As the old ones croak, the young ones

learn. The child uses words nobody ever heard of, and is ignorant of the

commonest ones. I'm glad she's so fond of me if I've got to take care of

her."



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