The mother stooped over the little bed and the dingy room looked pleasanter for her smile. "Jewel hasn't any pink silk stockings," she murmured, and kissed the warm rose of the round cheek.
The little girl stirred and opened her eyes, at first vaguely, then with a start.
"Is it time for the boat?" she asked, trying to rise.
Her father smoothed her hair. "No, time to go to sleep again. We're just going to bed. Good-night, Jewel." He stooped to kiss her, and her arms met around his neck.
"It was an April fool, wasn't it?" she murmured sleepily, and was unconscious again.
The mother hid her face for a moment on her husband's shoulder. "Help me to feel that we're doing right," she whispered, with a catch in her breath.
"As if I could help _you_, Julia!" he returned humbly.
"Oh, yes, you can, dear." She withdrew from his embrace, and going to the dresser, took down her hair. The smiling face of a doll looked up at her from the neighboring chair, where it was sitting bolt upright. Her costume was fresh from the modiste, and her feet, though hopelessly pigeon-toed, were encased in bronze boots of a freshness which caught the dim gaslight with a golden sheen.
Mrs. Evringham smiled through her moist eyes.
"Well, Jewel _was_ sleepy. She forgot to undress Anna Belle," she said.
Letting her hair fall about her like a veil, she caught up the doll and pressed it to her heart impulsively. "You are going to stay with her, Anna Belle! I envy you, I envy you!" she whispered. An irrepressible tear fell on the sumptuous trimming of the little hat. "Be good to her; comfort her, comfort her, little dolly." Hastily wiping her eyes, she turned to her husband, still holding the doll. "We shall have to be very careful, Harry, in the morning. If we are harboring one wrong or fearful thought, we must not let Jewel know it."
"Oh, I wish it were over! I wish the next month were over!" he replied restively.
At the dock next morning the scene was one of the usual confusion. The sailing time was drawing near and Mr. Evringham had not appeared.
Harry, with his little girl's hand in his, stood at the foot of the gang plank, peering at every newcomer and growing more anxious every moment. Jewel occupied herself in throwing kisses to her mother, who stood at the rail far above, never taking her eyes from the little figure in the blue sailor suit.