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 Library 
 
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 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924075809875 
 
CORNELL UNIVEftSITY LIBRARY 
 
 3 1924 075 809 875 
 
PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
"What did you put in this soup, Prudence?'' 
 
PRUDENCE 
 OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 ETHEL HUESTON 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 ARTHUR WILLIAM BROWN 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS 
 
 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
Copyright 1915 
 The Bobbs-Merrill Company 
 
 PRESa OF 
 
 BRAUNWORTH & CO. 
 
 BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS 
 
 BROOKLYN. N. Y. 
 
TO MY MOTHER 
 
 WHO DEVOTED HER LIFE TO REARING 
 
 A WHOLE PARSONAGE-FULL OF ROLLICKING 
 
 YOUNG METHODISTS 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I Introducing Her 1 
 
 II The Rest of the Family 27 
 
 III The Ladies' Aid 53 
 
 IV A Secret Society 79 
 
 V The Twins Stick Up for the Bible . , 108 
 
 VI An Admirer 137 
 
 VII Lessons in Etiquette 163 
 
 VIII The First Dark Shadow of Winter . . 187 
 
 IX Practising Economy 208 
 
 X A Burglar's Visit 226 
 
 XI Romance Comes 245 
 
 XII Roused from Her Slumber 272 
 
 XIII She Orders Her Life 292 
 
 XIV She Comes TO Grief 315 
 
 XV Fate Takes Charge 332 
 
PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
PRUDENCE 
 OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 INTRODUCING HER 
 
 NONE but the residents consider Mount Mark, 
 Iowa, much of a town, and those who are 
 honest among them admit, although reluctantly, 
 that Mount Mark can boast of far more patriotism 
 than good judgment 1 But the very most patriotic 
 of them all has no word of praise for the ugly little 
 red C, B. & Q. railway station. If pretty is as 
 pretty does, as we have been told so unpleasantly 
 often, then the station is handsome enough, but as 
 an ornament to the commonwealth it is a dismal 
 failure, — ^low, smoky and dust-grimed. In winter 
 its bleakness and bareness add to the chill of the 
 rigorous Iowa temperature, and in summer the sap 
 oozing through the boards is disagreeably suggest- 
 ive of perspiration. The waiting-room itself is 
 
 1 
 
2 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "cleaned" every day, and yet the same dust lies in 
 the corners where it has lain for lo, these many 
 years. And as for the cobwebs, their chief dis- 
 tinction lies in their ripe old age. If there were 
 only seven spiders in the ark, after the subsiding 
 of the waters, at least a majority of them must have 
 found their way to Mount Mark station in South- 
 eastern Iowa. 
 
 Mount Mark is anything but proud of the little 
 station. It openly scoffs at it, and sniffs contempt- 
 uously at the ticket agent who bears the entire C, B. 
 & Q. reputation upon his humble shoulders. At 
 the same time, it certainly does owe the rail- 
 road and the state a debt of gratitude for its 
 presence there. It is the favorite social rendezvous 
 for the community! Only four passenger trains 
 daily pass through Mount Mark, — ^not including 
 the expresses, which rush haughtily by with no 
 more than a scornful whistle for the sleepy town, 
 and in return for this indignity. Mount Mark cher- 
 ishes a most unchristian antipathy toward those 
 demon fliers. 
 
 But the "passengers" — ah, that is a different 
 matter. The arrival of a passenger train in Mount 
 Mark is an event — something in the nature of a 
 
INTRODUCING HER 3 
 
 C, B. & Q, "At Home," and is always attended 
 by a large Jind enthusiastic gathering of "our best 
 people." All that is lacking are the proverbial 
 "light refreshments !" 
 
 So it happened that one sultry morning, late in 
 the month of August, there was the usual flutter 
 of excitement and confusion on the platform and 
 in the waiting-room of the station. The habitues 
 were there in force. Conspicuous among them were 
 four gaily dressed young men, smoking cigarettes 
 and gazing with lack-luster eyes upon the animated 
 scene, which evidently bored them. All the same, 
 they invariably appeared at the depot to witness 
 this event, stirring to others no doubt, but incapa- 
 ble of arousing the interest of these life-weary 
 youths. They comprised the Slaughter-house 
 Quartette, and were the most familiar and notorious 
 characters in all the town. 
 
 The Daily News ref)orter, in a well-creased, light 
 gray suit and tan shoes, and with eye-glasses scien- 
 tifically balanced on his aquiline nose, was making 
 pointed inquiries into the private plans' of the trav- 
 elers. The Daily News reporters in Mount Mark 
 always wear well-creased, light gray suitg and tan 
 shoes, and always have eye-glasses scientifically bal*- 
 
4 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 anced on aquiline noses. The uninitiated can not 
 understand how it is managed, but there lies the 
 fact. Perhaps The News includes these details in 
 its requirements of applicants. Possibly it fur- 
 nishes the gray suits and the tan' shoes, and even 
 the eye-glasses. Of course, the reporters can prac- 
 tise balancing them scientifically, — but how does it- 
 happen that they always have aquiline noses? At 
 any rate, that is the Mount Mark type. It never 
 varies. 
 
 ■The young woman going to Burlington to spend 
 the week-end was surrounded with about fifteen 
 other young women who had come to " see her off." 
 She had relatives in Burlington and went there very 
 often, and she used to say she was glad she didn't 
 have to exchange Christmas presents with all the 
 ""friends" who witnessed her arrivals and departures 
 at the station. Mount Mark is a very respectable 
 town, be it understood, and girls do not go to the 
 station without an excuse ! 
 
 The Adams Express wagon was drawn close to 
 the track, and the agent was rushing about with a 
 •breathless energy which seemed all out of propor- 
 tion to his accomplishments. The telegraph opera- 
 tor was gazing earnestly out of his open window, 
 
INTRODUCING HER 5. 
 
 and his hands were busily moving papers from one 
 pigeon-hole to another, and back again. Old Har- 
 vey Reel, who drove the hotel bus, was discussing 
 politics with the man who kept the restaurant, and 
 the baggage master, superior and supremely dirty, 
 was checking baggage with his almost unendurably 
 lordly air. 
 
 This was one of the four daily rejuvenations that 
 gladdened the heart of Mount Mark. 
 
 A man in a black business suit stood alone on 
 the platform, his hands in his pockets, his eyes wan- 
 dering from one to another of the strange faces 
 about him. His plain white ready-made tie pro- 
 claimed his calling. 
 
 "It's the new Methodist preacher," volunteered 
 the baggage master, crossing the platform, ostensi- 
 bly on business bound, but really to see "who all" 
 was there. "I know him. He's not a bad sort." 
 
 "They say he's got five kids, and most of 'em 
 girls," responded the Adams Express man. "I've 
 ordered me a dress suit to pay my respects in when 
 they get here. I want to be on hand early to picfc 
 me out a girl." 
 
 "Yah," mocked the telegraph operator, bobbing 
 his head through the window, "you need to. . They 
 
6 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 tell me every girl in Mount Mark has turned you 
 down a'iready." 
 
 But the Methodist minister, gazing away dovra 
 the track where a thin curl of smoke announced the 
 coming of Number Nine, and Prudence, — heard 
 nothing of this conversation. He was not a hand- 
 some man. His hair was gray at the temples, his 
 face was earnest, only saved from severity by the 
 little clusters of lines at his eyes and mouth which 
 proclaimed that he laughed often, and with relish. 
 
 "Train going east!" 
 
 The minister stood back from the crowd, but 
 when the train came pounding in a brightness leaped 
 into his eyes that entirely changed the expression 
 of his face. A slender girl stood in the vestibule, 
 leaning dangerously outward, and waving wildly 
 at him a small gloved hand. When the train 
 stopped she leaped lightly from the steps, ignoring 
 the stool placed for her feet by the conductor. 
 
 "Father!" she cried excitedly and small and 
 slight as she was, she elbowed her way swiftly 
 through the gaping crowd. "Oh, father!" And 
 she flung her arms about him joyously, unconscious 
 Of the admiring eyes of the Adams .Express man, 
 and the telegraph operator, and old Harvey Reel^ 
 
INTRODUCING HER 7 
 
 whose eyes were always admiring when girls passed 
 by. She did not even observe that the Slaughter- 
 house Quartette looked at her unanimously, with 
 languid interest from out the wreaths of smoke they 
 had created. 
 
 Her father kissed her warmly. "Where is your 
 baggfage ?" he asked, a hand held out to relieve her. 
 
 "Here!" And with a radiant smile she thrust 
 upon him a box of candy and a gaudy-covered maga- 
 zine. 
 
 "Your suit-case," he explained patiently. 
 
 "Oh!" she gasped. "Run, father, run! I left it 
 on the train!" 
 
 Father did run, but Prudence, fleeter-footed, out- 
 distanced him and clambered on board, panting. 
 
 When she rejoined her father her face was 
 flushed. "Oh, father," she said quite snappily, 
 "isn't that just like me?" 
 
 "Yes, very like," he agreed, and he smiled. 
 "Where is your umbrella?" 
 
 Prudence stopped abruptly. "I don't know," she 
 said, with a stony face. "I can't remember a blessed 
 thing about the old umbrella. Oh, I guess I didn't 
 bring it, at all." She breathed long in her relief. 
 "Yes, that's it, father, I left it at Aunt Grace's, 
 
8 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Don't you worry about it. Fairy'll bring it to-mor- 
 row. Isn't it nice that we can count on Fairy's 
 remembering?" 
 
 "Yes, very nice," he said, but his eyes were ten- 
 der as he looked down at the little figure beside him. 
 
 "And so this is Mount Mark! Isn't it a funny 
 name, father ? Why do they call it Mount Mark ?" 
 
 "I don't know. I hadn't thought to inquire. We 
 turn here, Prudence ; we are going north now. This 
 is Main Street. The city part of the town — ^thtf 
 business part — is to the south." 
 
 "It's a pretty street, isn't it?" she cried. "Such 
 nice big maples, and such shady, porchy houses. I 
 love houses with porches, don't you? Has the par- 
 sonage a porch?" 
 
 "Yes, a big one on the south, and a tiny one in 
 front. The house faces west. That is the college 
 there. It opens in three weeks, and Fairy can make 
 freshmen all right, they tell me. I wish you could 
 go, too. You haven't had your share of anything 
 — any good thing. Prudence." 
 
 "Well, I have my share of you, father," she said 
 comfortingly. "And I've always had my share 
 of oatmeal and sorghum molasses, — though one 
 wouldn't think it to look at me. Fairy gained & 
 
INTRODUCING HER 9 
 
 whole inch last week at Aunt Grace's. She was so 
 disgusted with herself. She says she'll not be able 
 to look back on the visit with any pleasure at all, 
 just because of that inch. Carol said she ought to 
 look back with more pleasure, because there's an 
 inch more of her to do it! But Fairy says she did 
 not gain the inch in her eyes ! Aunt Grace laughed 
 every minute we were there. She says she is all 
 sore up and down, from laughing so much." 
 
 "We have the house fixed up pretty well. Pru- 
 dence, but of course you'll have to go over it your- 
 self and arrange it as you like. But remember this : 
 You are not allowed to move the heavy furniture. 
 I forbid it emphatically. There isn't enough of you 
 for that." 
 
 "Yes, I'll remember, — I think I will. I'm almost 
 certain to remember some things, you know." 
 
 "I must go to a trustees' meeting at two o'clock, 
 but we can get a good deal done before then. Mrs. 
 Adams is coming to help you this afternoon. She 
 is one of our Ladies, and very kind. There, that 
 is the parsonage!" 
 
 Prudence gazed in silence. Many would not have 
 considered it a beautiful dwelling, but to Prudence 
 it was heavenly. Fortunately the wide, grassy, 
 
10 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 shaded lawn greeted one first. Great spreading 
 maples bordered the street, and clustering rose- 
 bushes lined the walk leading up to the house. The 
 walk was badly worn and broken to be sure, — ^but 
 the roses were lovely! The grass had been care- 
 fully cut, — ^the father-minister had seen to that. The 
 parsonage, to Prudence's gratified eyes, looked 
 homey, and big, and inviting. In fact, it was very 
 nearly gorgeous! It needed painting badly, it is 
 true. The original color had been a peculiar drab, 
 but most of it had disappeared long before, so it 
 was no eyesore on account of the color. There 
 were many windows, and the well-known lace cur- 
 tains looked down upon Prudence tripping happily 
 up the little board walk, — or so it seemed to her. 
 
 "Two whole stories, and an attic besides! Not 
 to mention the bathroom! Oh, father, the night 
 after you wrote there was a bathroom, Constance 
 thanked God for it when she said her prayers. And 
 I couldn't reprove her, for I felt the same way 
 about it myself. It'll be so splendid to have a 
 whole tub to bathe in ! I spent half the time bath- 
 ing this last week at Aunt Grace's. A tub is so 
 bountiful! A pan is awfully insufficient, father, 
 even for me ! I often think what ^ trouble it must 
 
INTRODUCING HER ii 
 
 be to Fairy! And a furnace, too! And electric 
 lights! Don't you think there is something awe- 
 inspiring in the idea of just turning a little knob 
 on the wall, and flooding a whole room with light? 
 I do revel in electric lights, I tell you. Oh, we have 
 waited a long time for it, and we've been very pa- 
 tient indeed, but, between you and me, father, I am 
 most mightily glad we've hit the luxury-land at last. 
 I'm sure we'll all feel much more religious in a 
 parsonagfe that has a bathroom and electric lights! 
 Oh, father!" 
 
 lie had thrown open the door, and Prudence 
 stood upon the threshold of her new home. It was 
 iffit a fashionable building, by any means. The hall 
 W?s narrow and long, and the staircase was just a 
 plain businesslike staircase, with no room for cush- 
 jpns, and flowers, and books. The doors leading 
 from the hall were, open, and Prudence caught a 
 glimpse of three rooms furnished, rather scantily, 
 in the old familiar furniture that had been in that 
 other parsonage where Prudence was born, nineteen 
 years before. 
 
 Together she and her father went from room to 
 room, up-stairs and down, moving a table to the left, 
 a bed to the right, — according to her own good 
 
12 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 pleasure. Afterward they had a cozy luncheon for 
 two in the "dining-room." 
 
 "Oh, it is so elegant to have a dining-room," 
 breathed Prudence happily. "I always pretended 
 it was rather fun, and a great saving of work, to 
 eat and cook and study and live in one room, but 
 inwardly the idea always outraged me. Is that the 
 school over there?" 
 
 "Yes, that's where Connie will go. There is pnly 
 one high school in Mount Mark, so the twins will 
 have to go to the other side of town, — a long walk, 
 but in good weather they can come home ior divt 
 ner. — I'm afraid the kitchen will be too cold i in 
 winter. Prudence,- — it's hardly more than a shed, 
 really. Maybe we'd " 
 
 "Oh, father, if you love me, don't suggest thstt 
 we move the stove in here in winter ! I'm perfectly 
 willing to freeze out there, for the sake of having a 
 dining-room. Did I ever tell you what Carol said 
 about that kitchen-dining-room-living-room combi- 
 nation at Exminster? Well, she asked us a riddle, 
 'When is a dining-room not a dining-room?' And 
 she answered it herself, 'When it's a little pig-pen.' 
 And I felt so badly about it, but it did look like a 
 pig-pen, with stove here, and cupboard there, and 
 
INTRODUCING HER 13 
 
 table yonder, and — oh, no, father, please let me 
 freeze !" 
 
 "I confess I do not see the connection between 
 a roomful of furniture and a pig-pen, but Carol's 
 wit is often too subtle for me." 
 
 "Oh, that's a lovely place over there, father!" 
 exclaimed Prudence, looking from the living-room 
 windows toward the south. "Isn't it beautiful?" 
 
 "Yes. The Avery family lives there. The par- 
 ents are very old and feeble, and the daughters are 
 all — elderly — and all school-teachers. There are 
 four of them, and the youngest is forty-six. It is 
 certainly a beautiful place. See the orchard out be- 
 hind, and the vineyard. They are very wealthy, and 
 they are not fond of children outside of school 
 hours, I am told, so we must keep an eye on Con- 
 nie,^Dear me, it is two o'clock already, and I must 
 go at once. Mrs. Adams will be here in a few 
 minutes, and you will not be lonely." 
 
 But when Mrs. Adams arrived at the parsonage, 
 she knocked repeatedly, and in vain, upon the front 
 door. After that she went to the side door, with 
 no better result. Finally, she gathered her robes 
 about her and went into the back yard. She peered 
 into the woodshed, and saw no one. She went into 
 
14 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 the barn-lot, and found it empty. In despair, she 
 plunged into the barn — and stopped abruptly. 
 
 In a shadowy corner was a slender figure kneel- 
 ing beside an overturned nail keg, her face buried 
 in her hands. Evidently this was Prudence engaged 
 in prayer, — and in the barn, of all places in the 
 world! 
 
 "A — a — a — hem!" stammered Mrs. Adams in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 "Amen!" This was spoken aloud and hurriedly, 
 and Prudence leaped to her feet. Her fair hair 
 clung about her face in damp babyish tendrils, and 
 her face was flushed and dusty, but alight with 
 friendly interest. She ran forward eagerly, thrust- 
 ing forth a slim and grimy hand. 
 
 "You are Mrs. Adams, aren't you? I am Pru- 
 dence Starr. It is so kind of you to come the very 
 first day," she cried. "It makes me love you right 
 at the start." 
 
 "Ye — yes, I am Mrs. Adams." Mrs. Adams was 
 embarrassed. She could not banish from her men- 
 tal vision that kneeling figure by the nail keg. In- 
 terrogation was written all over her ample face, and 
 Prudence promptly read it and hastened to reply. 
 
 "I do not generally say my praj^ers in the barn, 
 
INTRODUCING HER 15 
 
 Mrs. Adams, I assure you. I suppose you were 
 greatly surprised. I didn't expect to do it myself, 
 when I came out here, but — ^well, when I fdund this 
 grand, old, rambling barn, I was so thankful I 
 couldn't resist praying about it. Of course, I didn't 
 specially designate the barn, but God knew what I 
 meant, I am sure." 
 
 "But a barn!" ejaculated the perplexed "mem- 
 ber." "Do you call that a blessing?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed I do," declared Prudence. Then 
 she explained patiently: "Oh, it is on the children's 
 account, you know. They have always longed for 
 a big romantic barn to play in. We've never had 
 anything but a shed, and when father went to Con- 
 ference this year, the twins told him particularly to 
 look out for a good big bam. They said we'd be 
 willing to put up with any kind of a parsonage, if 
 only we might draw a barn for once. You can't 
 imagine how happy this dear old place will make 
 them, and I was happy on their account. That's 
 why I couldn't resist saying my prayers, — I was 
 so happy I couldn't hold in." 
 
 As they walked slowly toward the house, Mrs. 
 Adams looked at this parsonage girl in frank curi- 
 osity and some dismay, which she strongly cndeav- 
 
16 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 ored to conceal from the bright-eyed Prudence. The 
 Ladies had said it would be so nice to have a grown 
 girl in the parsonage ! Prudence was nineteen from 
 all account, but she looked like a child and — ^well, 
 it was not exactly grown-up to give thanks for a 
 barn, to say the very least ! Yet this girl had full 
 charge of four younger children, and was further 
 burdened with the entire care of a minister-father! 
 Well, well! Mrs. Adams sighed a little. 
 
 "You are tired," said Prudence sympathetically. 
 "It's so hot walking, isn't it ? Let's sit on the porch 
 until you are nicely rested. Isn't this a lovely yard ? 
 And the children will be so happy to have this de- 
 licious big porch. Oh, I just adore Mount Mark 
 already." 
 
 "This is a fine chance for us to get acquainted," 
 said the good woman with eagerness. 
 
 Now if the truth must be told, there had been 
 some ill feeling in the Ladies' Aid Society concern- 
 ing the reception of Prudence. After the session 
 of Conference, when the Reverend Mr. Starr 
 was assigned to Mount Mark, the Ladies of the 
 church had felt great interest in the man and his 
 family. They inquired on every hand, and learned 
 several interesting items. The mother had been 
 
INTRODUCING HER 17 
 
 taken from the family five years before, after a long 
 illness, and Prudence, the eldest daughter, had taken 
 charge of the household. There were five children. 
 So much was known, and being women> they looked 
 forward with eager curiosity to the coming of Pru- 
 dence, the young mistress of the parsonage. 
 
 Mr. Starr had arrived at Mount Mark a week 
 ahead of his family. The furniture had been shipped 
 from his previous charge, and he, with the assist- 
 ance of a strong and willing negro, had "placed it" 
 according to the written instructions of Prudence, 
 who had conscientiously outlined just what should 
 go in every room. She and the other children had 
 spent the week visiting at the home of their aunt, 
 and Prudence had come on a day in advance of the 
 others to "wind everything up," as she had ex- 
 pressed it. 
 
 But to return to the Ladies, — ^the parsonage girls 
 always capitalized the Ladies of their father's 
 church, and indeed italicized them, as well. And the 
 irrepressible Carol had been heard to remark, "I 
 often feel like exclamation-pointing them, I prom- 
 ise you." But to return once more. 
 
 "One of us should go and help the dear child," 
 said Mrs. Scott, the president of the Aids, when 
 
18 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 they assembled for their business meeting, "help 
 her, and welcome her, and advise her." 
 
 "I was thinking of going over," said one, and 
 another, and several others. 
 
 "Oh, that will not do at all," said the president; 
 "she would be excited meeting so many strangers, 
 and could not properly attend to her work. That 
 will never do, never, never! But one of us must 
 go, of course." 
 
 "I move that the president appoint a committee 
 of one to help Miss Prudence get settled, and wel- 
 come her to our midst," said Mrs. Barnaby, secretly 
 hoping that in respect for her making this sugges- 
 tion honoring the president, ' the president would 
 have appreciation enough to appoint Mrs. Bamaby 
 herself as committee. 
 
 The motion was seconded, and carried. 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Scott slowly, "I think in a case 
 like this the president herself should represent the 
 society. Therefore, I will undertake this duty for 
 you." 
 
 But this called forth a storm of protest and it 
 became so clamorous that it was unofficially decided 
 to draw cuts I Which was done, and in consequence 
 of that drawing of cuts, Mrs. Adams how sat on 
 
INTRODUCING HER 19 
 
 the front porch of the old gray parsonage, cheered 
 by the knowledge that every other Lady of the Aid 
 was envying her! 
 
 "Now, just be real sociable and tell me all about 
 yourself, and the others, too," urged Mrs. Adams. 
 "I want to know all about every one of you. Tell 
 me everything." 
 
 "There isn't much to tell," said Prudence, smiling. 
 "There are five of us; I am the oldest, I am nine- 
 teen. Then comes Fairy, then the twins, and then 
 the baby." 
 
 "Are the twins boys, or a boy and a girl ?" 
 
 "Neither," said Prudence, "they are both girls." 
 
 "More girls!" gasped Mrs. Adams. "And the 
 baby?" 
 
 "She is a girl, too." And Prudence laughed. 
 "In short, we are all girls except father. He 
 couldn't be, of course, — or I suppose he would, for 
 our family does seem to run to girls." 
 
 "Prudence is a very nice name for a minister's 
 daughter," said Mrs. Adams suggestively. 
 
 "Yes, — for some ministers' daughters," assented 
 Prudence. "But is sadly unsuitable for me. You 
 see, father and mother were very enthusiastic about 
 the first baiby who hadn't arrived. They had two 
 
20 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 names all picked out months ahead, — Prudence and 
 John Wesley. That's how I happen to be Prudence. 
 They thought, as you do, that it was an uplifting 
 name for a parsonage baby. — I was only three years 
 old when Fairy was born, but already they realized 
 that they had made a great mistake. So they de- 
 cided to christen baby number two more appropri- 
 ately. They chose Frank and Fairy, — ^both light- 
 hearted, happy, cheerful names. — It's Fairy." Pru- 
 dence smiled reflectively. "But things went badly 
 again. They were very unlucky with their babies. 
 Fairy is Prudence by nature, and I am Fairy. She 
 is tall and a little inclined to be fat. She is steady, 
 and industrious, and reliable, and sensible, and 
 clever. In fact, she is an all-round solid and worth- 
 while girl. She can do anything, and do it right, 
 and is going to be a college professor. It is a sad 
 thing to think of a college professor being called 
 Fairy all her life, isn't it? Especially when she is 
 so dignified and grand. But one simply can't tell 
 beforehand what to expect, can one? 
 
 "Father and mother were quite discouraged by 
 that time. They hardly knew what to do. But any- 
 how they were sure the next would be a boy. Every 
 one predicted a boy, and so they chose a good old 
 
INTRODUCING HER 21 
 
 Methodist name, — Charles. They hated to give it 
 John Wesley, for they had sort of dedicated that to 
 me, you know, — only I happened to be Prudence. 
 But Charles was second-best. And they were very 
 happy about it, and — it was twin girls ! It was quite 
 a blow, I guess. But they rallied swiftly, and called 
 them Carol and Lark. Such nice musical names! 
 Father and mother were both good singers, and 
 mother a splendid pianist. And Fairy and I showed 
 musical symptoms early in life, so they thought they 
 couldn't be far wrong that time. It was a bitter 
 mistake. It seemed to turn the twins against music 
 right from the start. Carol can carry a tune if 
 there's a strong voice beside her, but Lark can 
 hardly tell the difference between Star Span- 
 gled Banner and Rock of Ages. 
 
 "The neighbors were kind of amused by then, and 
 mother was very sensitive about it. So the next 
 time she determined to get ahead of Fate. 'No more 
 nonsense, now,' said mother. 'It's almost certain to 
 be a boy, and we'll call him William after father, — < 
 and Billy for short.' We all liked the name Billy, 
 mother especially. But she couldn't call father any- 
 thing but William, — we being parsonage people, you 
 know. But she kept looking forward to little 
 
22 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Billy, — and then they changed it in a hurry to Con- 
 stance. And after that, father and mother gave the 
 whole thing up as a bad job. There aren't any 
 more of us. Connie settled the baby business in 
 our family." 
 
 Mrs. Adams wiped her eyes, and leaned weakly 
 back in her chair, gasping for breath. "Well, I 
 swan!" was all she could say at that moment. 
 
 While giving herself time to recover her mental 
 poise she looked critically at this young daughter' of 
 the parsonage. Then her eyes wandered down to 
 her clothes, and lingered, in silent questioning, on 
 Prudence's dress. It was a very peculiar color. In 
 fact, it was no color at all, — no named color. Pru- 
 dence's eyes had followed Mrs. Adams' glance, and 
 she spoke frankly. 
 
 "I suppose you're wondering if this dress is any 
 color! Well, I think it really is, but it isn't any of 
 the regular shades. It is my own invention, but I've 
 never named it. We couldn't think of anything 
 appropriate. Carol suggested 'Prudence Shade,' 
 but I couldn't bring myself to accept that. Of 
 course, Mrs. Adams, you understand how parson- 
 age people do with clothes, — ^handing them down 
 from generation unto generation. Well, I didn't 
 
INTRODUCING HER 23 
 
 mind it at first, — when I was the biggest. But all 
 of a sudden Fairy grew up and out and around, and 
 one day when I was so nearly out of clothes I hardly 
 felt that I could attend church any more, she sug- 
 gested that I cut an old one of hers down for me! 
 At first I laughed, and then I was insulted. Fairy 
 is three years younger than I, and before then she 
 had got my handed-downs. But now the tables 
 were turned. From that time on, whenever any- 
 thing happened to Fairy's clothes so a gore had to 
 be cut out, or the bottom taken off, — ^they were cut 
 down for me. I still feel bitter about it. Fairy is 
 dark, and dark blues are becoming to her. She 
 handed down this dress, — it was dark blue then. 
 But I was not wanting a dark blue, and I thought it 
 would be less recognizable if I gave it a contrast- 
 ing color. I chose lavender. I dyed it four times, 
 and this was the result." 
 
 "Do the twins dress alike ?" inquired Mrs. Adams, 
 when she could control her voice. 
 
 "Yes, — unfortunately for Connie. They do it on 
 purpose to escape the handed-downs I They won't 
 even have hair ribbons different. And the result 
 is that poor Connie never gets one new thing except 
 shoes. She says she can not help thanking the Lxjrd 
 
24 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 in her prayers, that all of us outwear our shoes 
 before we can outgrow them. — Connie is only nine. 
 Fairy is sixteen, and the twins are thirteen. They 
 are a very clever lot of girls. Fairy, as I told you, 
 is just naturally smart, and aims to be a college 
 professor. Lark is an intelligent studious girl, and 
 is going to be an author. Carol is pretty, and 
 lovable, and kind-hearted, and witty, — ^but not deep. 
 She is going to be a Red Cross nurse and go to 
 war. The twins have it all planned out. Carol is 
 going to war as a Red Cross nurse, and Lark is go- 
 ing, too, so she can write a book about it, and they 
 are both going to marry soldiers, — ^preferably dash- 
 ing young generals ! Now they can hardly wait for 
 war to break out. Connie is a sober, odd, sensitive 
 little thing, and hasn't decided whether she wants 
 to be a foreign missionary, or get married and have 
 ten children. — But they are all clever, and I'm proud 
 of every one of them." 
 
 "And what are you going to be?" inquired Mrs. 
 Adams, looking with real affection at the bright 
 sweet face. 
 
 But Prudence laughed. "Oh, dear me, Mrs. 
 Adams, seems to me if I just get the others raised 
 up properly, I'll have my hands full. I used %o 
 
INTROZiUCING HER 25 
 
 have aims, dozens of them. Now I have just one, 
 and Tm working at it every day." 
 
 "You ought to go to school," declared Mrs. 
 Adams. "You're just a girl yourself." 
 
 "I don't want to go to school," laughed Prudence. 
 "Not any more. I like it, just taking care of father 
 and the girls, — with Fairy to keep me balanced ! I 
 read, but I do not like to study. — No, you'll have 
 to get along with me just the way I am, Mrs. Adams. 
 It's all I can do to keep things going now, without 
 spending half the time dreaming of big things to 
 do in the future." 
 
 "Don't you have dreams?" gasped Mrs. Adams. 
 "Don't you have dreams of the future? Girls in 
 books nowadays dream " 
 
 "Yes, I dream," interrupted Prudence, "I dream 
 lots, — ^but it's mostly of what Fairy and the others 
 will do when I get them properly raised. You'll 
 like the girls, Mrs. Adams, I know you will. They 
 really are a gifted little bunch, — except me. But I 
 don't mind. It's a great honor for me to have the 
 privilege of bringing up four clever girls to do great 
 things, — don't you think? And I'm only nineteen 
 myself ! I don't see what more a body could want." 
 
 "It seems to me," said Mrs. Adams, "that I know 
 
26 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 more about your sisters than I do about you. I 
 feel more acquainted with them right now, than 
 with you." 
 
 "That's so, too," said Prudence, nodding. "But 
 they are the ones that really count, you know. 
 I'm just common little Prudence of the Parsonage, — 
 but the others !" And Prudence flung out her hands 
 dramatically. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE REST OF THE FAMILY 
 
 IT was Saturday morning when the four young 
 parsonage girls arrived in Mount Mark. The 
 elderly Misses Avery, next door, looked out of their 
 windows, pending their appearance on Maift Street, 
 with interest and concern. It was a serious matter, 
 this having a whole parsonage-full of young girls 
 8o close to the old Avery mansion. To be sure, the 
 Averys had a deep and profound respect for minis- 
 terial households, but they were Episcopalians them- 
 selves, and in all their long lives they had never so 
 much as heard of a widower-rector with five daugh- 
 ters, and no housekeeper. There was something 
 blood-curdling in the bare idea. 
 
 The Misses Avery considered Prudence herself 
 rather a. sweet, silly little thing. 
 
 "You have some real nice people in the Metho- 
 dist church," Miss Dora had told her. "I dare say 
 you will find a few of them very likeable." 
 
 27. 
 
28 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Oh, I will like them all," said Prudence quickly 
 and seriously. 
 
 "Like them all !" echoed Miss Dora. "Oh, impos- 
 sible!" 
 
 "Not for us," said Prudence. "We are used to 
 it, you know. We alwaj^s like people." 
 
 "That is ridiculous," said Miss Dora. "It is ab- 
 solutely impossible. One can't! Of course, as 
 Christians, we must tolerate, and try to help every 
 
 If 
 
 one. But Christian folerance and love are " 
 
 "Oh, excuse me, but — really I can't believe there 
 is such a thing as Christian tolerance," said Pru- 
 dence firmly. "There is Christian love, and — that 
 is all we need." Then leaning forward: "What do 
 you do. Miss Avery, when you meet people you dis- 
 like at very first sight?" 
 
 "Keep away from them," was the grim reply. 
 "Exactly! And keep on disliking them," said 
 Prudence triumphantly. "It's very different with 
 us. When we dislike people at first sight, we visit 
 them, and talk to them, and invite them to the par- 
 sonage, and entertain them with our best linen and 
 silverware, and keep on getting friendlier and friend- 
 lier, and — first thing you know, we like them fine ! 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 29 
 
 It's a perfectly splendid rule, and it has never failed 
 us once. Try it, Miss Avery, do! You will be 
 enthusiastic about it, I know." 
 
 So the Misses Avery concluded that Prudence 
 was very young, and couldn't seem to quite outgrow 
 it! She was not entirely responsible. And they 
 wondered, with something akin to an agony of 
 fear, if the younger girls "had it, too !" Therefore 
 the Misses Avery kept watch at their respective 
 windows, and when Miss Alice cried excitedly, 
 "Quick! Quicli! They are coming!" they trooped 
 to Miss Alice's window with a speed that would 
 have done credit to the parsonage girls themselves. 
 
 First came the minister, whom they knew very 
 well by this time, and considered quite respect- 
 able. He was lively, as was to be expected 
 of a Methodist minister, and told jokes, and laughed 
 at them! Now, a comical rector, — oh, a very dif- 
 ferent matter, — it wasn't done, that's all! At any 
 rate, here came the Methodist minister, laughing, 
 and on one side of him tripped a small earnest- 
 looking maiden, clasping his hand, and gazing alter- 
 nately up into his face, and down at the stylish 
 cement sidewalk beneath her feet. On the other 
 
30 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 side, was Fairy. The Misses Av6ry knew the girls 
 by name already, — having talked much with Pru- 
 dence. 
 
 "Such a Fairy!" gasped Miss Millicent, and the 
 others echoed the gasp, but wordlessly. 
 
 For Fairy for very nearly as tall as her father, 
 built upon generous lines, rather commanding in 
 appearance, a little splendid-looking. Even from 
 their windows they could discern something dis- 
 tinctly Juno-like in this sixteen-year-old girl, with 
 the easy elastic stride that matched her father's, and 
 the graceful head, well carried. A young god- 
 dess, — named Fairy! 
 
 Behind them, laughing and chattering, like three 
 children, as they were, — came the twins with Pru- 
 dence, each with an arm around her waist. And 
 Prudence was very little taller than they. When 
 they reached the fence that bordered the parsonage, 
 the scene for a moment resembled a miniature riot. 
 The smaller girls jumped and exclaimed, and 
 clasped their hands. Fairy leaned over the fence, 
 and stared intently at this, their parsonage home. 
 Then the serious little girl scrambled under the 
 fence, followed closely by the lithe-limbed twins. 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 31 
 
 A pause, a very short one, — and then Prudence, 
 too, was wriggling beneath the fence. 
 
 "Hold the wire up for me, papa," cried Fairy, 
 "I'm too fat." And a second later she was running 
 gracefully across the lawn towar(i the parsonage. 
 The Methodist minister laughed boyishly, and plac- 
 ing his hands on the fence-post, he vaulted lightly 
 over, and reached the house with his daughters. 
 Then the Misses Avery, school-teachers, and eld- 
 erly, looked at one another. 
 
 "Did you ever?" whispered the oldest Miss 
 Avery, and the others slowly shook their heads. 
 
 Now, think ! Did you ever see a rector jumping 
 a three-wire fence, and running full speed across 
 his front yard, in pursuit of a flying family? It 
 may possibly have occurred, — we have never seen 
 it. Neither had the Misses Avery. Nor did they 
 ever expect to. And if they had seen it, it is quite 
 likely they would have joined the backsliders at that 
 instant. 
 
 But without wasting much time on this gruesome 
 thought, they hurried to a window commanding the 
 best view of the parsonage, and raised it. Then 
 they clustered behind the curtains, and watched, 
 
32 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 and listened. There was plenty to hear! From 
 the parsonage windows came the sound of scamper- 
 ing feet and banging doors. Once there was the 
 unmistakable clatter of a chair overturned. With 
 it all, there was a constant chorus of "Oh, look !" 
 "Oh! Oh!" "Oh, how sweet!" "Oh, papa!" 
 "Oh, Prudence !" "Look, Larkie, look at this !" 
 
 Then the thud of many feet speeding down the 
 stairs, and the slam of a door, and the slam of a 
 gate. The whole parsonage-full had poured out into 
 the back yard, and the barn-lot. Into the chicken 
 coop they raced, the minister ever close upon their 
 heels. Over the board fence they clambered to the 
 big rambling barn, and the wide door swung closed 
 after them. But in a few seconds they were out 
 once more, by the back barn door, and over the 
 fence, and on to the "field." There they closed 
 ranks, with their arms recklessly around whoever 
 was nearest, and made a thorough tour of the bit 
 of pasture-land. For some moments they leaned 
 upon the dividing fence and gazed admiringly into 
 the rich orchard and vineyard of the Avery estate. 
 But soon they were skipping back to the parsonage 
 again, and the kitchen door banged behind them. 
 
 Then the eldest Miss Avery closed the window 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 33 
 
 overlooking the parsonage and confronted her sis- 
 ters. 
 
 "We must just make the best of it," she said 
 quietly. 
 
 But next door, the gray old ugly parsonage was 
 full to overflowing with satisfaction and happiness 
 and love. 
 
 The Starrs had never had an appointment like this 
 before. They had just come from the village of 
 Exminster, of five hundred inhabitants. There the 
 Reverend Mr. Starr had filled the pulpits of three 
 small Methodist churches, scattered at random 
 throughout the country, — consideration, five hun- 
 dred dollars. But here, — why, Mount Mark had a 
 population of fully three thousand, and a business 
 academy, and the Presbyterian College, — small, to 
 be sure, but the name had a grand and inspiring 
 soimd. And Mr. Starr had to fill only one pulpit ! It 
 was heavenly, that's what it was. To be sure, many 
 of his people lived out in the country, necessitating 
 the upkeep of a horse for the sake of his pastoral 
 work, but that was only an advantage. Also to be 
 sure, the Methodists in Mount Mark were in a mi- 
 nority, and an inferiority, — ^Mount Mark being a 
 Presbyterian stronghold due to the homing there of 
 
34 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 the trim and orderly little college. But what of 
 that? The salary was six hundred and fifty dollars 
 and the parsonage was adorable! The parsonage 
 family could see nothing at all wrong with the 
 world that day, and the future was rainbow-tinted. 
 
 Every one has experienced the ecstatic creepy 
 sensation of sleeping in a brand-new home. The 
 parsonage girls reveled in the memory of that first 
 night fdr many days. "It may be haunted for all we 
 know," cried Carol deliciously. "Just think, Con- 
 nie, there may be seven ghosts camped on the 
 head of your bed, waiting " 
 
 "Carol!" 
 
 When the family gathered for worship on that 
 first Sabbath morning, Mr. Starr said, as he turned 
 the leaves of his well-worn Bible, "I think it would 
 be well for you girls to help with the morning 
 worship now. You need practise in praying aloud, 
 and^so we will begin to-day. Connie and I will 
 make the prayers this morning, Prudence and Carol 
 to-morrow, and Fairy and Lark the next day. We 
 will keep that system up for a while, anyhow. When 
 I finish reading the chapter, Connie, you will make 
 the first prayer. Just pray for whatever you wish 
 as you do at night for yourself. I will follow you." 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY ' 33 
 
 Connie's eyes were wide with responsibility dur- 
 ing the reading of the chapter, but when she began 
 to speak her voice did not falter. Connie had nine 
 years of good Methodist experience back of her ! 
 
 "Our Father, who art in Heaven, we bow our- 
 selves before Thy footstool in humiUty and rever- 
 ence. Thou art our God, our Creator, our Saviour. 
 Bless us this day, and cause Thy face to shine upon 
 us. Blot out our transgressions, pardon our tres- 
 passes. Wash us, that we may be whiter than 
 snow. Hide not Thy face from the eyes of Thy 
 children, turn not upon us in wrath. Pity us. Lord, 
 as we kneel here prostrate before Thy majesty and 
 glory. Let the words of our mouths and the medi- 
 tations of our hearts, be acceptable in Thy sight, 
 O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer. And 
 finally save us, an unbroken family around 
 Thy throne in Heaven, for Jesus' sake. Amen." 
 
 This was followed by an electric silence. Pru- 
 dence was biting her lips painfully, and counting 
 by tens as fast as she could. Fairy was mentally 
 going over the prayer, sentence by sentence, and 
 attributing each petition to the individual member 
 in the old church at Exminster to whom it belonged. 
 The twins were a little amazed, and quite proud. 
 
36 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Connie was an honor to the parsonage, — ^but they 
 were concerned lest they themselves should do not 
 quite so well when their days came. 
 
 But in less than a moment the minister-father 
 began his prayer. His voice was a little subdued, 
 and he prayed with less fervor and abandon than 
 usual, but otherwise things went off quite nicely. 
 When he said, "Amdn," Prudence was on her feet 
 and half-way up-stairs before the others were fairly 
 risen. Fairy stood gazing intently out of the win- 
 dow for a moment, and then went out to the barn 
 to see if the horse was through eating. Mr. Starr 
 walked gravely and soberly out the front door, 
 and around the house. He ran into Fairy coming 
 out the kitchen door, and they glanced quickly 
 at each other. 
 
 "Hurry, papa," she whispered, "you can't hold in 
 much longer ! Neither can I !" 
 
 And together, choking with laughter, they hur- 
 ried into the barn and gave full vent to their feel- 
 ings. 
 
 So it was that the twins and Connie were alone 
 for a while. 
 
 "You did a pretty good job, Connie," said Carol 
 approvingly. 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 37 
 
 "Yes. I think I did myself," was the complacent 
 answer. "But I intended to put in, 'Keep us as 
 the apple of Thy eye, hold us in the hollow of Thy 
 hand,' and I forgot it until I had said 'Amen.' I 
 had a notion to put in a post-script, but I believe 
 that isn't done." 
 
 "Never mind," said Carol, "I'll use that in mine, 
 to-morrow." 
 
 It can not be said that this form of family wor- 
 ship was a great success. The twins were invariably 
 stereotyped, cut and dried. They thanked the Lord 
 for the beautiful morning, for kind friends, for 
 health, and family, and parsonage. Connie always 
 prayed in sentences extracted from the prayers of 
 others she had often heard, and every time with 
 nearly disastrous effect. 
 
 But the days passed around, and Prudence and 
 Carol's turn came again. Carol was a thoughtless, 
 impetuous, impulsive girl, and her prayers were as 
 nearly "verbal repetitions" as any prayers could be. 
 So on this morning, after the reading of the chap- 
 ter, Carol knelt by her chair, and began in her cus- 
 tomary solemn voice: 
 
 "Oh, our Father, we thank Thee for this beauti- 
 ful morning." Then intense silence. For Carol 
 
38 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 remembered with horror and shame that it was a 
 dreary, dismal morning, cloudy, ugly and all un- 
 lovely. In her despair, the rest of her petition scat- 
 tered to the four winds of heaven. She couldn't 
 think of another word, so she gulped, and stam- 
 mered out a faint "Amen." 
 
 But Prudence could not begin. Prudence was 
 red in the face, and nearly suffocated. She felt all 
 swollen inside, — she couldn't speak. The silence 
 continued. "Oh, why doesn't father do it?" she 
 wondered. As a matter of fact, father couldn't. 
 But Prudence did not know that. One who laughs 
 often gets in the habit of laughter, — and sometimes 
 laughs out of season, as well as in. Finally, Pru- 
 dence plunged in desperately, "Dear Father" — as 
 she usually began her sweet, intimate little talks 
 with God, — and then she paused. Before her eyes 
 flashed a picture of the "beautiful morning," for 
 which Carol had just been thankful 1 She tried 
 again. "Dear Father," — and then she whirled 
 around on the floor, and laughed. Mr. Starr got 
 up from his knees, sat down on his chair, and liter- 
 ally shook. Fairy rolled on the lounge, screaming 
 with merriment. Even sober little Connie gigg'led 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 39 
 
 and squealed. But Carol could not get up. She 
 was disgraced. She had done a horrible, disgusting, 
 idiotic thing. She had insulted God! She could 
 never face the family again. Her shoulders rose 
 and fell convulsively. 
 
 Lark did not laugh either. With a rush she was 
 on her knees beside Carol, her arms around the 
 heaving shoulders. "Don't you care, Carrie," she 
 whispered. "Don't you care. It was just a mis- 
 take, — don't cry, Carrie." 
 
 But Carol would not be comforted. She tried 
 to sneak unobserved from the room, but her father 
 stopped her. 
 
 "Don't feel so badly abotlt it, Carol," he said 
 kindly, really sorry for the stricken child, — ^though 
 his eyes still twinkled, "it was just a mistake. But 
 remember after this, my child, to speak to God when 
 you pray. Remember that you are talking to Him. 
 Then you will not make such a blunder. — So many 
 of us," he said reflectively, "ministers as well as 
 others, pray into the ears of the people, and forget 
 we are talking to God." 
 
 After that, the morning worship went better. 
 The prayers of the children changed, — became more 
 
40 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 personal, less flowery. They remembered from 
 that time on, that when they knelt they were at 
 the feet of God, and speaking direct to Him. 
 
 It was the hated duty of the twins to wash and 
 dry the dishes, — taking turns about with the wash- 
 ing_ This time was always given up to story-tell- 
 ing, for Lark had a strange and wonderful imag- 
 ination, and Carol listened to her tales with wonder 
 and delight. Even Connie found dish-doing 
 hours irresistible, and could invariably be found, 
 face in her hands, both elbows on the table, gazing 
 with passionate earnestness at the young story- 
 teller. Now, some of Lark's stories were such 
 weird and fearful things that they had seriously in- 
 terfered with Connie's slumbers, and Prudence had 
 sternly prohibited them. But this evening, just as 
 she opened the kitchen door, she heard Lark say in 
 thrilling tones : 
 
 "She crept down the stairs in the deep darkness, 
 her hand sliding lightly over the rail. Suddenly she 
 stopped. Her hand was arrested in its movement. 
 Ice-cold fingers gripped hers tightly. Then with 
 one piercing shriek, she plunged forward, and fell 
 to the bottom of the stairs with a terrific crash, 
 while a mocking laugh ■" 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 41 
 
 The kitchen door slammed sharply behind Pru- 
 dence as she stepped into the kitchen, and Connie's 
 piercing shriek would surely have rivaled that of 
 Lark's unfortunate heroine. Even Carol started 
 nervously, and let the plate she had been solemnly 
 wiping for nine minutes, fall to the floor. Lark 
 gasped, and then began sheepishly washing dishes 
 as though her life depended on it. The water was 
 cold, and little masses of grease clung to the edges 
 of the pan and floated about on the surface of the 
 water. 
 
 "Get fresh hot water. Lark, and finish the dishes. 
 Connie, go right up-stairs to bed. You twins can 
 come in to me as soon as you finish." 
 
 But Connie was afraid to go to bed alone, and 
 Prudence was obliged to accompany her. So it was 
 in their own room that the twins finally faced an 
 indignant Prudence. 
 
 "Carol, you may go right straight to bed. And 
 Lark — I dp not know what in the world to do with 
 you. Why don't you mind me, and do as I tell 
 you? How many times have I told you not to tell 
 weird stories like that? Can't you tell nice, inter- 
 iesting, mild stories?" 
 
 "Prudence, as sure as you live, I can't! I start 
 
42 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 them just as mild and proper as can be, but before I 
 get half-way through, a murder, or death, or mys* 
 tery crops in, and I can't help it" 
 
 "But you must help it, Lark. Or I shall forbid 
 your telling stories of any kind. They are so silly, 
 those wild things, and they make you all nervous, 
 and excitable, and — Now, think, Larkie, and tell 
 me how I shall punish you." 
 
 Lark applied all the resources of her wonderful 
 brain to this task, and presently suggested reluct- 
 antly: "Well, you might keep me home from the 
 ice-cream social to-morrow night." But her fac6 
 was wistful. 
 
 "No," said Prudence decidedly, to Lark's intense 
 relief. "I can't do that You've been looking for- 
 ward to it so long, and your class is to help with 
 the serving. No, not that Larkie. That would be 
 too mean. Think of something else." 
 
 "Well, — ^you might make me wash and dry the 
 dishes all alone — for a week. Prudence, and that 
 will be a bad punishment, too, for I just despise 
 washing dishes by myself. Telling stories makes 
 it so much — livelier." 
 
 "All right then," said Prudence, relieved in turn, 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 43 
 
 "that is what I will do. And Carol and Connie 
 must not even stay in the kitchen with you." 
 
 "I believe I'll go to bed now, too," said Lark, 
 with a thoughtful glance at her two sisters, already 
 curled up snugly and waiting for the conclusion of 
 the administering of justice. "If you don't mind, 
 Prudence." 
 
 Prudence smiled a bit ruefully. "Oh, I suppose 
 you might as well, if you like. But remember this, 
 Lark: No more deaths, and murders, and mys- 
 teries, and highway robberies." 
 
 "All right. Prudence," said Lark with determina- 
 tion. And as Prudence walked slowly down-stairs 
 she heard Lark starting in on her next story: 
 
 "Once there was a handsome young man, named 
 Archibald Tremaine, — a very respectable young 
 fellow. He wouldn't so much as dream of robbing, 
 or murdering, or dying." 
 
 Then Prudence smiled to herself in the dark and 
 hurried down. 
 
 The family had been in the new parsonage only 
 three weeks, when a visiting minister called on 
 them. It was about ten minutes before the lunch- 
 eon hour at the time of his arrival. Mr. Starr was 
 
44 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 in the country, visiting, so the girls received him 
 alone. It was an unfortunate day for the Starrs. 
 Fairy had been at college all morning, and Prudence 
 had been rummaging in the attic, getting it ready 
 for a rainy-day and winter playroom for the 
 younger girls. She was dusty, perspirey and tired. 
 The luncheon hour arrived, and the girls came 
 in from school, eager to be up and away again. 
 Still the grave young minister sat discoursing upon 
 serious topics with the fidgety Prudence, — ^and in 
 spite of dust and perspiration, she was good to 
 look upon. The Reverend Mr. Morgan realized 
 that, and could not tear himself away. The twins 
 came in, shook hands with him soberly, glancing 
 significantly at the clock as they did so. Connie 
 ran in excitedly, wanting to know what was the 
 matter with everybody, and weren't they to have 
 any luncheon? Still Mr. Morgan remained in his 
 chair, gazing at Prudence with frank appreciatioii. 
 Finally Prudence sighed. 
 
 "Do you like sweet corn, Mr. Morgan?" 
 This was entirely out of the line of their conver- 
 sation, and for a moment he faltered. "Sweet 
 corn?" he repeated. 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 45 
 
 "Yes, roasting-ears, you know, — cooked on the 
 cob." 
 
 Then he smiled. "Oh, yes indeed. Very much," 
 he said. 
 
 "Well," she began her explanation rather drear- 
 ily, "I was busy this morning and did not prepare 
 much luncheon. We are very fond of sweet corn, 
 and I cooked an enormous panful. But that's all 
 we have for luncheon, — sweet corn and butter. We 
 haven't even bread, because I am going to bake this 
 afternoon, and we never eat it with sweet com, any- 
 how. Now, if you care to eat sweet corn and but- 
 ter, and canned peaches, we'd just love to have you 
 stay for luncheon with us." 
 
 The Reverend Mr. Morgan was charmed, and said 
 so. So Prudence rushed to the kitchen, opened the 
 peaches in a hurry, and fished out a clean napkin 
 for their gtiest. Then they gathered about the table, 
 five girls and the visiting minister. It was really 
 a curious sight, that table. In the center stood a 
 tall vase of goldenrod. On either side of the 
 vase was a great platter piled high with sweet com, 
 on the cob ! Around the table were six plates, with 
 the necessary silverware, and a glass of water for 
 
46 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 each. There was also a small dish of peaches at 
 each place, and an individual plate of butter. That 
 was all, — except the napkins. . But Prudence made 
 no apologies. She was a daughter of the parson- 
 age! She showed the Reverend Mr. Morgan to 
 his place as graciously and sweetly as though she 
 were ushering him in to a twenty-seven course ban- 
 quet. 
 
 "Will you return thanks, Mr. Morgan?" she said. 
 
 And the girls bowed their heads. The Reverend 
 Mr. Morgan cleared his throat, and began, "Our 
 Father, we thank Thee for tliis table." 
 
 There was more of the blessing, but the parson- 
 age girls heard not one additional phrase, — except 
 Connie, who followed him conscientiously through 
 every word. By the time he had finished. Prudence 
 and Fairy, and even Lark, had composed their 
 faces. But Carol burst into merry laughter, close 
 upon his reverent "Amen," — and after one awful 
 glare at her sister, Prudence joined in. This gaiety 
 communicated itself to the others and soon it was 
 a rollicking group around the parsonage table. Mr. 
 Morgan himself smiled uncertainly. He was puz- 
 zled. More, he was embarrassed. But as soon aS 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 47 
 
 Carol could get her breath, she gasped out an ex- 
 planation. 
 
 "You were just — right, Mr. Morgan, — to give 
 thanks — for the table! There's nothing — on it — 
 to be thankful for!" 
 
 And the whole family went off once more into 
 peals of laughter. 
 
 Mr. Morgan had very little appetite that day. 
 He did not seem to be so fond of sweet corn as 
 he had assured Prudence. He talked very little, too. 
 And as soon as possible he took his hat and walked 
 hurriedly away. He did not call at the parsonage 
 again. 
 
 "Oh, Carol," said Prudence reproachfully, wip- 
 ing her eyes, "how could you start us all off like 
 that?" 
 
 "For the table, for the table!" shrieked Carol, 
 and Prudence joined in perforce. 
 
 "It was awful," she gasped, "but it was funny! 
 I believe even father would have laughed." 
 
 A few weeks after this, Carol distinguished her- 
 self again, and to her lasting mortification. The 
 parsonage pasture had been rented out during the 
 summer months before the change of ministers, the 
 
48 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 outgoing incumbent having kept neither horse nor 
 cow. As may be imagined, the little pasture had 
 been taxed to the utmost, and when the new minis- 
 ter arrived, he found that his field afforded poor 
 grazing for his pretty little Jersey. But a man liv- 
 ing only six blocks from the parsonage had gener- 
 ously offered Mr. Starr free pasturage in his broad 
 meadow, and the offer was gratefully accepted. 
 This meant that every evening the twins must walk 
 the six blocks after the cow, and every morning 
 must take her back for the day's grazing. 
 
 One evening, as they were starting out from the 
 meadow homeward with the docile animal, Carol 
 stopped and gazed at Blinkie reflectively. 
 
 "Lark," she said, "I just believe to my soul that 
 I could ride this cow. She's so gentle, and I'm such 
 a good hand at sticking on." 
 
 "Carol !" ejaculated Lark. "Think how it would 
 look for a parsonage girl to go down the street rid- 
 ing a cow." 
 
 "But there's no one to see," protested Carol. And 
 this was true. For the parsonage was near the 
 edge of town, and the girls passed only five houses 
 on their way home from the meadow, — and all of 
 them were well back from the road. And Carol 
 
THE REST OF, THE FAMILY 49 
 
 was, as she had claimed, a good hand at "sticking 
 on." She had ridden a great deal while they were 
 at Exminster, a neighbor being well supplied with 
 rideable horses, and she was passionately fond of 
 the sport. To be sure, she had never ridden a cow, 
 but she was sure it would be easy. 
 
 Lark argued and pleaded, but Carol was firm. 
 "I must try it," she insisted, "and if it doesn't go 
 well I can slide oflf. You can lead her, Lark." 
 
 The obliging Lark boosted her sister up, and 
 Carol nimbly scrambled into place, riding astride. 
 
 "I've got to ride this way," she said ; "cows have 
 such funny backs I couldn't keep on any other way. 
 If I see any one coming, I'll slide for it." 
 
 For a while all went well. Lark led Blinkie care- 
 fully, gazing about anxiously to see that no one ap- 
 proached. Carol gained confidence as they pro- 
 ceeded, and chatted with her sister nonchalantly, 
 waving her hands about to show her perfect bal- 
 ance and lack of fear. So they advanced to within 
 two blocks of the parsonage. 
 
 "It's very nice," said Carol, "very nice indeed, — 
 but her backbone is rather — well, rather penetrat- 
 ing. I think I need a saddle." 
 
 By this time, Blinkie concluded that she Was be- 
 
50 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 ing imposed upon. She shook her head violently, 
 and twitched the rope from Lark's hand, — for Lark 
 now shared her sister's confidence, and held it 
 loosely. With a little cry she tried to catch the end 
 of it, but Blinkie was too quick for her. She gave 
 a scornful toss of her dainty head, and struck out 
 madly for home. With great presence of mind, 
 Carol fell flat upon the cow's neck, and hung on for 
 dear life, while Lark, in terror, started out in pur- 
 suit 
 
 "Help! Help!" she cried lou41y. "Papa! 
 Papa! Papa!" 
 
 In this way, they turned in at the parsonage gate, 
 which happily stood open, — otherwise Blinkie would 
 undoubtedly have gone through, or over. As luck 
 would have it, Mr. Starr was standing at the door 
 with two men who had been calling on him, and 
 hearing Lark's frantic cries, they rushed to meet 
 the wild procession, and had the unique experience 
 of seeing a parsonage girl riding flat on her stomach 
 on the neck of a galloping Jersey, with another 
 parsonage girl in mad pursuit. 
 
 Blinkie stopped beside the barn, and turned her 
 head about inquiringly. Carol slid to the ground, 
 
THE REST OF THE FAMILY 51 
 
 and buried her face in her hands at sight of the 
 two men with her father. Then with never a word, 
 she Ht out for the house at top speed. Seeing 'that 
 she was not hurt, and that no harm had been done, 
 the three men sat down on the ground and burst 
 into hearty laughter. 
 
 Lark came upon them as they sat thus, and Lark 
 was angry. She stamped her foot with a violence 
 'hat must have hurt her. 
 
 "I don't see anything to laugh at," she cried pas- 
 sionately, "it was awful, it was just awful ! Carrie 
 might have been killed! It — it " 
 
 "Tell us all about it. Lark," gasped her father. 
 And Lark did so, smiling a little herself, now that 
 her fears were relieved. "Poor Carol," she said, 
 "she'll never live down the humiliation. I must go 
 and console her." 
 
 And a little later, the twins were weeping on each 
 other's shoulders. 
 
 "I wouldn't have cared," sobbed Carol, "if it had 
 been anybody else in the world! But — the presid- 
 ing elder, — and— the president of the Presbyterian 
 College! And I know the Presbyterians look down 
 on us Methodists anyhow, though they wouldn't ad- 
 
52 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 mit it ! And riding a cow ! Oh, Larkie, if you love 
 me, go down-stairs and get me the garbohc acid, 
 so I can die and be out of disgrace." 
 
 This, however, Lark stoutly refused to do, and 
 in a little while Carol felt much better. But she 
 talked it over with Prudence very seriously. 
 
 "I hope you understand, Prudence, that I shall 
 never have anything more to do with Blinkie ! She 
 can die of starvation for all I care. I'll never take 
 her to and from the pasture again. I couldn't do 
 it! Such rank ingratitude as that cow displayed 
 was never equaled, I am certain." 
 
 "I suppose you'll quit using milk and cream, 
 too," suggested Prudence. 
 
 "Oh, well," said Carol more tolerantly, "I don't 
 want to be too hard on Blinkie, for after all it was 
 partly my own fault. So I won't go that far. But 
 I must draw the line somewhere! Hereafter, 
 Blinkie and I meet as strangers !" 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE LADIES AID 
 
 <4TT'S perfectly disgusting, I admit, father," 
 
 JL said Prudence sweetly, "but you know your- 
 self that it very seldom happens. And I am sure 
 the kitchen is perfectly clean, and the soup is very 
 nice indeed, — if it is canned soup! Twins, this is 
 four slices of bread apiece for you! You see, 
 father, I really feel that this is a crisis in the life 
 of the parsonage " 
 
 "How long does a parsonage usually live?" de- 
 manded Carol. 
 
 "It wouldn't live long if the ministers had many 
 twins," said Fairy quickly. 
 
 "Ouch!" grinned Connie, plagiarizing, for that 
 expressive word belonged exclusively to the twins, 
 and it was double impertinence to apply it to one 
 of its very possessors. 
 
 "And you understand, don't you, father, that if 
 everything does not go just exactly right, I shall 
 feel I am disgraced for life? I know the Ladies 
 
 53 
 
54 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 disapprove of me, and look on me with suspicion. 
 I know they think it wicked and ridiculous to leave 
 the raising of four bright spirits in the unworthy 
 hands of a girl like me. I know they will all sniff 
 and smile and — Of course, twins, they have a per- 
 fect right to feel, and act, so. I am not complain- 
 ing. But I want to show them for once in their 
 hves that the parsonage runs smoothly and sweetly. 
 If you would just stay at home with us, father, it 
 would be a big help. You are such a tower of 
 streng^." 
 
 "But unfortunately I can not. People do not get 
 married every day in the week, and when they are 
 all ready for it they do not allow even Ladies' Aids 
 to stand in their way. It is a long drive, ten miles 
 at least, and I must start at once. And it will 
 likely be very late when I get back. But if you 
 are all good, and help Prudence, and uphold 
 the reputation of the parsonage, I will divide the 
 wedding fee with you, — share and share alike." 
 This was met with such enthusiasm that he added 
 hastily, "But wait ! It may be only a dollar !" 
 
 Then kissing the various members of the parson- 
 age family, he went out the back door, barnward. 
 
THE LADIES' AID 55 
 
 "Now," said Prudence briskly, "I want to make 
 a bargain with you, girls. If you'll stay clear away 
 from the Ladies, and be very good and orderly, 
 I'll give you all the lemonade and cake you can 
 drink afterward." 
 
 "Oh, Prudence, I'm sure I can't drink much 
 cake," cried Carol tragically, "I just can't imagine 
 myself doing it!" 
 
 "I mean, eat the cake, of course," said Prudence, 
 blushing. 
 
 "And let us make taffy after supper?" wheedled 
 Carol. 
 
 Prudence hesitated, and the three young faces 
 hardened. Then Prudence relented and hastily 
 agreed. "You won't need to appear at all, you 
 know. ,You can just stay outdoors and play as 
 though you were model children." 
 
 "Yes," said Carol tartly, "the kind the members 
 used to have, — which are all grown up, now I And 
 all moved out of Mount Mark, too!" 
 
 "Carol ! That sounds malicious, and malice isn't 
 tolerated here for a minute. Now, — oh. Fairy, did 
 you remember to dust the back of the dresser in our 
 bedroom ?" 
 
56 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Mercy! What in the world do you want the 
 back of the dresser dusted for? Do you expect the 
 Ladies to look right through it?" 
 
 "No, but some one might drop something behind 
 it, and it would have to be pulled out and they 
 would all see it. This house has got to be abso- 
 lutely spotless for once, — I am sure it will be the 
 first time." 
 
 "And the last, I hope," added Carol sepulchrally. 
 
 "We have an hour and a half yet," continued 
 Prudence. "That will give us plenty of time for 
 the last touches. Twins and Connie, you'd better 
 go right out in the field and play. I'll call you a 
 little before two, and then you must go quietly up- 
 stairs, and dress — ^just wear your plain little ging- 
 hams, the clean ones of course! Then if they do 
 catch a glimpse of you, you will be presentable. — 
 Yes, you can take some bread and sugar, but hurry." 
 
 "You may take," said Fairy. 
 
 "Yes, of course, may take is what I mean. — 
 Now hurry." 
 
 Then Prudence and Fairy set to work again in 
 good earnest. The house was already well cleaned. 
 The sandwiches were made. But there were the 
 
THE LADIES' AID 57 
 
 last "rites,*' and every detail must be religiously 
 attended to. 
 
 It must be remembered that the three main 
 down-stairs rooms of the parsonage were connected 
 by double doors, — double doors, you understand, 
 not portieres ! The front room, seldom used by the 
 parsonage family, opened on the right of the nar- 
 row hallway. Beyond it was the living-room, which 
 it must be confessed the parsonage girls only called 
 "living-room" when they were on their Sunday be- 
 havior, — ordinarily it was the sitting-room, and a 
 cheery, homey, attractive place it was, with a great 
 bay window looking out upon the stately mansion 
 of the Averys. To the left of the living-room was 
 the dining-room. The double doors between them 
 were always open. The other pair was closed, ex- 
 cept on occasions of importance. 
 
 Now, this really was a crisis in the life of the 
 parsonage family, — if not of the parsonage itself. 
 The girls had met, separately, every member of the 
 Ladies' Aid. But this was their first combined 
 movement upon the parsonage, and Prudence and 
 Fairy realized that much depended on the success 
 of the day. As girls, the whole Methodist church 
 
58 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 pronounced the young Starrs charming. But as 
 parsonage people, — ^well, they were obliged to re- 
 serve judgment. And as for Prudence having en- 
 tire charge of the household, it must be acknowl- 
 edged that every individual Lady looked forward to 
 this meeting with eagerness, — they wanted to "size 
 up" the situation. They were coming to see for 
 themselves! Yes, it was undoubtedly a crisis. 
 
 "There'll be a crowd, of course," said Fairy. 
 "We'll just leave the doors between the front rooms 
 open." 
 
 "Yes, but we'll close the dining-room doors. 
 Then we'll have the refreshments all out on the 
 table, and when we are ready we'll just fling back 
 the doors carelessly and — ^there you are !" 
 
 So the table was prettily decorated with flowers, 
 and great plates of sandwiches and cake were placed 
 upon it. In the center was an enormous punch- 
 bowl, borrowed from the Averys, full of lemonade. 
 Glasses were properly arranged on the trays, and 
 piles of nicely home-laundered napkins were scat- 
 tered here and there. The girls felt that the dining- 
 room was a credit to them, and to the Methodist 
 church entire. 
 
THE LADIES' AID S9 
 
 From every nook and corner of the house they 
 hunted out chairs and stools, anticipating, a real run 
 upon the parsonage. Nor were they disappointed. 
 The twins and Connie were not even arrayed in 
 their plain little ginghams, clean, before the first 
 arrivals were ushered up into the front bedroom, 
 ordinarily occupied by Prudence and Fairy. 
 
 "There's Mrs. Adams, and Mrs. Prentiss, and 
 
 Mrs. ," began Connie, listening intently to the 
 
 voices in the next room. 
 
 "Yes," whispered Carol, "peek through the key- 
 hole. Lark, and see if Mrs. Prentiss is looking un- 
 der the bed for dust. They say she — ■ — " 
 
 "You'd better not let Prudence catch you repeat- 
 ing " 
 
 "There's Mrs. Stone, and Mrs. Davis, and " 
 
 "They say Mrs. Davis only belongs to the La- 
 dies' Aid for the sake of the refreshments, and " 
 
 "Carol! Prudence will punish you." 
 
 "Well, I don't believe it," protested Carol. "I'm 
 just telling you what I've heard other people say." 
 
 "We aren't allowed to repeat gossip," urged 
 Lark. 
 
 "No, and I think it's a shame, too, for it's aw- 
 
60 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 fully funny. Minnie Drake told me that Miss 
 Varne joined the Methodist church as soon as she 
 heard the new minister was a widower so she •" 
 
 "Carol!" 
 
 Carol whirled around sharply, and flushed, and 
 swallowed hard. For Prudence was just behind 
 her. 
 
 "I^I — I—" but she could get no further. 
 
 Upon occasion, Prudence was quite terrible. "So 
 
 * 
 
 I heard," she said dryly, but her eyes were hard. 
 "Now run down-stairs and out to the field, or to 
 the barn, and play. And, Carol, be sure and remind 
 me of that speech to-night. I might forget it." 
 
 The girls ran quickly out, Carol well in the lead. 
 
 "No wedding fee for me," she mumbled bit- 
 terly. "Do you suppose there can be seven devils 
 in my tongue. Lark, like there are in the Bible ?" 
 
 "I don't remember there being seven devils in the 
 Bible," said Lark. 
 
 "Oh, I mean the — ^the possessed people it tells 
 about in the Bible, — crazy, I suppose it means. 
 Somehow I just can't help repeating " 
 
 "You don't want to," said Lark, not without 
 sympathy. "You think it's such fun, you know." 
 
 "Well, anyhow, I'm sure I won't get any wed- 
 
THE LADIES' AID 6i 
 
 ding fee to-night. It seems to me Prudence is very 
 — harsh sometimes." 
 
 "You can appeal to father, if you like." 
 
 "Not on your life," said Carol promptly and 
 emphatically; "he's worse than Prudence. Like 
 as not he'd give me a good thrashing into the bar- 
 gain. No, — I'm strong for Prudence when it 
 comes to punishment, — in preference to father, I 
 mean. I can't seem to be fond of any kind of 
 punishment from anybody." 
 
 For a while Carol was much depressed, but by 
 nature she was a buoyant soul and her spirits were 
 presently soaring again. 
 
 In the meantime, the Ladies of the Aid Society 
 continued to arrive. Prudence and Fairy, freshly 
 gowned and smiling-faced, received them with 
 cordiality and many merry words. It was not diffi- 
 cult for them, they had been reared in the hos- 
 pitable atmosphere of Methodist parsonages, where, 
 if you have but two dishes of oatmeal, the outsider 
 is welcome to one. That is Carol's description of 
 parsonage life. 
 
 But Prudence was concerned to observe that a, 
 big easy chair placed well back in a secluded cor- 
 i^^Xj^ s_^en?ed to be giving dissatisfg.ctiQn. It w^Si 
 
62 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Mrs. Adams who sat there first. She squirmed 
 quite a Httle, and seemed to be gripping the arms 
 of the chair with unnecessary fervor. Presently 
 she stammered an excuse, and rising, went into 
 the other room. After that, Mrs. Miller tried the 
 corner chair, and soon moved away. Then Mrs. 
 Jack, Mrs. Norey, and Mrs. Beed, in turn,, sat 
 there, — and did not stay. Prudence was quite 
 agonized. Had the awful twins filled it with nee- 
 dles for the reception of the poor Ladies? At 
 first opportunity, she hurried into the secluded cor- 
 ner, intent upon trying the chair for herself. She 
 sat down anxiously. Then she gasped, and clutched 
 frantically at the arms of the chair. For she discov- 
 ered at once to her dismay that the chair was bot- 
 tomless, and that only by hanging on for her life 
 could she keep from dropping through. She 
 thought hard for a moment, — ^but thinking did not 
 interfere with her grasp on the chair-arms, — 
 and then she realized that the wisest thing would 
 be to discuss it publicly. Anything would be better 
 than leaving it unexplained, for the Ladies to com- 
 ment upon privately. 
 
 So up rose Prudence, conscientiously pulling 
 
THE LADIES' AID 63 
 
 after her the thin cushion which had concealed 
 the chair's shortcoming. "Look, Fairy !" she cried. 
 "Did you take the bottom out of this chair? — It 
 must have been horribly uncomfortable for those 
 who have sat there! — However did it happen?" 
 
 Fairy was frankly amazed, and a little inclined 
 to be amused. 
 
 "Ask the twins," she said tersely, "I know noth- 
 ing about it." 
 
 At that moment, the luckless Carol went running 
 through the hall. Prudence knew it was she, with- 
 out seeing, because she had a peculiar skipping run 
 that was quite characteristic and unmistakable. 
 
 "Carol!" she called. 
 
 And Carol paused. 
 
 "Carol!" more imperatively. 
 
 Then Carol slowly opened the door, — she was a 
 parsonage girl and rose to the occasion. She smiled 
 winsomely, — Carol was nearly always winsome. 
 
 "How do you do?" she said brightly. "Isn't it 
 a lovely day? Did you call me, Prudence?" 
 
 "Yes. Do you know where the bottom of that 
 chair has gone?" 
 
 "Why, no. Prudence — gracious! That chair! — 
 
64 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Why, I didn't know you were going to bring that 
 chair in here. — Why, — oh, I am so sorry ! Why in 
 the world didn't you tell us beforehand?" 
 
 Some of the Ladies smiled. Others lifted their 
 brows and shoulders in a mildly suggestive way, 
 that Prudence, after nineteen years in the parson- 
 age, had learned to know and dread. 
 
 "And where is the chair-bottom now?" she in- 
 quired. "And why did you take it?" 
 
 "Why we wanted to make " 
 
 "You and Lark?" 
 
 "Well, yes, — but it was really all my fault, you 
 know. We wanted to make a seat up high in the 
 peach tree, and we couldn't find a board the right 
 shape. So she discovered — I mean, I did — that by 
 pulling out two tiny nails we could get the bottom 
 off the chair, and it was just fine. It's a perfectly 
 adorable seat," brightening, but sobering again as 
 she realized the gravity of the occasion. "And we 
 put the cushion in the chair so that it wouldn't be 
 noticed. We never use that chair, you know, and 
 we didn't think of your needing it to-day. We put 
 it away back in the cold corner of the sitting — er, 
 living-room where no one ever sjts., I'm so sorry 
 about. iC* 
 
THE LADIES' AID 65 
 
 Carol was really quite crushed, but true to her 
 parsonage training, she struggled valiantly and 
 presently brought forth a crumpled and sickly 
 smile. 
 
 But Prudence smiled at her kindly. "That wasn't 
 very naughty, Carol," she said frankly. "It's true 
 that we seldom use that chair. And we ought to 
 have looked." She glanced reproachfully at Fairy. 
 "It is strange that in dusting it, Fairy — but never 
 mind. You may go now, Carol. It is all right." 
 
 Then she apologized gently to the Ladies, and 
 the conversation went on, but Prudence was uncom- 
 fortably conscious of keen and quizzical eyes 
 turned her way. Evidently they thought she was 
 too lenient. 
 
 "Well, it wasn't very naughty," she thought 
 wretchedly. "How can I pretend it was terribly 
 bad, when I feel in my heart that it wasn't!" 
 
 Before long, the meeting was called to order, 
 and the secretary instructed to read the minutes. 
 
 "Oh," fluttered Miss Carr excitedly, "I forgot 
 to bring the book. I haven't been secretary very 
 long, you know." 
 
 "Only six months," interrupted Mrs. Adams 
 tartly. 
 
66 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "How do you expect to keep to-day's minutes?" 
 demanded the president. 
 
 "Oh, I am sure Miss Prudence will give me a 
 pencil and paper, and I'll copy them in the book as 
 soon as ever I get home." 
 
 "Yes, indeed," said Prudence. "There is a tab- 
 let on that table beside you, and pencils, too. I 
 thought we might need them." 
 
 Then the president made a few remarks, but 
 while she talked. Miss Carr was excitedly opening 
 the tablet. Miss Carr was always excited, and 
 always fluttering, and always giggling girlishly. 
 Carol called her a sweet old simpering soul, and 
 so she was. But now, right in the midst of the 
 president's serious remarks, she quite giggled out. 
 
 The president stared at her in amazement. The 
 Ladies looked up curiously. Miss Carr was bend- 
 ing low over the tablet, and laughing gaily to her- 
 self. 
 
 "Oh, this is very cute," she said. "Who wrote 
 it? Oh, it is just real cunning." 
 
 Fairy sprang up, suddenly scarlet. "Oh, per- 
 haps you have one of the twins' books, and they're 
 always scribbling and — — " 
 
THE LADIES' AID 67 
 
 "No, it is yours, Fairy. I got it from among your 
 school-books." 
 
 Fairy sank back, intensely mortified, and Miss 
 Carr chirped brightly: 
 
 "Oh, Fairy, dear, did you write this little poem? 
 How perfectly sweet! And what a queer, senti- 
 mental little creature you are. I never dreamed 
 you were so romantic. Mayn't I read it aloud?" 
 
 Fairy was speechless, but the Ladies, including 
 the president, were impatiently waiting. So Miss 
 Carr began reading in a sentimental, dreamy voice 
 that must have been very fetching fifty years be- 
 fore. At the first suggestion of poetry, Prudence 
 sat up with conscious pride, — Fairy was so clever! 
 But before Miss Carr had finished the second verse, 
 she too was literally drowned in humiliation. 
 
 "My love rode out of the glooming night. 
 Into the glare of the morning light. 
 My love rode out of the dim unknown. 
 Into my heart to claim his own. 
 My love rode out of the yesterday, 
 Into the now, — and he came to stay. 
 Oh, love that is rich, and pure, and true, 
 The love in my heart leaps out to you. 
 Oh, love, at last you have found your part, — < 
 To come and dwell in my empty heart." 
 
68 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Miss Carr sat down, giggling delightedly, and 
 the younger Ladies laughed, and the older Ladies 
 smiled. 
 
 But Mrs. Prentiss turned to Fairy gravely. "How 
 old are you, my dear?" 
 
 And with a too-apparent effort. Fairy answered, 
 "Sixteen!" 
 
 "Indeed!" A simple word, but so suggestively 
 uttered. "Shall we continue the meeting. Ladies?" 
 
 This aroused Prudence's ire on her sister's be- 
 half, and she squared her shoulders defiantly. For 
 a while, Fairy was utterly subdued. But thinking 
 it over to herself, she decided that after all there 
 was nothing absolutely shameful in a sixteen-year- 
 old girl writing sentimental verses. Silly, to be 
 sure ! But all sixteen-year-olds are silly. We love 
 them for it! And Fairy's good nature and really 
 good judgment came to her rescue, and she smiled 
 at Prudence with her old serenity. 
 
 The meeting progressed, and the business was 
 presently disposed of. So far, things were not too 
 seriously bad, and Prudence sighed in great re- 
 lief. Then the Ladies took out their sewing, and 
 began industriously working at many unmention- 
 able articles, designed for the intimate clothing of 
 
THE LADIES' AID 69 
 
 a lot of young Methodists confined in an orphans' 
 home in Chicago. And they talked together pleas- 
 antly and gaily. And Prudence and Fairy felt that 
 the cloud was lifted. 
 
 But soon it settled again, dark and lowering. 
 Prudence heard Lark running through the hall and 
 her soul misgave her. Why was Lark going up- 
 stairs? What was her errand? And she remem- 
 bered the wraps of the Ladies, up-stairs, alone and 
 unprotected. Dare she trust Lark in such a crisis? 
 Perhaps the very sight of Prudence and the La- 
 dies' Aid would arouse her better nature, and pre- 
 vent catastrophe. To be sure, her mission might 
 be innocent, but Prudence dared not run the risk. 
 Fortunately she was sitting near the door. 
 
 "Lark!" she called softly. Lark stopped abrupt- 
 ly, and something fell to the floor. 
 
 "Lark!" 
 
 There was a muttered exclamation from without, 
 and Lark began fumbling rapidly around on the 
 floor talking incoherently to herself. 
 
 "Lark!" 
 
 The Ladies smiled, and Miss Carr, laughing 
 lightly, said, "She is an attentive creature, isn't 
 she?" 
 
70 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Prudence would gladly have flown out into the 
 hall to settle this matter, but she realized that she 
 was on exhibition. Had she done so, the Ladies 
 would have set her down forever after as thorough- 
 ly incompetent, — she could not go ! But Lark must 
 come to her. 
 
 "Lark !" This was Prudence's most awful voice, 
 and Lark was bound to heed. 
 
 "Oh, Prue," she said plaintively, "I'll be there in 
 a minute. Can't you wait just five minutes? Let 
 me run up-stairs first, won't you? Then I'll come 
 gladly! Won't that do?" 
 
 Her voice was hopeful. But Prudence replied 
 with dangerous calm: 
 
 "Come at once. Lark." 
 
 "All right, then," and added threateningly, "but 
 you'll wish I hadn't." 
 
 Then Lark opened the door,- — a woeful figure! 
 In one hand she carried an empty shoe box. And 
 her face was streaked with good rich Iowa mud. 
 Her clothes were plastered with it. One shoe was 
 caked from the sole to the very top button, and a 
 great gash in her stocking revealed a generous 
 portion of round white leg. 
 
 Poor Prudence! At that moment, she would 
 
THE LADIES' AID 71 
 
 have exchanged the whole parsonage, bathroom, 
 electric lights and all, for a tiny log ckbin in the 
 heart of a gpreat forest where she and Lark might 
 be alone together. 
 
 And Fairy laughed. Prudence looked at her 
 with tears in her eyes, and then turned to the 
 wretched girl. 
 
 "What have you been doing. Lark?" 
 The heart-break expressed in the face of Lark 
 would have made the angels weep. Beneath the 
 smudges of mud on her cheeks she was pallid, and 
 try as she would, she could not keep her chin from 
 trembling ominously. Her eyes were fastened on 
 the floor for the most part, but occasionally she 
 raised them hurriedly, appealingly, to her sister's 
 face, and dropped them again. Not for worlds 
 would she have faced the Ladies! Prudence was 
 obliged to repeat her question before Lark 
 could articulate a reply. She gulped painfully a 
 few times, — ^making meanwhile a desperate effort 
 to hide the gash in one stocking by placing the other 
 across it, rubbing it up and down in great embar- 
 rassment, and balancing herself with apparent diffi- 
 culty. Her voice, when she was able to speak, was 
 barely recognizable. 
 
72 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "We — we — ^we are making — mud images, Prud- 
 ence. It — it was awfully messy, I know, but — they 
 say — it is such a good — and useful thing to do. We 
 — we didn't expect — ^the — the Ladies to see us." 
 
 "Mud images !" gasped Prudence, and even Fairy 
 stared incredulously. "Where in the world did 
 you get hold of an idea like that?" 
 
 "It — it was in that — that Mother's Home Friend 
 paper you take. Prudence." Prudence blushed 
 guiltily. "It — it was modeling in clay, but — ^we 
 haven't any clay, and — ^the mud is very nice, but — 
 Oh, I know I look just — horrible. I — I — Connie 
 pushed me in the — ^puddle — for fun. I — I was 
 vexed about it. Prudence, honestly. I — I was chas- 
 ing her, and I fell, and tore my stocking, — ^and — 
 and — but. Prudence, the papers do say children 
 ought to model, and we didn't think of — getting 
 caught." Another appealing glance into her sis- 
 ter's face, and Lark plunged on, bent on smooth- 
 ing matters if she could. "Carol is — is just fine at 
 it, really. She — she's making a Venus de Milo, and 
 it's good. But we can't remember whether her arm 
 
 is off at the elbow or below the shoulder " An 
 
 enormous gulp, and by furious blinking Lark man- 
 aged to crowd back the tears that would slip to 
 
THE LADIES' AID 73 
 
 the edge of her lashes. "I — I'm very sorry, Pru- 
 dence." 
 
 "Very well. Lark, you may go. I do not really 
 object to your modeling in mud, I am sure. I am 
 sorry you look so disreputable. You must change 
 your shoes and stockings at once, and then you can 
 go on with your modeling. But there must be no 
 more pushing and chasing. I'll see Connie about 
 that to-night. Now " 
 
 "Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! What in the world is that ?" 
 
 This was a chorus of several Ladies' Aid voices, 
 — ^a double quartette at the very least. Lark gave 
 a sharp exclamation and began looking hurriedly 
 about her on the floor. 
 
 "It's got in here, — just as I expected," she ex- 
 claimed. "I said you would be sorry, Prue, — Oh, 
 there it is under your chair, Mrs. Prentiss. Just 
 wait, — ^maybe I can shove it back in the box again." 
 
 This was greeted with a fresh chorus of shrieks. 
 There was a hurried and absolute vacation of that 
 corner of the front room. The Ladies fled, drop- 
 ping their cherished sewing, shoving one another 
 in a most Unladies-Aid-like way. 
 
 And there, beneath a chair, squatted the cause of 
 the confusion, an innocent, unhappy, blinking toad ! 
 
74 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Oh, Larkie!" 
 
 This was a prolonged wail. 
 
 "It's all right, Prue, honestly it is," urged Lark 
 with pathetic solemnity. "We didn't do it for a 
 joke. We're keeping him for a good purpose. 
 Connie found him in the garden, — and — Carol said 
 we ought to keep him for Professor Duke, — he 
 asked us to bring him things to cut up in science, 
 you remember. So we just shoved him into this 
 shoe box, and — ^we thought we'd keep him in the 
 bath-tub until morning. We did it for a good pur- 
 pose, don't you see we did? Oh, Prudence!" 
 
 Prudence was horribly outraged, but even in 
 that critical moment, justice insisted that Lark's 
 arguments were sound. The professor had cer- 
 tainly asked the scholars to bring him "things 
 to cut up." But a toad! A live one! — ^And the 
 Ladies' Aid! Prudence shivered. 
 
 "I am sure you meant well, Larkie," she said in 
 a low voice, striving hard to keep down the bitter 
 resentment in her heart, "I know you did. But you 
 should not have brought that — ^that thing — into 
 the house. Pick him up at once, and take him 
 out-of-doors and let him go." 
 
 But this was not readily done. In spite of her 
 
THE LADIES' AID 75 
 
 shame and deep dismay, Lark refused to touch 
 the toad with her fingers. 
 
 "I can't touch him, Prudence, — I simply can't," 
 she whimpered. "We shoved him in with the broom 
 handle before." 
 
 And as no one else was willing to touch it, and 
 as the Ladies clustered together in confusion, and 
 with much laughter, in the far comer of the other 
 room, Prudence brought the broom and the not un- 
 willing toad was helped to other quarters. 
 
 "Now go," said' Prudence quickly, and Laxk 
 was swift to avail herself of the permission. 
 
 Followed a quiet hour, and then the Ladies put 
 aside their sewing and walked about the room, chat- 
 ting in little groups. With a significant glance to 
 Fairy, Prudence walked calmly to the double doors 
 between the dining-room and the sitting-room. The 
 eyes of the Ladies followed her with interest and 
 even enthusiasm. They were hungry. Prudence 
 slowly opened wide the doors, and — stood amazed ! 
 The Ladies clustered about her, and stood amazed 
 also. The dining-room was there, and the table! 
 But the appearance of the place was vastly differ- 
 ent! The snowy cloth was draped artistically over 
 a picture on the wall, the lowest edges well above 
 
76 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 the floor. The plates and trays, napkin-covered, 
 were safely stowed away on the floor in distant 
 corners. The kitchen scrub bucket had been 
 brought in and turned upside down, to afford a 
 fitting resting place for the borrowed punch bowl, 
 full to overflowing with fragrant lemonade. 
 
 And at the table were three dirty, disheveled lit- 
 tle figures, bending seriously over piles of mud. A 
 not-unrecognizable Venus de Milo occupied the cen- 
 ter of the table. Connie was painstakingly at work 
 on some animal, a dog perhaps, or possibly an ele- 
 phant. And 
 
 The three young modelers looked up in exclama- 
 tory consternation as the doors opened. 
 
 "Oh, are you ready?" cried Carol. "How the 
 time has flown! We had no idea you'd be ready 
 so soon. Oh, we are sorry, Prudence. We intend- 
 ed to have everything fixed properly for you again. 
 We needed a flat place for our modeling. It's 
 a shame, that's what it is. Isn't that a handsome 
 Venus? I did that! — If you'll just shut the door 
 one minute, Prudence, we'll have everything ex- 
 actly as you left it. And we're as sorry as we can 
 be. You can have my Venus for a centerpiece, if 
 you like." 
 
THE LADIES' AID -j-j 
 
 Prudence silently closed the doors, and the La- 
 dies, laughing significantly, drew away. 
 
 "Don't you think, my dear," began Mrs. Prentiss 
 too sweetly, "that they are a little more than you 
 can manage? Don't you really think an older 
 woman is needed ?" 
 
 "I do not think so," cried Fairy, before her sis- 
 ter could speak, "no older woman could be kinder, 
 or sweeter, or more patient and helpful than Prue." 
 
 "Undoubtedly true! But something more is 
 needed, I am afraid! It appears that girls are a 
 little more disorderly than in my own young days! 
 Perhaps I do not judge advisedly, but it seems to 
 me they are a little — ^unmanageable." 
 
 "Indeed they are not," cried Prudence loyally. 
 "They are young, lively, mischievous, I know, — ■ 
 and I am glad of it. But I have lived with them 
 ever since they were born, and I ought to know 
 them. They are unselfish, they are sympathetic, 
 they are always generous. They do foolish and 
 irritating things, — ^but never things that are hateful 
 and mean. They are all right at heart, and that 
 is all that counts. They are not bad girls! What 
 have they done to-day? They were exasperating, 
 and humiliating', too, but what did they do that 
 
78 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 was really mean? They embarrassed and mortified 
 me, but not intentionally ! I can't punish them for 
 the effect on me, you know! Would that be just 
 or fair? At heart, they meant no harm." 
 
 It must be confessed that there were many seri- 
 ous faces among the Ladies. Some cheeks were 
 flushed, some eyes were downcast, some lips were 
 compressed and some were trembling. Every 
 mother there was asking in her heart, "Did I pun- 
 ish my children just for the effect on me? Did I 
 judge my children by what was in their hearts, or 
 just by the trouble they made me ?" 
 
 And the silence lasted so long that it became awk- 
 ward. Finally Mrs. Prentiss crossed the room and 
 stood by Prudence's side. She laid a hand tenderly 
 on the young girl's arm, and said in a voice that 
 was slightly tremulous: 
 
 "I believe you are right, my dear. It is what 
 girls are at heart that really counts. I believe your 
 sisters are all you say they are. And one thing I 
 am very sure of, — they are happy girls to have a 
 sister so patient, and loving, and just. Not all real 
 mothers have as much to their credit !" 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 A SECRET SOCIETY 
 
 CAROL and Lark, in keeping with their twin- 
 ship, were the dearest of jchums and com- 
 rades. They resembled each other closely in build, 
 being of the same height and size. They 
 were slender, yet gave a suggestion of sturdiness. 
 Carol's face was a delicately tinted oval, brightened 
 by clear and sparkling eyes of blue. She was really 
 beautiful, bright, attractive and vivacious. She 
 made friends readily, and was always considered the 
 "most popular girl in our crowd" — whatever 
 Carol's crowd at the time might be. But she was 
 not extremely clever, caring little for study, and 
 with no especial talent in any direction. Lark 
 was as nearly contrasting as any sister could be. 
 Her face was pale, her eyes were dark brown and 
 full of shadows, and she was a brilliant and earnest 
 student. For each other the twins felt a passionate 
 devotion that was very beautiful, but ludicrous as 
 well. 
 
 79 
 
80 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 To them, the great rambling barn back of the 
 parsonage was a most delightful place. It had a 
 big cow-shed on one side, and horse stalls on the 
 other, with a "heavenly" haymow over all, and 
 with "chutes" for the descent of hay, — and twins! 
 In one comer was a high dark crib for corn, with 
 an open window looking down into the horse stalls 
 adjoining. When the crib was newly filled, the 
 twins could clamber painfully up on the corn, 
 struggle backward through the narrow window, 
 and holding to the ledge of it with their hands, drop 
 down into the nearest stall. To be sure they were 
 likely to fall, — more likely than not, — and their 
 hands were splinter-filled and their heads blue- 
 bumped most of the time. But splinters and bumps 
 did not interfere with their pursuit of pleasure. 
 
 Now the twins had a Secret Society, — of which 
 they were the founders, the officers and the mem- 
 bership body. Its name was Skull and Crossbones. 
 Why that name was chosen perhaps even the twins 
 themselves could not explain, but it sounded 
 deep, dark and bloody, — and so was the Society. 
 Lark furnished the brain power for the organiza- 
 tion but her sister was an enthusiastic and energetic 
 second. Carol's club narne was Lady Gwendolyn, 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 8r 
 
 and Lark's was Sir Alfred Angelcourt ordinarily, 
 although subject to frequent change. Sometimes 
 she was Lord Beveling, the villain of the plot, and 
 chased poor Gwendolyn madly through corn-crib, 
 horse stalls and haymow. Again she was the dark- 
 browed Indian silently stalking his unconscious 
 prey. Then she was a fierce lion lying in wait for 
 the approaching damsel. The old barn saw stir- 
 ring times after the coming of the new parsonage 
 family. 
 
 "Hark ! Hark !" sounded a hissing whisper from 
 the corn-crib, and Connie, eavesdropping outside 
 the barn, shivered sympathetically. 
 
 "What is it! Oh, what is it?" wailed the unfor- 
 tunate lady. 
 
 "Look! Look! Run for your life !" 
 
 Then while Connie clutched the barn door in a 
 frenzy, there was a sound of rattling corn as the 
 twins scrambled upward, a silence, a low thud, and 
 an unromantic "Ouch!" as Carol bumped her head 
 and stumbled. 
 
 "Are you assaulted?" shouted the bold Sir Al- 
 fred, and Connie heard a wild scuffle as he rescued 
 his companion from the clutches of the old halter 
 on which she had stumbled. Up the haymow ladder 
 
82 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 they hurried, and then slid recklessly down the hay- 
 chutes. Presently the barn door was flung open, 
 and the "Society" knocked Connie flying backward, 
 ran madly around the barn a few times, and scur- 
 ried under the fence and into the chicken coop. 
 
 A little later, Connie, assailed with shots of corn- 
 cobs, ran bitterly toward the house. "Peaking" was 
 strictly forbidden when the twins were engaged in 
 Skull and Crossbones activities. 
 
 And Connie's soul burned with desire. She felt 
 that this secret society was threatening not only 
 her happiness, but also her health, for she could not 
 sleep for horrid dreams of Skulls and Crossbones 
 at night, and could not eat for envying the twins 
 their secret and mysterious joys. Therefore, with 
 unwonted humility, she applied for entrance. She 
 had applied many times previously, without effect. 
 But this time she enforced her application with a 
 nickel's worth of red peppermint drops, bought for 
 the very purpose. The twins accepted the drops 
 gravely, and told Connie she must make formal 
 application. Then they marched solemnly off to the 
 barn with the peppermint drops, without offering 
 Connie a share. This hurt, but she did not long 
 grieve over it, she was so busy wondering what 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 83 
 
 on earth they meant by "formal application." 
 Finally she applied to Prudence, and received as- 
 sistance. 
 
 The afternoon mail brought to the parsonage an 
 envelope addressed to "Misses Carol and Lark 
 Starr, The Methodist Parsonage, Mount Mark, 
 Iowa," and in the lower left-hand corner was a 
 suggestive drawing of a Skull and Crossbones. The 
 eyes of the mischievous twins twinkled with delight 
 when they saw it, and they carried it to the barn 
 for prompt perusal. It read as follows: 
 
 "Miss Constance Starr humbly and respectfully 
 craves admittance into the Ancient and Honorable 
 Organization of Skull and Crossbones." 
 
 The twins pondered long on a fitting reply, and 
 the next afternoon the postman brought a letter 
 for Connie, waiting impatiently for it. She had 
 approached the twins about it at noon that day. 
 
 "Did you get my application?" she had whispered 
 nervously. 
 
 But the twins had stared her out of countenance, 
 and Connie realized that she had committed a seri- 
 ous breach of secret society etiquette. 
 
 But here was the letter ! Her fingers trembled as 
 
84 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 she opened it. It was decorated lavishly with skulls 
 and crossbones, splashed with red ink, supposedly 
 blood, and written in the same suggestive color. 
 
 "Skull and Crossbones has heard the plea of Miss 
 Constance Starr. If she present herself at the Par- 
 sonage Haymow this evening, at eight o'clock, she 
 shall learn the will of the Society regarding her 
 petition." 
 
 Connie was jubilant ! In a flash, she saw herself 
 admitted to the mysterious Barnyard Order, and 
 began working out a name for her own designation 
 after entrance. It was a proud day for her. 
 
 By the time the twins had finished washing the 
 supper dishes, it was dark. Constance glanced out 
 of the window apprehensively. She now remem- 
 bered that eight o'clock was very, very late, and 
 that the barn was a long way from the house ! And 
 up in the haymow, too! And such a mysterious 
 bloody society! Her heart quaked within her. So 
 she approached the twins respectfully, and said in 
 an offhand way : 
 
 "I can go any time now. Just let me know when 
 you're ready, and I'll go right along with you." 
 
 But the twins stared at her again in an amazing 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 85 
 
 and overbearing fashion, and vouchsafed no reply. 
 Connie, however, determined to keep a watchful eye 
 upon them, and when they started barnward, she 
 would trail closely along in their rear. It was a 
 quarter to eight, and fearfully dark, when she sud- 
 denly remembered that they had been up-stairs an 
 unnaturally long time. She rushed up in a panic. 
 They were not there. She ran through the house. 
 They were not to be found. The dreadful truth 
 overwhelmed her, — the twins were already in the 
 ha)miow, the hour had come, and she must go forth 
 
 Breathlessly, she slipped out of the back door, 
 and closed it softly behind her. She could not dis- 
 tinguish the dark outlines of the barn in the equal 
 darkness of the autumn night. She gave a long 
 sobbing gasp as she groped her way forward. As 
 she neared the barn, she was startled to hear froni 
 the haymow over her head, deep groans as of a soul 
 in mortal agony. Something had happened to the 
 twins ! 
 
 "Girls! Girls!" she cried, forgetting for the mo- 
 ment her own sorry state. "What is the matter? 
 Twins!" 
 
 Sepulchral silence! And Connie knew that this 
 
86 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 was the dreadful Skull and Bones. Her teeth chat- 
 tered as she stood there, irresolute in the intense 
 and throbbing darkness. 
 
 "It's only the twins," she assured herself over 
 and over, and began fumbling with the latch of the 
 barn door, — ^but her fingers were stiff and cold. 
 Suddenly from directly above her, there came the 
 hideous clanking of iron chains. Connie had read 
 ghost stories, and she knew the significance of 
 clanking chains, but she stood her ground in spite 
 of the almost irresistible impulse to fly. After the 
 clanking, the loud and clamorous peal of a bell 
 rang out. 
 
 "It's that old cow bell they found in the field," 
 she whispered practically, but found it none the 
 less horrifying. 
 
 Finally she stepped into the blackness of the barn, 
 found the ladder leading to the haymow and began 
 slowly climbing. But her own weight seemed a tre- 
 mendous thing, and she had difficulty in raising her- 
 self from step to step. She comforted herself with 
 the reflection that at the top were the twins, — com- 
 pany and triumph hand in hand. But when she 
 reached the top, and peered around her, she found 
 little comfort, — and no desirable company ? ' 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 87 
 
 A small barrel draped in black stood in the cen- 
 ter of the mow, and on it a lighted candle gave out 
 a feeble flickering ray which emphasized the dark- 
 ness around it. On either side of the black-draped 
 barrel stood a motionless figure, clothed in somber 
 black. On the head of one was a skull, — ^not a really 
 skull, just a pasteboard imitation, but it was just 
 as awful to Connie. On the head of the other 
 were crossbones. 
 
 "Kneel," commanded the hoarse voice of Skull, 
 in which Connie could faintly distinguish the tone 
 of Lark. 
 
 She knelt, — an abject quivering neophyte. 
 
 "Hear the will of Skull and Crossbones," chanted 
 Crossbones in a shrill monotone. 
 
 Then Skull took up the strain once more. "Skull 
 and Crossbones, great in mercy and in conde- 
 scension, has listened graciously to the prayer of 
 Constance, the Seeker. Hear the will of the Great 
 Spirit! If the Seeker will, for the leng^th of two 
 weeks, submit herself to the will of Skull and Cross- 
 bones, she shall be admitted into the Ancient and 
 Honorable Order. If the Seeker accepts this con- 
 dition, she must bow herself to the ground three 
 times, in token of submission." 
 
88 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "There's no ground here," came a small faint 
 voice from the kneeling Seeker. 
 
 "The floor, madam," Skull explained sternly. "If 
 the Seeker accepts the condition, — to submit her- 
 self absolutely to the will of Skull and Crossbones 
 for two entire weeks, — she shall bow herself three 
 times." 
 
 Constance hesitated. It was so grandly ex- 
 pressed that she hardly understood what they 
 wanted. Carol came to her rescue. 
 
 "That means you've got to do everything Lark 
 and I tell you for two weeks," she said in her nat- 
 ural voice. 
 
 Then Constance bowed herself three times, — al- 
 though she lost her balance in the act, and Carol 
 forgot her dignity and gave way to laughter, swiftly 
 subdued, however. 
 
 "Arise and approach the altar," she commanded 
 in the shrill voice, which yet gave signs of laughter. 
 
 Constance arose and approached. 
 
 "Upon the altar, before the Eternal Light, you 
 will find a small black bow, with a drop of human 
 blood in the center. This is the badge of your 
 pledgedom. You must wear it day and night, dur- 
 ing the entire two weeks. After that, if all is well. 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 89 
 
 you shall be received into full membership. If you 
 break your pledge to the Order, it must be restored 
 at once to Skull and Crossbones. Take it, and pin 
 it upon your breast." 
 
 Constance did so, — and her breast heaved with 
 rapture and awe in mingling. 
 
 Then a horrible thing happened. The flame of 
 the "Eternal Light" was suddenly extinguished, 
 and Carol exclaimed, "The ceremony is ended. Re- 
 turn, damsel, to thine abode." 
 
 A sound of scampering feet, — and Constance 
 knew that the Grand Officials had fled, and she was 
 alone in the dreadful darkness. She called after 
 them pitifully, but she heard the slam of the kitchen 
 door before she had even reached the ladder. 
 
 It was a sobbing and miserable neophyte who 
 stumbled into the kitchen a few seconds later. The 
 twins were bending earnestly over their Latin gram- 
 mars by the side of the kitchen fire, and did not 
 raise their eyes as the Seeker burst into the 
 room. Constance sat down, and gasped and 
 quivered for a while. Then she looked down com- 
 placently at the little black bow with its smudge of 
 red ink, and sighed contentedly. 
 
 The week that followed was a gala one for the 
 
90 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 twins of Skull and Crossbones. Constance swept 
 their room, made their bed, washed their dishes, did 
 their chores, and in every way behaved as a model 
 pledge of the Ancient and Honorable. The twins 
 were gracious but firm. There was no arguing, and 
 no faltering. "It is the will of Skull and Cross- 
 bones that the damsel do this," they would say. 
 And the damsel did it. 
 
 Prudence did not feel it was a case that called 
 for her interference. So she sat back and watched, 
 while the twins told stories, read and frolicked, and 
 Constance did their daily tasks. 
 
 So eight days passed, and then fcame Waterloo. 
 Constance returned home after an errand down- 
 town, and in her hand she carried a great g'olden 
 pear. Perhaps Constance would have preferred 
 that she escape the notice of the twins on this oc- 
 casion, but as luck would have it, she passed Carol 
 in the hall. 
 
 "Gracious! What a pear! Where did you get it?" 
 demanded Carol covetously. 
 
 "I met Mr. Arnold down-town, and he bought it 
 for me. He's very fond of me. It cost him a dime, 
 too, for just this one. Isn't it a beauty?" And 
 Connie licked her lips suggestively. 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 91 
 
 Carol licked hers, too, thoughtfully. Then she 
 called up the stairs, "Lark, come here, quick!" 
 
 Lark did so, and duly exclaimed and admired. 
 Then she said significantly, "I suppose you are go- 
 ing to divide with us ?" 
 
 "Of course," said Connie with some indignation. 
 "I'm going to cut it in five pieces so Prudence and 
 Fairy can have some, too." 
 
 A pause, while Carol and Lark gazed at each 
 other soberly. Mentally, each twin was figuring 
 how big her share would be when the pear was di- 
 vided in fives. Then Lark spoke. 
 
 "It is the will of Skull and Crossbones that this 
 luscious fruit be turned over to them immediately." 
 
 Constance faltered, held it out, drew it back. 
 
 "If I do, I suppose you'll give me part of it, 
 anyhow," she said, and her eyes glittered. 
 
 "Not so, damsel," said Carol ominously. "The 
 Ancient and Honorable takes, — it never gives." 
 
 For a moment Constance wavered. Then she 
 flamed into sudden anger. "I won't do it, so there !" 
 she cried. "I think you're mean selfish pigs, that's 
 what I think ! Taking my very own pear, and — ^but 
 you won't get it! I don't care if I never get into 
 your silly old society, — ^you don't get a bite of this 
 
92 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 pear, I can tell you that!" And Constance rushed 
 up-stairs and slammed a door. A few seconds later 
 the door opened again, and her cherished badge 
 was flung down upon Skull and Crossbones. 
 
 "There's your old black string smeared up with 
 red ink !" she yelled at them wildly. And again the 
 door slammed. 
 
 Carol picked up the insulted badge, and studied 
 it thoughtfully. Lark spoke first. 
 
 "It occurs to me, Fair Gwendolyn, that we would 
 do well to keep this little scene from the ears of 
 the just and righteous Prudence." 
 
 "Right, as always. Brave Knight," was the wom- 
 anly retort. And the twins betook themselves to 
 the haymow in thoughtful mood. 
 
 A little later, when Prudence and Fairy came 
 laughing into the down-stairs hall, a white-faced 
 Constance met them. "Look," she said, holding 
 out a pear, divided into three parts, just like Gaul. 
 "Mr. Arnold gave me this pear, and here's a piece 
 for each of you." 
 
 The girls thanked her warmly, but Prudence 
 paused with her third almost touching her lips. 
 "How about the twins?" she inquired. "Aren't 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 93 
 
 they at home? Won't they break your pledge if 
 you leave them out?" 
 
 Constance looked up sternly. "I oflfered them 
 some half an hour ago, and they refused it," she 
 said. "And they have already put me out of the 
 society!" There was tragedy in the childish face, 
 and Prudence put her arms around this baby-sister. 
 
 "Tell Prue all about it, Connie," she said. But 
 Constance shook her head. 
 
 "It can't be talked about. Go on and eat your 
 pear. It is good." 
 
 "Was it all right?" questioned Prudence. "Did 
 the twins play fair, Connie?" 
 
 "Yes," said Constance. "It was all right. Don't 
 talk about it." 
 
 But in two days Constance repented of her rash- 
 ness. In three days she was pleading for forgive- 
 ness. And in four days she was starting in on an- 
 other two weeks of pledgedom, and the desecrated 
 ribbon with its drop of blood reposed once more 
 on her ambitious breast. 
 
 For three days her service was sore indeed, for 
 the twins informed her, with sympathy, that she 
 must be punished for insubordination. "But after 
 
94 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 that, we'll be just as easy on you as anything, Con- 
 nie," they told her. "So don't you get sore now. 
 In three days, we'll let up on you." 
 
 A week passed, ten days, and twelve. Then came 
 a golden October afternoon when the twins sat in 
 the haymow looking out upon a mellow world. Con- 
 stance was in the yard, reading a fairy story. The 
 situation was a tense one, for the twins were 
 hungry, and time was heavy on their hands. 
 
 "The apple trees in Avery's orchard are just 
 loaded," said Lark aimlessly. "And there are lots 
 on the ground, too. I saw them when I was out 
 in the field this morning." 
 
 "Some of the trees are close to our fence, too," 
 said Carol slowly. "Very close." 
 
 Lark glanced up with sudden interest. "That's 
 so," she said. "And the wires on the fence are 
 awfully loosei" 
 
 Carol gazed down into the yard where Constance 
 was absorbed in her book. "Constance oughtn't 
 to read as much as she does," she argued. "It's 
 so bad for the eyes." 
 
 "Yes, and what's more, she's been getting off too 
 easy the last few days. The time is nearly up." 
 
 "That's so," said Lark. "Let's call her up here." 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 95 
 
 This was done at once, and the unfortunate Con- 
 stance walked reluctantly toward the bam, her fas- 
 cinating story still in her hand. 
 
 "You see, they've got more apples than they 
 need, and those on the ground are just going to 
 waste," continued Carol, pending the arrival of the 
 little pledge. "The chickens are pecking at them, 
 and ruining them." 
 
 "It's criminal destruction, that's what it is," de- 
 clared Lark. 
 
 Connie stood before them respectfully, as they 
 had instructed her to stand. The twins hesitated, 
 each secretly hoping the other would voice the order. 
 But Lark as usual was obliged to be the spokesman. 
 
 "Damsel," she said, "it is the will of Skull and 
 Crossbones that you hie ye to yonder orchard, — 
 Avery's, I mean, — and bring hither some of the 
 golden apples basking in the sun." 
 
 "What!" ejaculated Connie, startled out of her 
 respect. 
 
 Carol frowned. 
 
 Connie hastened to modify her tone. "Did they 
 say you might have them?" she inquired politely. 
 
 "That concerns thee not, 'tis for thee only to 
 render obedience to the orders of the Society. Go 
 
96 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 out through our field and sneak under the fence 
 where the wires are loose, and hurry back. We're 
 awfully hungry. The trees are near the fence. 
 There isn't any danger." 
 
 "But it's stealing," objected Connie. "What will 
 Prudence " 
 
 "Damsel !" And Connie turned to obey with de- 
 spair in her heart. 
 
 "Bring twelve," Carol called after her, "that'll 
 be four apiece. And hurry, Connie. And see 
 they don't catch you while you're about it." 
 
 After she had gone, the twins lay back thought- 
 fully on the hay and stared at the cobwebby roof 
 above them. 
 
 "It's a good thing Prudence and Fairy are down- 
 town," said Lark sagely. 
 
 "Yes, or we'd catch it," assented Carol. "But I 
 don't see why ! The Averys -have too many apples, 
 and they are going to waste. I'm sure Mrs. Avery 
 would rather let us have them than the chickens." 
 
 They lay in silence for a while. Something was 
 hurting them, but whether it was their fear of the 
 wrath of Prudence, or the twinges of tender con- 
 sciences, — who can say? 
 
 "She's an unearthly long time about it," ex- 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 97 
 
 claimed Lark, at last. "Do you suppose they caught 
 her?" 
 
 This was an awful thought, and the girls were 
 temporarily suffocated. But they heard the barn 
 door swinging beneath them, and sighed with re- 
 lief. It was Connie ! She climbed the ladder skil- 
 fully, and poured her golden treasure before the 
 arch thieves. Skull and Crossbones. 
 
 There were eight big tempting apples. 
 
 "Hum! Eight," said Carol sternly. "I said 
 twelve." 
 
 "Yes, but I was afraid some one was coming. I 
 heard such a noise through the grapevines, so I got 
 what I could and ran for it. There's three apiece 
 for you, and two for me," said Connie, sitting down 
 sociably beside them on the hay. 
 
 But Carol rose. "Damsel, begone," she ordered. 
 "When Skull and Crossbones feast, thou canst not 
 yet share the festive board. Rise thee, and speed." 
 
 Connie rose, and walked soberly toward the lad- 
 der. But before she disappeared she fired this part- 
 ing shot, "I don't want any of them. Stolen ap- 
 ples don't taste very good, I reckon." 
 
 Carol and Lark had the grace to flush a little at 
 this, but however the stolen apples tasted, the 
 
98 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 twins had no difficulty in disposing of them. Then, 
 full almost beyond the point of comfort, they slid 
 down the hay-chutes, went out the back way, 
 climbed over the chicken coops, — not because it was 
 necessary, but because it was their idea of amuse- 
 ment, — and went for a walk in the field. At the 
 farthest corner of the field they crawled under the 
 fence, cut through a neighboring potato patch, and 
 came out on the street Then they walked respect- 
 ably down the sidewalk, turned the corner and 
 came quietly in through the front door of the par- 
 sonage. 
 
 Prudence was in the kitchen preparing the eve- 
 ning meal. Fairy was in the sitting-room, busy 
 with her books. The twins set the table con- 
 scientiously, filled the wood-box, and in every way 
 labored irreproachably. But Prudence had no word 
 of praise for them that evening. She hardly seemed 
 to know they were about the place. She went about 
 her work with a pale face, and never a smile to 
 be seen. 
 
 Supper was nearly ready when Connie saun- 
 tered in from the barn. After leaving the haymow, 
 she had found a cozy corner in the corn-fcrib, with 
 two heavy lap robes discarded by the twins in their 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 99 
 
 flight from wolves, and had settled down there to 
 finish her story. As she stepped into the kitchen. 
 Prudence turned to her with such a sorry, reproach- 
 ful gaze that Connie was frightened. 
 
 "Are you sick, Prue?" she gasped. 
 
 Prudence did not answer. She went to the door 
 and called Fairy. "Finish getting supper, will you, 
 Fairy? And when you are all ready, you and the 
 twins go right on eating. Don't wait for father, — 
 he isn't coming home until evening. Come up-stairs 
 with me, Connie; I want to talk to you." 
 
 Connie followed her sister soberly, and the twins 
 flashed at each other startled and questioning looks. 
 
 The three girls were at the table when Prudence 
 came into the dining-room alone. She fixed a tray- 
 supper quietly and carried it off up-stairs. Then 
 she came back and sat down by the table. But her 
 face bore marks of tears, and she had no appetite. 
 The twins had felt small liking for their food be- 
 fore, now each mouthful seemed to choke them. 
 But they dared not ask a question. They were 
 devoutly thankful when Fairy finally voiced their 
 interest. 
 
 "What is the matter? Has Connie been in mis- 
 chief?" 
 
100 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "It's worse than that," faltered Prudence, tears 
 rushing to her eyes again. 
 
 "Why, Prudence! What in the world has she 
 done?" 
 
 "I may as well tell you, I suppose, — you'll have 
 to know it sooner or later. She — went out into 
 Avery's orchard and stole some apples this after- 
 noon. I was back in the alley seeing if Mrs. Moon 
 could do the washing, and I saw her from the 
 other side. She went from tree to tree, and when 
 she got through the fence she ran. There's no 
 mistake about it, — she confessed." The twins 
 looked up in agony, but Prudence's face reassured 
 them. Constance had told no tales. "I have told 
 her she must spend all of her time up-stairs alone 
 for a week, taking her meals there, too. She will 
 go to school, of course, but that is all. I want her 
 to see the awfulness of it. I told her I didn't think 
 we wanted to eat with — a thief — just yet! I said 
 we must get used to the idea of it first. She is 
 heartbroken, but — I must make her see it!" 
 
 That was the end of supper. No one attempted 
 to eat another bite. After the older girls had gone 
 into the sitting-room, Carol and Lark went- about 
 their work with stricken faces. 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY loi 
 
 "She's a little brick not to tell," whispered Lark. 
 
 "I'm going to give her that pearl pin of mine 
 she always liked," said Carol in a hushed voice. 
 
 "I'll give her my blue ribbon, too, — she loves 
 blue so. And to-morrow I'll take that quarter I've 
 saved and buy her a whole quarter's worth of 
 candy." 
 
 But that night when the twins went up to bed, 
 they were doomed to disappointment. They had 
 no chance of making it up with Constance. For 
 Prudence had moved her small bed out of the twins' 
 room, and had placed it in the front room occupied 
 by herself and Fairy. They asked if they might 
 speak to Constance, but Prudence went in with them 
 to say good night to her. The twins broke down 
 and cried as they saw the pitiful little figure with 
 the wan and tear-stained face. They threw their 
 arms around her passionately and kissed her many 
 times. But they went to bed without saying any- 
 thing. 
 
 Hours later, Lark whispered, "Carol! are you 
 asleep ?" 
 
 "No. I can't go to sleep somehow." 
 
 "Neither can I. Do you think we'd better tell 
 Prudence all about it?" 
 
102 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Carol squirmed in the bed. "I — suppose we 
 -had," she said reluctantly. 
 
 "But — it'll be lots worse for us than for Connie," 
 Lark added. "We're so much older, and we made 
 her do it." 
 
 "yes, and we ate all the apples," mourned Carol. 
 
 "Maybe we'd better just let it go," suggested 
 Lark. 
 
 "And we'll make it up to Connie afterwards," 
 said Carol, 
 
 "Now, you be careful and not give it away, 
 Carol." 
 
 "You see that you don't." 
 
 But it was a sorry night for the twins. The next 
 morning they set ofif to school, with no chance for 
 anything but a brief good morning with Connie, — 
 given in the presence of Prudence. Half-way down 
 the parsonage walk, Carol said: 
 
 "Oh, wait a minute. Lark. I left my note-book 
 on the table." And Lark walked slowly while Carol 
 went rushing back. She found Prudence in the 
 kitchen, and whispered: 
 
 "Here — ^here's a note. Prudence. Don't read it 
 until after I've gone to school, — at ten o'clock you 
 may read it Will you promise?" 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 103 
 
 Prudence laughed a little, but she promised, and 
 laid the note carefully away to wait the appointed 
 hour for its perusal. As the clock struck ten she 
 went to the mantle, and took it down. This is what 
 Carol had written: 
 
 "Oh, Prudence, do please forgive me, and don't 
 punish Connie any more. You can punish me any 
 way you like, and I'll be glad of it. It was all my 
 fault. I made her go and get the apples for me, 
 and I ate them. Connie didn't eat one of them. She 
 said stolen apples would not taste very good. It 
 was all my fault, and I'm so sorry. I was such a 
 coward I didn't dare tell you last night. Will you 
 forgive me? But you must punish me as hard as 
 ever you can. But please, Prudence, won't you 
 punish me some way without letting Lark know 
 about it ? Please, please. Prudence, don't let Larkie 
 know. You can tell Papa and Fairy so they will 
 despise me, but keep it from my twin. If you love 
 me. Prudence, don't let Larkie know." 
 
 As Prudence read this her face grew very stern. 
 Carol's fault! And she was ashamed to have her 
 much-loved twin know of her disgrace. At that 
 moment. Prudence heard some one running through 
 the hall, and thrust the note hastily into her dress. 
 It was Lark, and she flung herself wildly upon 
 Prudence, sobbing bitterly. 
 
104 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "What is the matter, Lark?" she cried, really 
 frightened. "Are you sick ?" 
 
 "Heartsick, that's all," wailed Lark. "I told the 
 teacher I was sick so I could come home, but I'm 
 not. Oh, Prudence, I know you'll despise and 
 abominate me all the rest of your life, and every- 
 body will, and I deserve it. For I stole those apples 
 myself. That is, I made Connie go and get them 
 for me. She didn't want to. She begged not to. But 
 I made her. She didn't eat one of them, — I did it. 
 And she felt very badly about it. Oh, Prudence, 
 you can do anything in the world to me, — I don't 
 care how horrible it is; I only hope you will. But, 
 Prudence, you won't let Carol know, will you ? Oh, 
 spare me that. Prudence, please. That's my last 
 request, that you keep it from Carol." 
 
 Prudence was surprised and puzzled. She drew 
 the note from her pocket, and gave it to Lark. 
 "Carol gave me that before she went to school," 
 she explained. "Read it, and tell me what you are 
 driving at. I think you are both crazy. Or maybe 
 you are just trying to shield poor Connie." 
 
 Lark read Carol's note, and gasped, and — ^burst 
 out laughing! The shame, and bitter weeping, 
 and nervousness, had rendered her hysterical, and 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 105 
 
 now she laughed and cried until Prudence was 
 alarmed again. 
 
 In time, however, Lark was able to explain. "We 
 both did it," she gasped, "the Skull and Cross- 
 bones. And we both told the truth about it. We 
 made her go and get them for us, and we ate them, 
 and she didn't want to go. I advised Carol not 
 to tell, and she advised me not to. All the way to 
 school this morning, we kept advising each other 
 not to say a word about it. But I intended all the 
 time to pretend I was sick, so I could come and 
 confess alone. I wanted to take the punishment for 
 both of us, so Carol jcould get out. I guess that's 
 what she thought, too. Bless her little old heart, 
 as if I'd let her be punished for my fault. And it 
 was mostly my fault, too, Prue, for I mentioned 
 the apples first of all." 
 
 Prudence laughed,-^— it was really ludicrous. But 
 when she thought of loyal little Connie, sobbing all 
 through the long night, the tears came to her eyes 
 again. She went quickly to the telephone, and called 
 up the school building next door to the parsonage. 
 
 "May I speak to Constance Starr, Mr. Imes?" 
 she asked. "It is very important. This is Pru- 
 dence, her sister." And when Connie came to the 
 
106 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 telephone, she cried, "Oh, you blessed little 
 child, why didn't you tell me? Will you forgive 
 me, Connie ? I ought to have made you tell me all 
 about it, but I was so sorry, I couldn't bear to talk 
 much about it. The twins have told me. You're a 
 dear, sweet, good little darling, that's what you 
 are." 
 
 "Oh, Prudence !" That was all Connie said, but 
 something in her voice made Prudence hang up the 
 receiver quickly, and cry bitterly! 
 
 That noon Prudence pronounced jadgment on 
 the sinners, but her eyes twinkled, for Carol and 
 Lark had scolded each other roundly for giving 
 things away ! 
 
 "Connie should have refused to obey you," she 
 said gently, holding Connie in her arms. "She 
 knew it was wrong. But she has been punished 
 more than enough. But you twins! In the first 
 place, I right now abolish the Skull and Crossbones 
 forever and ever. And you can not play in the 
 barn again for a month. And you must go over 
 to the Averys this afternoon, and tell them about 
 it, and pay for the apples. And you must send all 
 of your spending money for the next month to that 
 woman who is gathering up things for the bad little 
 
A SECRET SOCIETY 107 
 
 children in the Reform School, — ^that will help you 
 remember what happens to boys and girls who get 
 in the habit of taking things on the spur of the mo- 
 ment !" 
 
 The twins accepted all of this graciously, except 
 that which referred to confessing their sin to their 
 neighbors. That did hurt ! The twins were so su- 
 perior, and admirable ! They couldn't bear to ruin 
 their reputations. But Prudence stood firm, in 
 spite of their weeping and wailing. And that after^ 
 noon two shamefaced sorry girls crept meekly in 
 at the Averys' door to make their peace. 
 
 "But about the Skull and Crossbones, it's mostly 
 punishment for me, Prue," said Connie regretfully, 
 "for the twins have been in it ever since we came 
 to Mount Mark, and I never got in at all ! And I 
 wanted them to call me Lady Magdalina Feather- 
 ingale." And Connie sighed. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE TWINS STICK UP FOR THE BIBLE 
 
 PRUDENCE had been calling on a "sick mem- 
 ber." Whenever circumstances permitted she 
 gladly served as pastoral assistant for her father, 
 but she always felt that raising the family was her 
 one big job, and nothing was allowed to take prece- 
 dence of it. As she walked that afternoon down 
 Maple Street, — seemingly so-called because it was 
 bordered with grand old elms, — she felt at peace 
 with all the world. The very sunshine beaming 
 down upon her through the huge skeletons of the 
 leafless elms, was not more care-free than the daugh- 
 ter of the parsonage. Parsonage life had been run- 
 ning smoothly for as much as ten days past, and 
 Prudence, in view of that ten days' immunity, was 
 beginning to feel that the twins, if not Connie also, 
 were practically reared! 
 
 "Mount Mark is a dear old place, — a duck of a 
 place, as the twins would say, — and I'm quite sorry 
 there's a five-year limit for Methodist preachers. 
 108 
 
THE TWINS 109 
 
 I should truly like to live right here until I am old 
 and dead." 
 
 Then she paused, and bowed, and smiled. She 
 did not recognize the bright-faced young woman 
 approaching, but she remembered just in time that 
 parsonage people are marked characters. So she 
 greeted the stranger cordially. 
 
 "You are Miss Starr, aren't you?" the bright- 
 faced woman was saying, "I am Miss Allen, — 
 the principal of the high school, you know." 
 
 "Oh, yes," cried Prudence, thrusting forth her 
 hand impulsively, "oh, yes, I know. I am so glad 
 to meet you." 
 
 Miss Allen was a young woman of twenty-six, 
 with clear kind eyes and a strong sweet mouth. She 
 had about her that charm of manner which can only 
 be described as winsome womanliness. Prudence 
 gazed at her with open and honest admiration. Such 
 a young woman to be the principal of a high school 
 in a city the size of Mount Mark! She must be 
 tremendously clever. But Prudence did not sigh. 
 We can't all be clever, you know. There must be 
 some of us to admire the rest of us! 
 
 The two walked along together, chatting sociably 
 on subjects that meant nothing to either of them. 
 
110 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Presently Miss Allen stopped, and with a graceful 
 wave of her hand, said lightly : 
 
 "This is where I am rooming. Are you in a very 
 great hurry this afternoon? I should like to talk 
 to you about the twins. Will you come in ?" 
 
 The spirits of Prudence fell earthward with a 
 clatter ! The twins ! Whatever had they been do- 
 ing now? 
 
 She followed Miss Allen into the house and up 
 the stairs with the joy quite quenched in her heart. ' 
 She did not notice the dainty room into which 
 she was conducted. She ignored the offered chair, 
 and with a dismal face turned toward Miss Allen. 
 
 "Oh, please! What have they been doing? Is 
 it very awful ?" 
 
 Miss Allen laughed gaily. "Oh, sit down and 
 don't look so distressed. It's nothing at all. They 
 haven't been doing anything. I just want to dis- 
 cuss them on general principles, you know. It's 
 my duty to confer with the parents and guardians 
 of my scholars." 
 
 Immensely relieved. Prudence sank down in the 
 chair, and rocked comfortably to and fro a few 
 times. General principles, — ah, blessed words! 
 
 "I suppose you know that Carol is quite the idol 
 
THE TWINS III 
 
 of the high school already. She is the adored one 
 of the place. You see, she is not mixed up in any 
 scholastic rivalry. Lark is one of the very best in 
 her class, and there is intense rivalry between a 
 few of the freshmen. But Carol is out of all that, 
 and every one is free to worship at her shrine. She 
 makes no pretensions to stand first." 
 
 "Is she very stupid?" Prudence was disap- 
 pointed. She did so want both of her twins to 
 shine. 
 
 "Stupid! Not a bit of it. She is a very good 
 scholar, much better than the average. Our first 
 pupils, including Lark, average around ninety-six 
 and seven. Then there are others ranging between 
 ninety and ninety- four. Carol is one of them. The 
 fairly good ones are over eighty-five, and the fairly 
 bad ones are over seventy-five, and the hopeless 
 ones are below that. This is a rough way of show- 
 ing how they stand. Lark is a very fine scholar, 
 really the best in the class. She not only makes 
 good grades, she grasps the underlying significance 
 of her studies. Very few freshmen, even among 
 the best, do that. She is quite exceptional. We 
 hope to make something very big and fine ol 
 Larkie," 
 
112 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Prudence's eyes shone with motherly pride. She 
 nodded, striving to make her voice natural and 
 matter-of-fact as she answered, "Yes, she is 
 bright." 
 
 "She certainly is! Carol is quite different, but 
 she is so sweet-spirited, and vivacious, and — un- 
 snobbish, if you know what that means — that every 
 one in high school, and even the grammar-grade 
 children, idolize her. She is very witty, but her wit 
 is always innocent and kind. She never hurts any' 
 one's feelings. And she is never impertinent. The 
 professors are as crazy about her as the scholars, — 
 forgive the slang. Did the twins ever tell you what 
 happened the first day of school ?" 
 
 "No, — ^tell me." Prudence was clearly very 
 anxious. 
 
 "I shall never forget it. The freshmen were 
 sent into the recitation room to confer with Profes- 
 sor Duke about text-books, etc. Carol was one of 
 the first in the line, as they came out. She sat down 
 in her seat in the first aisle, with one foot out at 
 the side. One of the boys tripped over it. 'Carol,' 
 said Miss Adams gently, 'you forgot yourself, 
 didn't you ?' And Carol's eyes twinkled as she said, 
 *0h, no. Miss Adams, if I had I'd still be in the 
 
THE TWINS 11$ 
 
 recitation room.' " Miss Allen laughed, but Pru- 
 dence's eyes were agonized. 
 
 "How hateful of her I" 
 
 "Don't the twins tell you little things that happen 
 at school, — ^like that, for instance?" 
 
 "Never! I supposed they were perfectly all 
 right." 
 
 "Well, here's another. Twice a week we have 
 talks on First Aid to the Injured. Professor Duke 
 conducts them. One day he asked Carol what she 
 would do if she had a very severe cold, and Carol 
 said, 'I'd soak my feet in hot water and go to bed. 
 My sister makes me.' " Miss Allen laughed again, 
 but Prudence was speechless. 
 
 "Sometimes we have talks on normal work, prac- 
 tical informal discussions. Many of our scholars 
 will be country school-teachers, you know. Miss 
 Adams conducts these normal hours. One day she 
 asked Carol what she would do if she had applied 
 for a school, and was asked by the directors to write 
 a thesis on student discipline, that they might judge 
 of her and her ability by it? Carol said, 'I'd get 
 Lark to write it for me.' " 
 
 Even Prudence laughed a little at this, but she 
 said, "Why don't you scold her?" 
 
1.14 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "We talked it all over shortly after she entered 
 school. Miss Adams did not understand Carol at 
 first, and thought she was a little impertinent. But 
 Professor Duke and I stood firm against even men- 
 tioning it to her. She is perfectly good-natured 
 about it. You know, of course, Miss Starr, that 
 we really try to make individuals of our scholars. 
 So many, many hundreds are turned out of the 
 public schools all cut on one pattern. We do not 
 like it. We fight against it. Carol is different from 
 others by nature, and we're going to keep her dif- 
 ferent if possible. If we crush her individuality, 
 she will come out just like thousands of others, — 
 all one pattern! Miss Adams is as fond of Carol 
 now as any one of us. You understand that we 
 could not let impudence or impertinence pass unre- 
 proved, but Carol is never guilty of that. She is 
 always respectful and courteous. But she is spon- 
 taneous and quick-witted, and we are glad of it. 
 Do you know what the scholars call Professor 
 Duke?" 
 
 "Professor Duck," said Prudence humbly. "But 
 they mean it for a tompliment. They really admire 
 and like him very much. I hope he does not know 
 what they call him." 
 
THE TWINS 115 
 
 "He does! One day he was talking about the 
 nobility system in England. He explained the dif- 
 ference between dukes, and earls, and lords, etc., and 
 told them who is to be addressed as Your Majesty, 
 Your Highness, Your Grace and so on. Then he 
 said, 'Now, Carol, if I was the king's eldest son, 
 what would you call me?' And Carol said, 'I'd 
 still call you a Duck, Professor, — it wouldn't make 
 any difference to me.' " 
 
 Prudence could only sigh. 
 
 "One other time he was illustrating phenomena. 
 He explained the idea, and tried to get one of the 
 boys to mention the word, — ^phenomenon, you 
 know. The boy couldn't think of it. Professor 
 gave three or four illustrations, and still the boy 
 couldn't remember it. 'Oh, come now,' professor 
 said, finally, 'something unusual, something very 
 much out of the ordinary! Suppose you should 
 see a blackbird running a race down the street with 
 a sparrow, what would you call it?' The boy 
 couldn't imagine, and professor said, 'What would 
 you call that, Carol ?' Carol said, 'A bad dream.' " 
 
 Prudence smiled wearily. 
 
 "Sometimes we have discussions of moral points. 
 We take turns about conducting them, and try to 
 
116 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 stimulate their interest in such things. We want to 
 make them think, every one for himself. One day- 
 Professor Duke said, 'Suppose a boy in this town 
 has a grydge against you, — unjust and unfair. You 
 have tried one thing after another to change his 
 attitude. But he continues to annoy and inconve- 
 nience and even hurt you, on every occasion. Re- 
 member that you have tried every ordinary way of 
 winning his good will. Now what are you going 
 to do as a last resort?' Carol said, 'I'll tell papa 
 on him.' " Miss Allen laughed again, heartily. "It 
 does have a disturbing effect on the class, I admit, 
 and often spoils a good point, but Professor Duke 
 calls on Carol every time he sees her eyes twinkle ! 
 He does it on purpose. And Miss Adams is nearly 
 as bad as he. One day she said, 'Suppose you have 
 unintentionally done something to greatly irritate 
 and inconvenience a prominent man in town. He 
 knows you did it, and he is very angry. He is a 
 man of sharp temper and disagreeable manners. 
 You know that he will be extremely unpleasant and 
 insulting if you go to him with explanations and 
 apologies. What are you going to do?' 'I think 
 I'll just keep out of his way for a few weeks,' said 
 Carol soberly." 
 
THE TWINS 117 
 
 "I hope she doesn't talk like that to you, Miss 
 Allen." 
 
 Instantly Miss Allen was grave. "No, she does 
 not, I am so sorry." Leaning forward suddenly, 
 she said, "Miss Starr, why do the twins dislike 
 me?" 
 
 "Dislike you !" echoed Prudence. "Why, they do 
 not dislike you! What in the world makes you 
 think " 
 
 "Oh, yes indeed they do, — ^both of them. Now, 
 why? People generally like me. I have always 
 been popular with my students. This is my sec- 
 ond year here. Last year the whole high school 
 stood by me as one man. This year, the freshmen 
 started as usual. After one week, the twins 
 changed. I knew it instantly. Then other fresh- 
 men changed. Now the whole class comes as near 
 snubbing me as they dare. Do you mean to say 
 they have never told you about it?" 
 
 "Indeed they have not. And I am sure you are 
 mistaken. They do like you. They like every- 
 body." 
 
 "Christian tolerance, perhaps," smiled Miss Allen 
 ruefully. "But I want them to like me personally 
 and intimately. I can help the twins. I can do 
 
118 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 them good, I know I can. But they won't let me. 
 They keep me at arm's length. They are both dear, 
 and I love them. But they freeze me to death! 
 Why?" 
 
 "I can't believe it!" 
 
 "But it is true. Don't they talk of their profes- 
 sors at home at all?" 
 
 "Oh, often." 
 
 "What do they say of us ?" 
 
 "Why, they say Miss Adams is a perfectly sweet 
 old lamb, — they do not mean to be disrespectful. 
 And they say Professor Duke is the dearest duck! 
 They almost swear by 'Professor Duck'l" 
 
 "And what do they say of me?" 
 
 Prudence hesitated, thinking hard. 
 
 "Come now, what do they say? We must get 
 to the bottom of this." 
 
 "Why, they have said that you are very pretty, 
 and most unbelievably smart." 
 
 "Oh ! Quite a difference between sweet old lamb, 
 and the dearest duck, and being very pretty and 
 smart! Do you see it?" 
 
 "Yes," confessed Prudence reluctantly, "but I 
 hadn't thought of it before." 
 
 "Now, what is wrong? What have I done? 
 
THE TWINS 119 
 
 Why, look here. The twins think everything of 
 Professor Duke, and I am sure Carol deliberately 
 neglects her science lessons in order to be kept in 
 after school by him. But though she hates mathcv 
 matics, — ^my subject, — she works at it desperately 
 so I can't keep her in. She sits on Mr. Duke's table 
 and chats with him by the hour. But she passes 
 me up with a curt, 'Gkjod night. Miss Allen.' " 
 
 "And Larkie, too?" 
 
 "Lark is worse than Carol. Her dislike is 
 deeper-seated. I believe I could win Carol in time. 
 Sometimes I waylay her when she is leaving after 
 school, and try my best. But just as she begins to 
 thaw. Lark invariably comes up to see if she is 
 ready to go home, and she looks at both of us with 
 superior icy eyes. And Carol freezes in a second. 
 Ordinarily, she looks at me with a sort of sympa- 
 thetic pity and wonder, but Lark is always haughty 
 and nearly contemptuous. It is different with the 
 rest of the class. It is nothing important to them. 
 The twins are popular in the class, you know, and 
 the others, realizing that they dislike me, hold aloof 
 on their account." 
 
 "I can't fathom it," said Prudence. 
 
 ' "Now, Professor Duke is very brilliant and clever 
 
120 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 and interesting. And he does like Carol tremeni 
 dously, — Larkie, too. He says she is the cleverest 
 girl he ever knew. But Carol is his favorite. But 
 he does not like teaching, and he has not the real 
 interests of the scholars at heart. Next year, he is 
 to begin some very wonderful research work at a 
 big salary. That is what he loves. That is where 
 his interests lie. But this year, being idle, and his 
 uncle being on the school board here, he accepted 
 this place as a sort of vacation in the meanwhile. 
 That is all it means to him. But I love teaching, 
 it is my life-work. I love the young people, and I 
 want to help them. Why won't the twins give me 
 a chance? Surely I am as attractive as Professor 
 Duke. They are even fond of Miss Adams, whom 
 most people consider rather a sour old maid. But 
 they have no use for me. I want you to find out 
 the reason, and tell me. Will you do it? They 
 will tell you if you ask them, won't they?" 
 
 "I think so. It is partly my fault. I am very 
 strict with them about saying hateful things about 
 people. I do not allow it. And I insist that they like 
 everybody, — if they don't, I make them. So they 
 have just kept it to themselves. But I will do my 
 best." 
 
THE TWINS 121 
 
 One would have thought that Prudence carried 
 the responsibility for the entire public-school system 
 of the United States upon her shoulders that night, 
 so anxious were her eyes, so grave her face. Supper 
 over, she quietly suggested to Fairy that she would 
 appreciate the absence of herself and Connie for a 
 time. And Fairy instantly realized that the twins 
 must be dealt with seriously for something. So 
 she went in search of Connie, and the two set out 
 for a long walk. Then Prudence went to the 
 kitchen where the twins were washing the dishes, 
 and as usual, laughing immoderately over some- 
 thing. 
 
 Prudence sat down and leaned her elbows on the 
 table, her chin in her palms. "I met Miss Allen 
 to-day," she said, closely observing the faces of the 
 twins. A significant glance flashed between them, 
 and they stiffened instantly. 
 
 "She's very pretty and sweet, isn't she?" contin- 
 ued Prudence. 
 
 "Yes, very," agreed Lark without any enthusi- 
 asm. 
 
 "Such pretty hair," added Carol dispassionately. 
 
 "She must be very popular with the scholars," 
 suggested Prudence, 
 
122 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Yes, most of them are fond of her," assented 
 Lark. 
 
 "She has rather winsome manners, I think," said 
 Carol. 
 
 "Which of your professors do you like best?" 
 queried Prudence. 
 
 "Duck," they answered unanimously, and with 
 brightening faces. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because he is a duck," said Carol, and they all 
 laughed. But Prudence returned to the charge with- 
 out delay. 
 
 "Do you like Miss Allen?" She was going 
 through these questions with such solemnity that 
 the twins' suspicions had been aroused right at the 
 start. What had Miss Allen told their sister ? Again 
 that significant flash from twin to twin. 
 
 "She certainly has very likeable ways," said Lark 
 shrewdly. 
 
 "But do you like her?" insisted Prudence. 
 
 "I would like her very much under ordinary cir- 
 cumstances," admitted Carol. 
 
 "What is unusual about the circumstances?" 
 Prudence wanted to know. 
 
 "Look here, Prudence, what did Miss Allen tell 
 
THE TWINS 123 
 
 you ? Was she complaining about us ? We've been 
 very nice and orderly, I'm sure." Lark was ag- 
 grieved. 
 
 "She wasn't complaining. She likes you both. 
 But she says you do not like her. I want to know 
 why." 
 
 "Well, if you must know, Miss Allen is a here- 
 tic," snapped Lark. 
 
 Then Prudence leaned back in her chair and 
 gazed at the flushed faces of the twins for two full 
 minutes. 
 
 "A — a — a what ?" she ejaculated, when power of 
 speech returned to her. 
 
 "Heretic," said Carol with some relish. "A here- 
 tic! You know what heresy is, don't you? We'll 
 tell you all about it if you like, now you've got 
 things started." 
 
 "We didn't tell you before because we thought 
 you and father would feel badly about sending us 
 to school to a heretic. But don't you worry, — Miss 
 Allen hasn't influenced us any." 
 
 "We haven't given her a chance," said Carol, 
 with her impish smile. 
 
 "Go on," begged Prudence. "Tell me. ^ou're 
 both crazy, I see that. But tell me!" 
 
124 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Well," began Lark, for Carol always relegated 
 the story-telling to her more gifted twin, "we've 
 suspected Miss Allen right from the start. They 
 used to have Bible reading every morning in school, 
 one chapter, you know, and then the Lord's prayer. 
 After the first week. Miss Allen dropped it. We 
 thought that was a — a suspicious circumstance." 
 
 "Phenomenally so," said Carol darkly. 
 
 "But we kept our suspicions to ourselves, and we 
 didn't come across anything else for several days. 
 We wouldn't condemn anybody on — on circumstan- 
 tial evidence, Prue. We're very fair-minded, you 
 know." 
 
 "In spite of being twins," added Carol. 
 
 "What's that got to do with it?" Prudence in- 
 quired, frowning at Carol. 
 
 "Oh, nothing," admitted Carol, driven into a 
 corner. "I just wanted to make it emphatic." 
 
 "Go on. Lark." 
 
 "Well, there's a girl at school named Hattie 
 Simpson. You do not know her, Prue. We don't 
 associate with her. Oh, yes, we like her very well, 
 but she isn't parsonage material." 
 
 "She's a goat," put in Carol. "You needn't 
 frown, Prue, that's Bible! Don't you remember 
 
THE TWINS 125 
 
 the sheep and the goats? I don't know now just 
 what it was they did, but I know the goats were 
 very — ^very disreputable characters!" 
 
 "Go on, Lark." 
 
 "Well, her folks are atheists, and she's an 
 atheist, too. You know what an atheist is, don't 
 you? You know, Prue, Mount Mark is a very 
 religious town, on account of the Presbyterian, 
 College, and all, and it seems the Simpsons are 
 the only atheists here. Hattie says people look 
 down on her terribly because of it. She says the 
 church folks consider them, the Simpsons, that is, 
 the dust on their shoes, and the crumbs off the rich 
 man's table. She got that terribly mixed up, but I 
 didn't correct her." 
 
 "I think she did very well for an atheist," said 
 Carol, determined not to be totally overlooked in 
 this discussion. 
 
 "What has all this to do with Miss Allen?" 
 
 "Well, one day Hattie was walking home from 
 school with us, and she was telling us about it, — 
 the dust on their shoes, etc., — ^and she said she 
 liked Miss Allen better than anybody else in town. 
 I asked why. She said Miss Allen believed the same 
 things the Simpsons believe, only Miss Allen daretft 
 
126 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 say so publicly, or they would put her out of the 
 school. She said Miss Allen said that most phurch 
 members were hypocrites and drunkards and — ^and 
 just generally bad, and the ones outside the church 
 are nearly always good and moral and kind. She 
 said Miss Allen joined the Presbyterian church here 
 because most of the school board are Presbyterians. 
 She said Miss Allen said she didn't care if people 
 were Catholics or Jews or atheists or — or just 
 ordinary Christians, so long as they were kind to 
 one another, and went about the world doing good 
 works. And that's why Miss Allen wouldn't read 
 the Bible and say the Lord's prayer in school." 
 
 "What do you think of that?" demanded Carol. 
 "Isn't that heresy ? She's as bad as the priest and 
 Levite, isn't she?" 
 
 "Did you ask Miss Allen about it?" 
 
 "No, indeed, we've just ignored Miss Allen ever 
 since. We have watched her as closely as we 
 could since then, to see if we could catch her up 
 again. Of course she has to be careful what she 
 says in school, but we found several strong points 
 against her. It's a perfectly plain case, no doubt 
 about it." 
 
 "And so you went among the other freshmen 
 
THE TWINS 127 
 
 influencing them, and telling tales, and criticizing 
 your " 
 
 "No mdeed, Prue, we wouldn't ! But you know 
 it says in the Bible to beware of false doctrines and 
 the sowers of bad seed, — or something like that — " 
 
 "And we bewared as hard as we could !" grinned 
 Carol, 
 
 "We have tried to explain these things to the 
 other freshmen so Miss Allen could not lead them 
 into — into error. Oh, that's Christian Science, 
 isn't it? Well, Minnie Carlson is a Christian Scien- 
 tist and she talks so much about falling into error 
 that — ^honestly " 
 
 "We can't tell error from truth any more," in- 
 terjected Carol neatly. "And so I hope you won't 
 punish us if we accidentally vary from the truth 
 once in a while." 
 
 This was quite beyond Prudence's depth. She 
 knew little of Christian Science save that it was a 
 widely accepted creed of recent origin. So she 
 brought the twins back to Miss Allen again. "But, 
 twins, do you think it was kind, and Christian, and 
 — ^and like parsonage girls, to accept all this against 
 Miss' Allen without giving her a chance to defend 
 herself?" 
 
128 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "As I told you, Prue, we have watched her very 
 close since then. She has never come right out 
 in the open, — she wouldn't dare, — ^but she has given 
 herself away several times. Nothing can get by 
 us when we're on the watch, you know!" 
 
 Prudence knew. "What did Miss Allen say ?" 
 
 The twins thought seriously for a while. 
 
 "Oh, yes, Lark," suggested Carol finally, "don't 
 you remember she said the Bible was an allegory?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Yes, she did. She was explaining to the Eng- 
 lish class what was meant by allegory, and she said 
 the purpose of using allegory was to teach an im- 
 portant truth in a homely impressive way that could 
 be remembered. She mentioned several prominent 
 allegories, and said the Bible was one. And you 
 know yourself Prue, that the Bible is Gospel truth, 
 and — I mean, it is so! I mean " 
 
 "What she means," said Lark helpfully, "is that 
 the Bible is not just a pretty way of teaching peo- 
 ple to be good, but it's solid fact cleg,r through." 
 
 "That's very well expressed. Lark," — Prudence 
 herself could not have expressed it half so well! 
 "But how do you twins understand all these things 
 so thoroughly?" 
 
THE TWINS 129 
 
 "Oh, you know Mrs. Sears is our Sunday-school 
 teacher, and she's always hot on the trail of the 
 higher critics and heretics. She explained all about 
 the — the nefarious system to us one Sunday. She 
 says the higher critics try to explain away the 
 Bible by calling it allegory. So we were ready for 
 Miss Allen there. And whenever anything came up 
 at school, we would ask Mrs. Sears about it on Sun- 
 day, — without mentioning names of course. She's 
 very much gratified that we are so much interested 
 in such things. She thinks we're sure to be dea- 
 conesses, at the very least. But Carol said she 
 wouldn't be a deaconess, — she was going to be a 
 Red Cross nurse and go to war. That stumped 
 Mrs. Sears for a while, and then she said we could 
 be Red Cross Deaconess nurses." 
 
 "I won't," said Carol, "because the deaconess 
 uniforms aren't as stylish as the Red Cross nurses'. 
 I think I'll look pretty fine in a white uniform with 
 a stiff little cap and a red cross on my arm. Red 
 crosses make a very pretty decoration, don't you 
 think they do, Lark?" 
 
 "What else did Miss Allen say at school ?" Pru- 
 dence demanded, leading the twins back to the sub- 
 ject. 
 
130 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Well, one day she said, — ^you know she gives 
 uplifting little moral talks quite often, Prue. Some- 
 times she tells us stories with inspiring points. She's 
 really a moral person, I believe." 
 
 "And I'm honestly sorry she's a heretic," said 
 Carol, "for I do want to be friendly enough with 
 her to ask if she uses anything on her complexion 
 to keep it so rose-leafy. If she does, I'll have some 
 of it, if it takes all my next year's clothes !" 
 
 Lark laughed. "A rose-leaf complexion will be a 
 poor substitute for " 
 
 "Oh, for goodness' sake, twins, come back to 
 Miss Allen. I am going right up to her house this 
 minute, to ask her about it, and explain " 
 
 "She's the one to do the explaining, seems to 
 me," said Carol belligerently. "We've got to stick 
 up for the Bible, Prue, — it's our business." 
 
 "And I don't think you should tell her, — 
 it may hurt her feelings," urged Lark. 
 
 "Have heretics feelings?" queried Carol. "I' 
 suppose it's a feeling of " 
 
 "Carol ! Will you quit talking for a minute ! This 
 is a serious matter. If she believes all that non- 
 sense, she's no proper teacher and — and she'll have 
 
THE TWINS 131 
 
 to be put out of the high school. And if she doesn't 
 believe it, she's a martyr! I'm going to find out 
 about it at once. Do you want to come with me?" 
 
 "I should say not," said the twins promptly. 
 
 "I think you're very foolish to go at all," added 
 Lark. 
 
 "I wouldn't go for a dollar," declared Carol. "It'd 
 be very interesting to see how a heretic feels, but I 
 don't care to know how ordinary Christians feel 
 when they fall into their hands. I'm not aching 
 to see Miss Allen to-night." 
 
 So Prudence set forth, conscientiously, in the 
 darkness. A brave and heroic thing for Prudence 
 to do, for she was a cowardly creature at heart. 
 
 Miss Allen heard her voice in the lower hall, and 
 came running down-stairs to meet her. "Come up," 
 she cried eagerly, "come on up." 
 
 And before Prudence was fairly inside the door, 
 she demanded, "What is it? Did you find out? 
 Is it my fault?" 
 
 Then Prudence blushed and stammered, "Why — 
 it sounds — silly but — they think you are a — 
 heretic." 
 
 Miss Allen gasped. Then she laughed. Then 
 
132 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 she walked to her dressing-table and picked up a 
 long hatpin. "Will you kindly jab this into me?" 
 she said. "I'm having a nightmare." 
 
 Prudence explained in detail. At first Miss 
 Allen laughed, it must be confessed. Then she 
 grew very sober. "It is really my fault," she said, 
 "for I should have remembered that young people 
 read a ton of meaning into a pound of words. Of 
 course, I am not guilty, Miss Starr. Professor 
 Duke and Miss Adams can swear to that. They 
 call me Goody-goody. They say I am an old- 
 fashioned apostle, and they accuse me of wanting 
 to burn them both at the stake ! Now, sit down and 
 let me explain." 
 
 Prudence sat down. She was glad, so glad, that 
 this sweet-faced, bright-eyed woman was an "or- 
 dinary Christian," and not a "priest and a Levite !" 
 
 "About the allegory business, it is very simple. 
 What I said was this, — 'The Bible is full of al- 
 legory.' I did not say, 'The Bible is allegory.' I 
 said the Bible is full of allegory, and so it is. The 
 parables, for instance, — what are they? Do you 
 see the difference? — But it is really more serious 
 about poor little Hattie Simpson. As the twins 
 told you, her parents are atheists. Her father is 
 
THE TWINS 133 
 
 a loud-voiced, bragging, boastful, coarse-hearted 
 fellow. Hattie herself does not know what her 
 parents believe, and what they do not. She simply 
 follows blindly after them. She thinks she is an 
 eyesore in Mount Mark because of it. She resents 
 it bitterly, but she feels the only decent thing for 
 her to do is to stand by her folks. Let me tell you 
 about our conversation. I tried to make friends 
 with her, for I truly pity her. She has no friends, 
 she slinks about as though constantly ashamed of 
 herself. She trusts no one, herself least of all. I 
 tried to draw her out, and with partial success. She 
 told me how she feels about it all. I said, 'Hattie, 
 won't you let some one — some minister, who knows 
 how — tell you about Christianity, and explain to 
 you what Christians really believe?" 'No,' she^ 
 said passionately, 'I'll stand by my folks.' Then I 
 saw she was not ready yet. I said, 'Well, perhaps 
 it is just as well for the present, for you are too 
 young now to take any definite stand for yourself. 
 It is true,' I told her, 'that many church members 
 are not Christians, and are bad immoral people, — 
 as your father says. They are not Christians. And 
 it is true that many outside of the church are good 
 moral people, — ^but they are not Christians, either.' 
 
134 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 And then I said, 'Don't worry your head just now 
 about whether people are Catholics or Jews or 
 Christians, or what they are. Just try to love every- 
 body, and try to grow up to be such a sweet, kind, 
 loving woman that you will be a blessing to the 
 world. And what is more,' I said, 'do not puzzle 
 your head now about why some believe the Bible, 
 and some do not. Just wait. When you are older, 
 you shall go into things for yourself, and make 
 your own decision.' " 
 
 Prudence nodded. "I think you were very sweet 
 about it," she said. 
 
 "I wanted to win her confidence in the hope that 
 some time, a little later, I myself may show her 
 what Christ is to us, and why we love the Bible. 
 But I did fight shy of the real point, for fear I 
 might anger her and put a barrier between us. I 
 just tried to win her confidence and her love, to 
 pave the way for what I may be able to do later 
 on. Do you see? I have had several talks with 
 her, but she is not ready. She is just a child, stub- 
 bornly determined to stand with her folks, right or 
 wrong. I am trying now to cultivate the ground. 
 I say nothing to make her dislike or distrust me. 
 
THE TWINS 13s 
 
 I did not thinK of her telling it to others, — ^and tell- 
 ing it wrong! Surely no one but the twins could 
 have read so much into it !" 
 
 "Well," and Prudence smiled, "you know we are 
 parsonage people! We have to stick up for the 
 Bible, as Carol says." 
 
 "Oh, and about the Bible reading," said Miss 
 Allen suddenly, "I have nothing to do with that. 
 As you know, there are Jews and Catholics and 
 Christian Scientists and every branch of Protestant 
 represented in our little school. The Jews and 
 Christian Scientists are in a minority. The Jews 
 have always objected to Bible reading, but they 
 were too few to be influential. With a Catholic 
 teacher, the Catholics were quite willing to have it. 
 With a Protestant teacher, the Protestants were 
 strong for it. But there was always friction — 
 one side objecting— so the school board ruled it 
 out entirely. I did not explain this to the scholars. 
 I did not want our young people to know of the 
 petty bickering and scrapping going on among the 
 elders in the town. So I simply ^aid that hereafter 
 we would dispense with the Bible reading. But it 
 was the direct order of the board. I argued against 
 
136 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 it, so did Professor Duke, so did Miss Adams. But 
 as it happens, we are all three Presbyterians ! It did 
 no good." 
 
 Then as Prudence rose to go home, she asked 
 eagerly, "Do you think the twins will like me now ?" 
 
 "I don't see how in the world they can help it," 
 declared Prudence, smiling; "indeed, they admitted 
 they were only too anxious to love you, but couldn't 
 honestly do so because they had to stick up for the 
 Bible ! I am so glad and relieved ! This is the first 
 time I have gone heresy-hunting, and I was quite 
 bowed down with the weight of it. And if ever t 
 can help with poor little Hattie, will you let me 
 know? I must have the twins invite her to spend 
 some Saturday with us. That's the way I make 
 the girls like people, — ^by being with them a great, 
 great deal." 
 
 Just before she said good night. Prudence mur- 
 mured hopefully, "I am sorry it happened, but it 
 will be a good lesson for the twins. I am sure that 
 after this, they will be less ready to listen to gossip, 
 and more ready to give one the benefit of a doubt. 
 It's a great responsibility, this raising a family, 
 Miss Allen — and especially twins!" 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 AN ADMIRER 
 
 IT MUST be remembered that Prudence did not 
 live in a sheltered and exclusive city home, 
 where girls are rigidly withheld from all un- 
 chaperoned intercourse with young men and old. 
 We know how things are managed in the "best 
 homes" of the big cities, — girls are sheltered from 
 innocent open things, and, too often, indulge in 
 really serious amusements on the quiet. But this 
 was the Middle West, where girls are to be trusted. 
 Not all girls, of course, but as a matter of fact, the 
 girls who need watching, seldom get enough of it to 
 keep them out of mischief. Out in Iowa, girls and 
 boys are allowed to like each other, and revel in 
 each other's company. And it is good for both. 
 
 Prudence was not a sentimental girl. Perhaps 
 this was partly due to the fact that at the age when 
 most girls are head-full of boy. Prudence was hands- 
 full of younger sisters! And when hands are full 
 to overflowing, there is small likelihood of heads 
 
 137 
 
138 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 being full of nonsense. Prudence liked boys as she 
 liked girls, — ^that was the end of it. Romance was 
 to her a closed book, and she felt no inclination to 
 peep between the covers. Soul-stirring had not 
 come to her yet. 
 
 But Prudence was attractive. She had that in- 
 describable charm that carries a deep appeal to the 
 eyes, and the lips, and the hearts of men. Hap- 
 pily Prudence herself did not realize this. The 
 first young man of Mount Mark to yield to the 
 charms of Prudence was a serious-minded lawyer, 
 nearly ten years her senior. This was just the 
 type of man to become enraptured with Prudence. 
 He gazed across at her solemnly during the church 
 service. He waited patiently after the benediction 
 until she finished her Methodist practise of hand- 
 shaking, and then walked joyously home with 
 her. He said little, but he gazed in frank enchant- 
 ment at the small womanly girl beside him. 
 
 "He's not half bad. Fairy," Prudence would con- 
 fide to her sister when they were snug in their bed. 
 "He's not half bad at all. But at heart, he doesn't 
 approve of me. He doesn't know that himself, 
 and I certainly can't believe it is my duty to tell 
 him. But I am convinced that it is true. For in- 
 
AN ADMIRER 139 
 
 stance, he thinks every one, especially women, should 
 have a mission in life, a serious, earnest mission. 
 I told him I didn't believe anything of the kind, — 
 I think vi^e are just supposed to live along from 
 day to day and do what we can, and be happy, and 
 not say mean things about one another. But he 
 said he considered that I <was fulfilling the noblest 
 mission a woman could have. Now what do you 
 reckon he meant by that. Fairy ? I've been puzzling 
 my brain over it for days and days. Anybody 
 can tell I am not the sort of girl to have a mission ! 
 Maybe he just said it to encourage me, — he's a very 
 encouraging sort of man. He's very nice, — oh, 
 very nice, indeed! But isn't it a nuisance to have 
 him tagging along home with me, when I might be 
 having such a good time with you and the twins, 
 or father? Can a girl tell a man she prefers to go 
 home with her family, without hurting his feelings ? 
 Is there any way to turn a person down without 
 letting him know it? He's so nice I wouldn't hurt 
 his feelings for anything, but — it's such a bother! 
 I'm too young for beaus, and since I'm never go- 
 ing to get married it's just a waste of time." 
 
 And Fairy screamed with laughter, but told Pru- 
 dence she must solve her own love problems I And 
 
140 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Prudence, unwilling to give offense, and preferring 
 self-sacrifice, endured his company until a gay 
 young college lad slipped in ahead of him. "First 
 come, first served," was the motto of heartless Pru- 
 dence, and so she tripped comfortably away with 
 "Jimmy," laughing at his silly college stories, and 
 never thinking to give more than a parting smile 
 at the solemn face she left behind. 
 
 After Jimmy came a grocery clerk named Byron 
 Poe Smith, and after him somebody else, and some- 
 body else, and somebody else. And Prudence con- 
 tinued to laugh, and thought it "awfully amusing. 
 Fairy, but I keep wondering what you and the 
 twins are laughing about!" 
 
 But it was Fairy herself who brought a real 
 disturbing element into the life of Prudence. One 
 of the lightest-minded of the many light-minded 
 college men, had been deeply smitten by the charms 
 of dignified Fairy. He walked with her, and talked 
 with her, — this young man was a great deal of a 
 talker, as so pathetically many college men are ! He 
 planned many little expeditions and entertainments 
 for her amusement, and his own happiness. His 
 name was Eugene Babler. 
 
 "Oh, he talks a lot," said Fairy coolly, "but he 
 
AN ADMIRER 141 
 
 certainly shows one a good time, and that's the 
 point, you know !" 
 
 She came in from college one afternoon and rat- 
 tled off this little tale to Prudence. 
 
 "A few of us were on the campus to-day, and 
 we decided to go down the creek to-morrow after- 
 noon and take our suppers. There'll be Ellen Stark, 
 and Georgia Prentiss, and myself. And the boys 
 will be Tom Angell, '^d Frank Morris, and Eugene 
 Babler. And Professor Rayburn was there when 
 we were talking- about it, and so we asked him to 
 go along, but we told him he must take a girl. 
 And he said, 'I wonder if your sister wouldn't 
 go ? I have only met her once, but perhaps on your 
 
 recommendation, Miss Fairy ' and he paused 
 
 with his breath in the air, inquiringly. So I said, 
 'Do you mean Prudence, or one of the twins ?' He 
 smiled very kindly and said, 'I mean Prudence.' I 
 said I was sure you would go, and so you'll have to 
 do it. It's a great honor, Prue, for all the upper- 
 class girls, and even the unmarried women on the 
 Fac. are crazy about him. He's so aloof, you know, 
 and very intelligent. I swelled with pride at the 
 public tribute to the parsonage !" 
 
 "Professor Rayburn ! Of the Fac. !" gasped 
 
142 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Prudence. "Oh, I'm sure he didn't mean me, Fairy. 
 You must have misunderstood him. Why, I 
 wouldn't know what to say to a professor, you 
 know! What is his line?" 
 
 "Bugs!" cried Fairy. "He's the biology maa 
 And this is his first year here, and he's very bril- 
 liant, — they say! I'm no authority on bugs my- 
 self. But anyhow every one just raves about him, 
 and he showed very plainly that he was anxious 
 to get acquainted with you, so you'll have to go." 
 
 "But bugs!" wailed Prudence. "What do I 
 known about bugs ! Will he expect me to know how 
 to divide them, — separate them, you know — " 
 
 "I suppose you mean dissect them, you poor 
 child," screamed Fairy. "Divide bugs! If pro- 
 fessor could hear you now, Prue, he would be sadly 
 disillusioned. You must just trot up-stairs and 
 get one of the twins' biology books and cram up a 
 little. He won't expect you to be an advanced 
 buggist. He can give you points himself. Men 
 do love to have girls appeal to their superior knowl- , 
 edge, and be admiring and deferent. Maybe he will 
 'divide one' for you if you ask him 'please.' " 
 
 "I won't do it," declared Prudence. "I don't 
 like bugs anyhow, and — why, the very pictures of 
 
AN ADMIRER 143 
 
 them in the twins' books make me nervous. I won't 
 do it. You can just tell him I don't feel qualified 
 to go." 
 
 "You've got to go," said Fairy sternly, "for I 
 said you would, and he's counting on it. He's 
 going to phone you this afternoon and ask you him- 
 self. You've got to go." 
 
 At that instant, the telephone rang. 
 
 "There's professor !" cried Fairy. "You tell him 
 you are just delighted to go, and that you are so 
 interested in bugs!" 
 
 With a flushed face, Prudence took down the re- 
 ceiver. "Hello," she said, "this is the parsonage." 
 
 And then, a second later, she said, "Yes, this is 
 Prudence." 
 
 After that she stood silent for some little time, 
 with Fairy crouched beside her, trying to hear. 
 
 Then spoke Prudence. "Yes, Fairy has been 
 telling me. And it's very kind of you, indeed, and 
 I know I would enjoy it. But as I was telling 
 Fairy, I don't know a thing about bugs, and I don't 
 like them anyhow, so I'm afraid you would find 
 me rather stupid." 
 
 Fairy was striving to get a hand over her sis- 
 ter's lips to stem the words, but Prudence eluded 
 
144 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 her. They were both somewhat astounded at the 
 great peal of laughter which came over the tele- 
 phone. 
 
 "Good! That's just what I was hoping for! You 
 couldn't have said anything that would give me 
 greater pleasure. Then shall I come around with 
 Babler, for you and your sister, about one o'clock? 
 — Oh, that is very kind of you. Miss Starr. Good- 
 by! Don't cultivate an interest in bugs between 
 now and to-morrow, for my sake!" 
 
 The girls looked at each other doubtfully when 
 the receiver was once more on its hook. 
 
 "I'm afraid he's laughing at me," said Prudence 
 questioningly. 
 
 "I should hope so," cried Fairy. "What in the 
 world did you say that for? Couldn't you have 
 pretended to be interested? Professor likes women 
 to be dignified and intellectual and deep, and " 
 
 "Then why on earth did he ask me to go?" de- 
 manded Prudence. "Any one could tell to look at 
 me that I'm not dignified and intellectual and deep, 
 and " 
 
 "And I know he admired you, for he was so 
 eager when he asked about you. Think how grand 
 
AN ADMIRER 145 
 
 it would be to speak of 'my sister, Mrs. Professor 
 Rayburn,' and " 
 
 "Don't be silly, Fairy. If I was going to marry 
 anybody, which I am not, I hope you do not think 
 for one minute that I'd marry a buggist! Gracious! 
 Goodness ! I've a notion not to go a step ! I'll call 
 him up 'and " 
 
 But Fairy only laughed. 
 
 And after all. Prudence looked forward to the 
 little outing in the glorious October woods with 
 eager anticipation. It was seldom indeed that 
 she indulged in merry-making away from the 
 parsonage. Yet she was fond of gaiety. Long 
 before one o'clock on that eventful day, she was 
 ready. And her face was so bright, and her eyes 
 so starry, that placid self-satisfied Fairy felt a 
 twinge of something like envy. 
 
 "You look like a creature from another world, 
 Prue," she said. "If Professor Rayburn has any 
 sense in his bones, he will fall dead in love with 
 you,— bugs or no bugs!" 
 
 "People do not have sense in their bones, Fairy, 
 and — and — shall I say professor, or just plain Mis- 
 ter?" 
 
146 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Professor, I suppose, — every one calls him pro- 
 fessor." 
 
 "Then I shall say Mister," said Prudence. "It 
 will be so hard to enjoy anyself if I keep remem- 
 bering that he teaches bugs ! I might as well be at 
 school. I shall say Mister." 
 
 And she did say "Mister," and she said it so 
 sweetly, and looked up into Professor Raybum's 
 face so brightly, and with happiness so evident and 
 so girlish, that the staid professor felt a quick un- 
 accountable throbbing down somewhere beneath his 
 coat. He did look eager! There was no doubt of 
 it. And he looked at Prudence, continuously. 
 
 "Just like ordinary men, isn't he?" whispered 
 Fairy to Eugene Babler, — called "Babbie," for short 
 and for humiliation, — for he enjoyed the reputation 
 of being a "talker" even among college men ! 
 
 The three young couples struck ofif briskly down 
 the road, creek-ward, and Prudence followed se- 
 dately with her professor. 
 
 "Fairy says it was perfectly disgusting of me 
 to tell you I didn't know anything about bugs," she 
 said comfortably. "But I thought maybe you were 
 one of those professors who like one thing so much 
 they can't be interested in anything else. And I 
 
AN ADMIRER 147 
 
 wanted to warn you. But I guess you aren't that 
 kind, after all?" 
 
 "Oh, no, indeed," he assured her fervently, look- 
 ing deep into her blue eyes. "I like bugs, it is true. 
 But really I like other things, one thing at least, 
 much better." 
 
 "Is it a riddle?" she inquired. "Am I supposed 
 to guess?" 
 
 "It isn't a riddle, but you may guess. Think 
 hard, now ! It's a serious matter. Please don't say 
 'food.' " 
 
 "If I get below seventy will I be put down a 
 grade?" she asked. Then with intense solemnity, 
 "I guess girls." 
 
 They laughed together, youthfully. "You are 
 right," he said. . 
 
 And with a sigh of relief. Prudence answered, 
 "That's the first time I ever got a hiindred in any- 
 thing in my life. I was very much accustomed to 
 eighties when I was in school. I am very common 
 and unbrilliant," she assured him. "Fairy says you 
 are perfectly horribly clever " 
 
 She glanced up when she heard his exclamation, 
 and laughed at his rueful face. "Oh, that isn't 
 Fairy's expression. She thinks brilliant and clever 
 
148 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 people are just adorable. It is only I who think 
 them horrible." Even Prudence could see that this 
 did not help matters. "I — I do not mean that," she 
 stammered. "I am sure you are very nice indeed, 
 and we are going to be good friends, aren't we? 
 But I am such a dunce myself that I am afraid of 
 real clever people. They are so superior. And so 
 uninteresting, and — oh, I do not mean that either." 
 Then Prudence laughed at her predicamtent. "I 
 may as well give it up. What I really mean is that 
 you are so nice and friendly and interesting, that 
 I can hardly believe you are so clever. You are 
 the nicest smart person I ever saw, — except my 
 own family, I mean." She smiled up at him de- 
 liciously. "Does that make it square?" 
 
 "More than square," he said. "You are too com- 
 plimentary. But the only thing that really counts 
 to-day is whether we are going to be real good 
 friends, as you suggested. We are, aren't we? 
 The very best and closest of friends?" 
 
 "Yes," agreed Prudence, dimpling. "I like men 
 to be my friends, — nice men, I mean. But it isn't 
 always safe. So many start out to be good friends, 
 and then want to be silly. So a girl has to be very 
 careful. But it's perfectly safe with you, and so 
 
AN ADMIRER 149 
 
 we can be the very best of friends. I won't need 
 to be watchful for bad symptoms." 
 
 "Do you think me so unmanly that I couldn't fall 
 in love?" he asked, and his voice was curious, as 
 though she had hurt him. 
 
 "Oh, of course, you'll fall in love," laughed 
 Prudence. "All nice men do. — But not with me, — 
 that was what I meant. I couldn't imagine a buggy 
 professor — oh, I beg your pardon! But the twins 
 are so silly and disrespectful, and they thought it 
 was such a joke that I should even look at a pro- 
 fessor of biology that they began calling you the 
 buggy professor. But they do not mean any harm 
 by it, not the least in the world. They're such nice 
 sweet girls, but — ^young, you know. Are your feel- 
 ings hurt?" she asked anxiously. 
 
 "Not a bit! I think the twins and I will be tre- 
 mendously good friends. I'm quite willing to be 
 known as the buggy professor. But you were try- 
 ing to explain why I couldn't fall in love with you. 
 I suppose you mean that you do not want me to." 
 
 "Oh, not that at all," she hastened to assure 
 him. Then she stopped. "Yes," she said honestly, 
 "that is true, too. But that isn't what I was try- 
 ing to say. I was just saying that no one realizes 
 
150 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 any more than I how perfectly impossible it would 
 be for a clever, grown-up, brilliant professor to fall 
 in love with such an idiot as I am. That's all. I 
 meant it for a compliment," she added, seeing he 
 was not well pleased. 
 
 He smiled, but it was a sober smile. "You said 
 it was true that you did not wish me to be — fond 
 of you. Why? Don't you like me then, after 
 all?" 
 
 Now, he realized that this was a perfectly in- 
 sane conversation, but for the life of him, he 
 couldn't help it. Prudence was so alluring, and the 
 sky was so warmly blue, the sunshine so mild and 
 hazy, and the roadside so gloriously gay with col- 
 ors! Who could have sense on such a day, with 
 such a girl as this? 
 
 "Oh, I do like you very much indeed," declared 
 Prudence. "It's a big relief, too, for I didn't ex- 
 pect to — oh, I beg your pardon again, but — ^well, 
 I was scared when Fairy told me how remarkable 
 you are. I didn't want to disgrace the parsonage, 
 and I knew I would. But — ^why, the reason I do 
 not want you to fall in love with me, — ^that's very 
 different from being fond of me, I do want you 
 to be that, — ^but when people fall in love, they get 
 
AN ADMIRER 151 
 
 married. I'm not going to get married, so it 
 would be silly to fall in love, wouldn't it?" 
 
 He laughed heartily at the matter-of-factness 
 with which this nineteen-year-old girl disposed of 
 love and marriage. "Why aren't you going to be 
 married?" he inquired, foolishly happy, and show- 
 ing more foolishness than happiness, just as we all 
 do on such occasions. 
 
 "Well, it will be ten or eleven years before 
 Connie is fairly raised." 
 
 "Yes, but you won't be a Methusalem in eleven 
 years," he smiled. 
 
 "No, but you forget father." 
 
 "Forget father! Are you raising him, too?" 
 
 "No, I'm not raising him, but I'm managing 
 him." But when he laughed, she hastened to add, 
 "That is, I take care of him, and keep house for 
 him, and remind him of things he forgets." Then 
 with girlish honesty, she added, "Though I must 
 confess that he has to remind me of things I for- 
 get, oftener than I do him. I inherited my forget- 
 fulness from father. I asked him once if he in- 
 herited his from gfrandfather, and he said he for- 
 got whether grandfather was forgetful or not! 
 Father is very fclever. So's Fairy, And the twins 
 
152 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 are the smartest little things you ever saw, — and 
 Connie, too. Connie is the oddest, keenest child. 
 She's wonderful. They all are, — ^but me. It's kind 
 of humiliating to be the only stupid one in a family 
 of smart folks. I suppose you've no idea how it 
 feels, and I can't explain it. But sometimes I 
 think maybe I ought to go off and die, so the whole 
 family can shine and sparkle together. As it is, 
 there's just a dull glow from my corner, quite 
 pale and ugly compared with the brilliant gleams 
 the others are sending out." 
 
 Said Professor Rayburn, "Ah, Prudence, the 
 faint, sweet mellow glows are always beautiful. 
 Not sparkling, perhaps, not brilliant ! But comfort- 
 ing, and cheering, and — always to be trusted. It's 
 just these little corner-glows, like yours, that make 
 Hfe worth living." 
 
 This was rather deep for Prudence, but she felt 
 instinctively that he was complimenting her. She 
 thanked him sweetly, and said, "And after all, I do 
 not really mind being the stupid one. I think it's 
 rather fun, for then I can just live along comfort- 
 ably, and people do not expect much of me. It 
 would wear me all out to be as clever as Fairy, or 
 
AN ADMIRER 153 
 
 as witty as Carol, or as studious as Lark. But I am 
 most tremendously proud of them, I assure you." 
 
 If Professor Rayburn had continued along this 
 interesting and fruitful line of conversation, all 
 wotild have been well. 
 
 "But it came just like a clap of thunder in the 
 sunshine," said Prudence to Fairy dramatically, as 
 they sat in their room talking things over that 
 night. "We were having a perfectly grand time, 
 and I was just thinking he was as nice and interest- 
 ing as if he didn't know one thing to his name, 
 when — Crash ! That's how it happened." 
 
 Fairy wiped her eyes, and lay back weakly on the 
 bed. "Go on," she urged. "What happened?" 
 
 "He stopped right in the middle of a sentence 
 about me, something real nice, too, that I was 
 awfully interested in, and said, 'Look, Miss Starr!' 
 Then he got down on his knees and began cautious- 
 ly scraping away the sticks and leaves. Then he 
 fished out the most horrible, woolly, many-legged 
 little animal I ever saw in my life. He said it was 
 a giminythoraticus billyancibus, and he was as 
 tickled over it as though he had just picked up a 
 millicai-dollar diamond. And what do you suppose 
 
154 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 the weird creature did with it? He wrapped it in 
 a couple of leaves, and put his handkerchief around 
 it and put it in his pocket! — Do you remember 
 when we were eating by the creek, and I got jam 
 on my fingers ? He offered me his handkerchief to 
 wipe it off? Do you remember how I shoved him 
 away, and shuddered ? I saw you look reprovingly 
 at me ! That's why ! Do you suppose I could wipe 
 my fingers with a handkerchief that had been in 
 one of his pockets?" 
 
 "It wasn't the one that had the giminy billibus, 
 was it?" 
 
 "No, but goodness only knows what had been in 
 this one, — an alligator, maybe, or a snake. He's 
 very fond of snakes. He says some of them are 
 so useful. I try to be charitable, Fairy, and I be- 
 lieve I would give even Satan credit for any good 
 there was in him, — ^but it is too much to ask me 
 to be fond of a man who is fond of snakes. But 
 that is not the worst. He put the giminy thing in 
 his pocket, — ^his left pocket ! Then he came on walk- 
 ing with me, on my right side. On my right side. 
 Fairy, do you understand what that means? It 
 means that the gyniny billibus, as you call, it — oh, 
 I wouldn't swear to the name, Fairy, I do not claim 
 
AN ADMIRER 155 
 
 to be smart, but I know how it looked ! Well, any- 
 how, name and all, it was on the side next to me. 
 1 stopped to look at a little stick, and switched 
 around on the other side. Then he stooped to look 
 at a bunch of dirt, and got on the wrong side again. 
 Then I stopped, and then he did, and so we kept zig- 
 zagging down the road. A body would have 
 thought we were drunk, I suppose. Four times 
 that man stopped to pick up some wriggling little 
 animal, and four times he deposited his treasure in 
 one of his various pockets. Don't ask why it is im- 
 possible for me to be friends with such a being, — 
 spare me that humiliation!" 
 
 But the fair daughter of the parsonage proved 
 irresistibly attractive to the unfortunate professor, 
 and he was not to be lightly. shunted aside. He for- 
 sook the Presbyterian church, of which he was a 
 member, and attended the Methodist meetings with 
 commendable assiduity. After each service, he ac- 
 companied Prudence home, and never failed to 
 accept her invitations, feebly given, to "come in a 
 minute." He called as qften during the week as 
 Propriety, in the voice of Prudence, deemed fitting. 
 It was wholly unnatural for Prudence to cater to 
 Propriety, but Professor Raybum did not know 
 
156 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 this. Weeks passed, a month slipped away, and 
 another. Professor Rayburn was considered a fix- 
 ture in the parsonage household by all except Pru- 
 dence herself, who chafed under her bondage. 
 
 "I can't just blurt out that I think he's a nui- 
 sance," she mourned to Fairy. "Oh, if he'd just do 
 something disgusting so I could fire him off, — 
 Pop ! Just like that. Wouldn't it be glorious ?" 
 
 But the professor did not indulge in disgusting 
 things, and Prudence continued to worry and fret. 
 Then came a blessed evening when the minister and 
 Fairy were away from home, and the twins and 
 Connie were safely in their beds. Professor Ray- 
 bum sat with Prudence in the cozy living-room, and 
 Prudence was charming, though quiet, and the pro- 
 fessor was only human. Prudence had made tea, 
 and as she rose to relieve him of his empty cup, 
 he also rose to return it to the table. Laughing, 
 they put it down on the tray, each holding one side 
 of the saucer. Then when it was safely disposed of. 
 Prudence turned toward him, still laughing at the 
 silliness of it, — ^very alluring, very winsome. And 
 Mr. Rayburn, unexpectedly to himself as to her, put 
 his arms around her and kissed her. He was aghast 
 at himself, once it was over, and Prudence, — well. 
 
AN ADMIRER 157 
 
 let us say frankly that Prudence was only relieved, 
 for it came to her in a flash that this was the "dis- 
 gusting thing" for which she had so fervently 
 longed. 
 
 "Mr. Rayburn!" 
 
 "That was very stupid and unpardonable of me, 
 Prudence," he said quickly, "I really did not think 
 what I was doing. But you were so sweet, and — 
 I'm awfully fond of you. Prudence, you know that." 
 
 Prudence looked at him thoughtfully. She felt 
 that this hardly gave her the desired opening. So 
 she waited, hoping he would commit himself fur- 
 ther. More humbled by her unnatural silence, he 
 did go on. 
 
 "You know, Prudence, when a man cares for a 
 girl as I care for you, it isn't always easy for him 
 to be sober and sensible. You shouldn't have been 
 so — so dear." 
 
 Prudence sighed happily. She was content. 
 This gave her the long-desired cue. 
 
 "Mr. Rayburn," she said gently but decidedly, 
 "I think you ought not to come here any more." 
 
 He walked over to her quickly, and stood beside 
 the chair into which she had dropped when he 
 kissed her. 
 
158 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Don't say that, Prudence," he said in a hurried 
 low voice. 
 
 "It is true," she persisted, feeling somehow sorry, 
 though she did not understand why she should feel 
 so. "I — I — well, you know I — you remember; what 
 I told you that first day, don't you ? About getting 
 married, and falling in love, and such things. It is 
 true. I don't want to love anybody, and I don't 
 want to get married, and Fairy says — it is — re- 
 motely possible — that you might get — ^very fond 
 of me." 
 
 He smiled rather grimly. "Yes, I think it is — 
 remotely possible." 
 
 "Then that settles it," she said comfortably. "And 
 besides, I have such a lot to do that I can't — ^well, 
 bother — spending so much time outside as I have 
 with you. I've been neglecting my work, and it isn't 
 right. I haven't the time." 
 
 "Which is your way of saying that you do not 
 like me, isn't it?" 
 
 Prudence stood up impulsively. "Oh, I like 
 you, but — " she threw out her hands expressively. 
 He took them in his, tenderly, firmly. 
 
 "But, Prudence," he argued, "that is because the 
 woman in you isn't awake. You may never love 
 
AN ADMIRER 159 
 
 me — a dismal possibility, but it is true. But don't 
 you think it only fair that you should give me a 
 chance to try ?" 
 
 "Oh, but that's just the point," she cried. "I do 
 not want you to try. I do not want to run any 
 risk, at all. I wouldn't marry you if I did love you 
 — I told you that right in the beginning." 
 
 He still held her hands in one of his, caressing 
 them slowly with the other.- "What is there about 
 me that you do not like?" he demanded suddenly. 
 "There is something, I know." 
 
 And with her awful unbelievable honesty. Pru- 
 dence told him. ",Yes," she said, "that is true. 
 I hated to mention it, but there is something ! Mr. 
 Rayburn, I just can't stand the bugs!" 
 
 "Good heavens ! The what?" 
 
 "The bugs ! I can't bear for you to be near me, 
 because I keep wondering if there are bugs and 
 things in your pocket. I'm afraid they'll get over 
 on me. Even now it makes me shiver when you 
 hold my hands, because I know you've been hand- 
 ling the horrible little creatures with yours." He 
 dropped her hands abruptly, and stared at her. 
 "And after you leave, I get down on my hands 
 and knees and look over the floor, and ex- 
 
160 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 amine the chairs, to see if any have crawled off! 
 It's a terrible feeling, Mr. Rayburn. You know I 
 told you I hated bugs. — I'm afraid I've hurt your 
 feelings," she said sadly. 
 
 "Where in the world did you get such an idea 
 as that?" he demanded rather angrily. "Do you 
 think I have pet bugs to carry around with me for 
 company ?" 
 
 "No, — ^but don't you remfember the picnic, — 
 and how you kept gathering them up in your hand- 
 kerchiefs and putting them in your pockets? And 
 how I kept squirming around to get on the other 
 side, — I was trying to get away from the bugs !" 
 
 "But, my heavens. Prudence, those were my field 
 clothes. I don't put bugs in these pockets, — these 
 are my Sunday togs!" He smiled a little. "And 
 I always wash my hands, you know." He found it 
 humorous, and yet it hurt him. Such a little thing 
 to prejudice a girl so strongly, — and one he liked 
 so marvelously well ! 
 
 "You might forget, and put them in these 
 pockets, — it's a kind of habit with you, I suppose. 
 And just plain washing won't take the idea of bugs 
 off your hands." 
 
 "Prudence, you are only a girl, — a childish girl, 
 
AN ADMIRER i6i 
 
 but a very sweet one. I want you to like me. When 
 you grow up, you are going to be a wonderfully 
 good and lovely woman. I — I am going to want 
 you then. I know it. Let's just be friends now, 
 can't we — ^until later — for a long time yet? I'll 
 promise on my word of honor never to put another 
 bug in my pockets, or my handkerchiefs. But I 
 can't promise not to touch them, for I have to do it 
 in class. That's how I earn my living! But I will 
 wash my hands with Ivory soap and sapolio, and rub 
 them with cold cream, and powder them, and per- 
 fume them, before I ever come near you again. 
 Won't that do?" 
 
 Prudence shook her head. "I know you are 
 laughing at me," she said, "but I always told you 
 I was just a silly simpleton. And — it isn't the bugs 
 altogether. I — I like it better to be with my sis- 
 ters than " 
 
 "Than with me? I see. As I said, the woman 
 of you is still sleeping. Well, we are young, and 
 I will wait. I won't bother you any more for a 
 long time, Prudence, but I shan't forget you. And 
 some day I will come back to you again." He 
 stared at her moodily. Then he put his hands be- 
 neath her elbows, and looked into her eyes search- 
 
162 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 ingly. "You are a strange girl, Prudence. In some 
 ways, you are so womanly, and in other ways so 
 — ^pitifully girlish! All the woman in your heart 
 seems to be given to your sisters and your father, 
 and — But you will waken, and I won't hurry 
 you." Then he put his arms around her again, and 
 whispered in her ear, "But I love you, Prudence, 
 and — if some one else should do the awakening — ■ 
 it would hurt!" Then he kissed her, and went 
 away. 
 
 But Prudenice ran up-stairs, singing happily. 
 "Oh, I feel like a caged-up bird that has broken 
 loose," she cried to her reflection in the mirror 
 jubilantly. "Oh, what fun it will be to come home 
 from church with Fairy and the twins, the way I 
 used to do J" 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 
 
 CONNIE was lying flat on her baclc near the 
 register. The twins were sitting on the 
 floor near her, hearing each other conjugate Latin 
 verbs. And Prudence, with her darning basket, 
 was earnestly trying to solve a domestic problem, — 
 how to get three pairs of wearable stockings out of 
 eleven hosiery remnants. So Fairy found them as 
 she came in, radiant and glowing. 
 
 "Glorious day," she said, glancing impartially at 
 her sisters. "Just glorious ! Why are you all hug- 
 ging the register, may I ask ? It is perfect weather. 
 Connie, you should be out-of-doors this minute, by 
 all means. Twins, aren't you grown-up enough to 
 sit on chairs, or won't your f ooties reach the floor ? 
 — Babbie, Eugene Babler, you know, is coming to 
 spend the evening, Prudence." 
 
 "What is going on to-night?" queried Prudence. 
 
 "Nothing is going on. That's why he is coming. 
 It's too cold to meander around outdoors these 
 
 163 
 
164 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 nights, and so we shall have to amuse ourselves in- 
 side as best we can." 
 
 The whole family came to attention at this. 
 
 "Oh, goody!" cried Connie. "Let's make taffy, 
 shall we. Fairy ?" 
 
 "Certainly not. This isn't a children's party. 
 You'll go to bed at eight o'clock as usual, Connie 
 mine. — Now, we must have something to eat. The 
 question is, What shall it be?" 
 
 "Yes," agreed Carol with enthusiasm, — Carol 
 was always enthusiastic on the subject of some- 
 thing to eat. "Yes, indeed, that is the question. 
 What shall we have?" 
 
 "You will likely have pleasant dreams, Carol," 
 was the cool retort. "Babbie did not invite himself 
 to spend the evening with you, I beHeve." 
 
 "Do you mean to suggest," demanded Lark with 
 withering scorn, "that it is your intention to shut 
 yourself up alone with this — this creature, exclud- 
 ing the rest of us?" 
 
 "Yes, and have refreshments for just you two?" 
 cried Carol. 
 
 "That is my intention most certainly. The twins 
 and Connie will not put in appearance at all. Prue 
 will serve the refreshments, and will eat with us. 
 
o 
 
 Si 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 165 
 
 Babbie and I shall spend the evening in the front 
 room." 
 
 "The front room?" echoed Prudence. "This 
 room is much cheerier, and more homelike." 
 
 "Well, Babbie isn't a member of the family, you 
 know," said Fairy. 
 
 "You are doing your best," sniffed Carol. 
 
 "Now, you girls must understand right off, that 
 things are different here from what they were at 
 Exminster. When boys came to the house there 
 they came to have a good time with the whole 
 family. But here it is very different. I've been 
 looking around, and I've got on to the system. The 
 proper thing is to receive callers privately, without 
 the family en masse sitting by and superintending. 
 That's etiquette, you know. And one must always 
 serve refreshments. More etiquette. Men are such 
 greedy animals, they do not care to go places where 
 the eats aren't forthcoming." 
 
 "Men ! Are you referring to this Babbling crea- 
 ture now?" interposed Carol. 
 
 "Ouch!" said Lark. 
 
 "But won't it be rather — ^poky — just sitting in 
 the front room by yourselves all evening?" asked 
 Prudence doubtfully, ignoring the offended twins. 
 
166 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Oh, I dare say it will. But it's the proper thing 
 to do," said Fairy complacently. 
 
 "What are you going to do all evening ?" Connie 
 wanted to know. "Just sit and look at each other 
 and admire yourselves?" 
 
 The twins thought this very clever of Connie, 
 so they both said "Ouch !" approvingly. 
 
 "Why, no, baby dear," said Fairy good-natured- 
 ly. "We shall talk. Feast our souls with a flow 
 of reason, you know. We shall converse. We shall 
 hold pleasant intercourse." 
 
 "Wouldn't it be more fun to have the girls in 
 for a little while?" This from Prudence. 
 
 "Oh, it might, — ^but it wouldn't be the proper 
 thing at all. College men do not care to be enter- 
 tained by babies." 
 
 "No," snapped Lark, "the wisdom of babies is 
 too deep for these — these — ^these men in embryo." 
 
 This was so exquisitely said that Lark was quite 
 restored to amiability by it. "In embryo," had been 
 added to her vocabulary that very day in the biology 
 class. It was only the sheerest good fortune which 
 gave her the opportunity of utilizing it so soon. And 
 Carol said "Ouch!" with such whole-souled ad- 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 167 
 
 miration that Lark's spirit soared among the clouds. 
 She had scored! 
 
 "And what shall we serve them?" urged Pru- 
 dence. "I suppose it would hardly do to — ^pop corn, 
 would it?" 
 
 "No, indeed. Popping gom is very nice for the 
 twins and the little boys in the neighborhood." Fairy 
 smiled with relish as she saw the twins wince at 
 this thrust. "But Babbie and I — Oh, never! It 
 wouldn't do at all. Now, oyster stew and crackers, 
 — I mean wafers, " 
 
 "Oysters are fearfully expensive, Fairy," ob- 
 jected the frugal Prudence. 
 
 "Oh, we can stand it for once," said Fairy easily. 
 "This is the first time, and we must do something 
 extra. Babbie is all the rage at school, and 
 the girls are frantic with jealousy because I 
 have cut everybody else out. To be honest about 
 it, I can't understand it myself. Babbie's such a 
 giddy scatter-brained yotingster, you'd think he'd 
 prefer " 
 
 "Do you like him. Fairy? Don't you think he's 
 tiresome? He talks so much, it seems to me." 
 
 "To be sure I like him. He's great fun. He's 
 
168 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 always joking and never has a sensible thought, and 
 hates study. He's an amusing soul, I must say. 
 He's going to attend liere a couple of years, and 
 then study pharmacy. His father is a druggist in 
 Ottumwa, and quite well off. The only reason 
 Babbie came here instead of going to a big col- 
 lege in the East is because his father is a trustee. 
 Trustees are in honor bound to send their offspring 
 to the college they trustee, — just as ministers are 
 obliged to trade with the members when possible." 
 
 "Even if they short- weight and long-charge you," 
 put in Carol. 
 
 "Carol !" exclaimed Prudence reprovingly. "Well, 
 we'll serve oyster stew then. Will you eat in the 
 dining-room ?" 
 
 "No, we'll eat on the little table in the front 
 room, — informally, you know. You must get it 
 ready, and arrange it nicely on the big tray. Then 
 you must come to the door and say, 'Wouldn't you 
 like a little oyster stew?' Say it carelessly, 
 as if we always have something to eat before 
 going to bed. And I'll say , 'Oh, yes, Pru- 
 dence, bring it right in.' Then you bring it in, and 
 we'll all eat together. — That's the way to do it! 
 Babbie's had dates with the very swellest girls 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 169 
 
 in school, and he knows about such things. We 
 must do it up brown !" 
 
 "Swell!" mocked Lark. "Do it up brown! Oh, 
 you'll he a record-breaker of a college professor 
 all right. I'm sure this young Babler is just the 
 type of man to interest the modern college pro- 
 fessor! Swell! Do it up brown!" 
 
 "Ouch!" grinned Carol. 
 
 "Now, will you twins run down-town for the 
 oysters ?" asked Prudence briskly. 
 
 "Who? Us?" demanded Lark, indignantly and 
 ungrammatically. "Do you think we can carry 
 home oysters for the — ^the — ^personal consumption 
 of this Babbling young prince? Not so! Let Fairy 
 go after the oysters! She can carry them home 
 tenderly and appreciatively. Carol and I can't ! We 
 don't grasp the beauty of that man's nature." 
 
 "Oh, yes, twinnies, I think you'll go, all right. 
 Hurry now, for you must be back in time to help 
 me get supper. Fairy'll have to straighten the front 
 room, and we won't have time. Run along, and be 
 quick." 
 
 For a few seconds the twins gazed at each other 
 studiously. Neither spoke. Without a word, they 
 S^ent up-stairs to prepare for their errand. 
 
170 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 They whispered softly going through the upper 
 hall. 
 
 "We'd better make a list," said Carol softly. 
 
 So with heads close together they wrote out sev- 
 eral items on a piece of paper. 
 
 "It'll cost quite a lot," objected Carol. "Thirty 
 cents, anyhow. And Prudence'U make us pay for 
 the oysters, sure. Remember that." 
 
 "We'd better let Connie in, too," suggested Lark. 
 
 Connie was hastily summoned, and the twins 
 whispered explanations in her willing ears. "Good !" 
 she said approvingly. "It'll serve 'em right." 
 
 "But it'll cost money," said Carol. "How much 
 have you got?" 
 
 Then Connie understood why she had been con- 
 sulted. The twins always invited her to join their 
 enterprises when money was required. 
 
 "A quarter," she faltered. 
 
 "Well, we'll go shares," said Lark generously. 
 "We'll pay a dime apiece. It may not take that 
 much. But if Prudence makes us pay. for the 
 oysters, you'll have to pay a third. Will you do 
 that?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed." Connie was relieved. She did 
 not always get off so easily! 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 171 
 
 "Twins! You must hurry!" This was Pru- 
 dence at the bottom of the stairs. And the twins 
 set off quite hurriedly. Their first jcall was at the 
 meat market. 
 
 "A pint of oysters," said Lark briefly. 
 
 When he brought them to her, she smelled them 
 suspiciously. Then Carol smelled. 
 
 "Are these rotten oysters?" she demanded hope- 
 fully. 
 
 "No," he answered, laughing. "Certainly not." 
 
 "Have you got any rotten ones?" 
 
 "No, we don't keep that kind." He was still 
 laughing. 
 
 The twins sighed and hurried next door to the 
 grocer's. 
 
 "A nickel's worth of pepper — ^the strongest you 
 have." 
 
 This was quickly settled — and the grave-faced 
 twins betook themselves to the corner drug store. 
 
 "We — we want something with a perfectly awful 
 smell," Lark explained soberly. 
 
 "What kind of a smell?" 
 
 "We don't care what kind, but it must be per- 
 fectly sickening. Like something rotten, or dead, 
 if you have it. Something that will stay smelly 
 
172 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 for several hours, — ^but it mustn't be dangerous, of 
 course." 
 
 "What do you want it for?" 
 
 "We want it to put in a room to give it a hor- 
 rible smell for an hour or so." iLark winked at 
 him solemnly. "It's a joke," she further eluci- 
 dated. 
 
 "I see." His eyes twinkled. "I think I £an fix 
 you up." A moment later he handed her a small 
 bottle. "Just sprinkle this over the carpet. It 
 won't do any harm, and it smells like thunder. It 
 costs a quarter." 
 
 Carol frowned. "I suppose we'll have to take 
 it," she said, "but it's pretty expensive. I hate to 
 have druggists get such a lot of money." 
 
 He laughed aloud. "I hate to have you get a 
 good licking to-morrow, too, — but you'll get it just 
 the same, or I miss my guess." 
 
 When the twins arrived home, Fairy was just 
 cutting the candy she had made. "It's delicious," 
 she said to Prudence. "Here's a nice dishful for 
 you and the girls. — Pitch in, twins, and help your- 
 selves. It's very nice." 
 
 The twins waved her haughtily away. "No, 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 173 
 
 thank you," they said. "We couldn't eat that 
 candy with relish. We are unworthy." 
 
 "All right," Prudence put in quickly, as Fairy 
 only laughed. "I'll put it in the cupboard, and 
 Fairy and I will eat it to-morrow. It's perfectly 
 fine, — simply delicious." 
 
 But the twins were not to be tempted. Before 
 they went up-stairs. Lark inquired sarcastically : 
 
 "I suppose. Fairy, you''ll don your best blue 
 silk in honor of this event?" 
 
 "Oh, no," was the ready answer, "I'll just wear 
 my little green muslin. It's old, but very nice and 
 comfortable — just right for an evening at home." 
 
 "Yes," scoffed Carol, "and of course you are 
 remembering that every one says it is the most 
 becoming dress you have." 
 
 "Oh, yes," laughed Fairy, "I'm remembering 
 tkt, all right." 
 
 Then the twins went up-stairs, but not to their 
 own room at once. Instead they slipped noiselessly 
 into the front bedroom, and a little later Carol 
 came out into the hall and stood listening at the 
 head of the stairs, as though on guard. 
 
 "Be sure and leave quite a few stitches in. Lark," 
 
174 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 she whispered once. "We want it to hang together 
 until Babbie gets here." 
 
 That was all. Presently Lark emjerged, and 
 their own door closed behind them. 
 
 "It's a good thing father has to go to the trus- 
 tees' meeting to-night, isn't it?" asked Carol. And 
 Lark agreed, absently. She was thinking of the 
 oysters. 
 
 As soon as they finished supper. Lark said, 
 "Don't you think we'd better go right to bed, Prue ? 
 We don't want to taint the atmosphere of the par- 
 sonage. Of course. Fairy will want to wash the 
 dishes herself to make sure they are clean and shin- 
 ing." 
 
 "Oh, no," disclaimed Fairy, still good-naturedly. 
 "I can give an extra rub to the ones we want to 
 use, — that is enough. I do appreciate the thought, 
 though, thanks very much." 
 
 So the twins plunged in, carefully keeping Con- 
 nie beside them. "She has such a full-to-overflow- 
 ing look," said Carol. "If we don't keep hold of 
 her, she'll let something bubble over." Connie had 
 a dismal propensity for giving things away, — the 
 twins had often suffered from it. To-night, they 
 were determined to forestall such a calamity. 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 175 
 
 Then they all three went to bed. To be sure it 
 was ridiculously early, but they; were all deter- 
 mined. 
 
 "We feel weak under this unusual strain. Our 
 nerves can't stand the tension. We really must 
 retire to rest. Maybe a good night's sleep will re- 
 store us to normal," Lark explained gravely. 
 
 Fairy only laughed. "Good!" she cried. "Do 
 go to bed. The only time I am sure of you is when 
 you are in your beds. Do you mind if I tie you in, 
 to make assurance doubly sure?" 
 
 But the twins and Connie had disappeared. 
 
 "You keep your eyes open, Fairy," Prudence 
 whispered melodramatically. "Those girls do not 
 look right. Something is hanging over our heads." 
 And she added anxiously, "Oh, I'll be so disap- 
 pointed if things go badly. This is the first time 
 we've ever lived up to etiquette, and I feel it is 
 really a crisis." 
 
 Fairy was a little late getting up-stairs to dress, 
 but she took time to drop into her sisters' room. 
 They were all in bed, breathing heavily. She 
 walked from one to another, and stood above them 
 majestically. 
 
 "Asleep !" she cried. "Ah, Fortune is kind. They 
 
176 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 are asleep. How' I love these darling little twin- 
 nies,: — in their sleep !" 
 
 An audible sniff from beneath the covers, and 
 Fairy, smiling mischievously, went into the front 
 room to prepare for her caller. 
 
 The bell rang as she was dressing. Prudence 
 went to the door, preternaturally ceremonious, and 
 ushered Mr. Babler into the front room. She 
 turned on the electric switch as she opened the door. 
 She was too much impressed with the solemnity of 
 the occasion to take much note of her surroundings, 
 and she did not observe that the young man sniffed 
 in a peculiar manner as he entered the room. 
 
 "I'll call Fairy," she said demurely. 
 
 "Tell her she needn't primp for me," he an- 
 swered, laughing. "I know just how she looks al- 
 ready." 
 
 But Prudence was too heavily burdened to laugh. 
 She smiled hospitably, and closed the door upon 
 him. Fairy was tripping down the stairs, very tall, 
 very handsome, very gay. She pinched her sister's 
 arm as she passed, and the front room door swung 
 behind. But she did not greet her friend. She 
 stood erect by the door, her head tilted on one side, 
 sniffing, sniffing. 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 177 
 
 "What in the world?" she wondered. Then she 
 blushed. Perhaps it was something he had used on 
 his hair! Or perhaps he had been having his suit 
 cleaned! "Oh, I guess it's nothing, after all," she 
 stammered. But Eugene Babler was strangely 
 quiet. He looked about the room in a peculiar ques- 
 tioning way. 
 
 "Shall I raise a window?" he suggested finally. 
 "It's rather — er— hot in here." 
 
 "Yes, do," she urged. "Raise all of them. It's 
 — do you — do you notice a — a funny smell in here ? 
 Or am I imagining it ? It — it almost makes me 
 sick!" 
 
 "Yes, there is a smell," he said, in evident relief. 
 "I thought maybe you'd been cleaning the carpet 
 with something. It's ghastly. Can't we go some- 
 where else?" 
 
 "Come on." She opened the door into the sitting- 
 room. "We're coming out here if you do not mind, 
 Prue." And Fairy explained the difficulty. 
 
 "Why, that's very strange," said Prudence, knit- 
 ting her brows. "I was in there right after sup- 
 per, and I didn't notice anything. What does it 
 smell like?" 
 
 "It's a new smell to me," laughed Fairy, "but 
 
178 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 something about it is strangely suggestive of our 
 angel-twins." 
 
 Prudence went to investigate, and Fairy shoved 
 a big chair near the table, waving her hand toward 
 it lightly with a smile at Babbie. Then she sank 
 into a low rocker, and leaned one arm on the table. 
 She wrinkled her forehead thoughtfully. 
 
 "That smell," she began. "I am very suspicious 
 about it. It was not at all natural " 
 
 "Excuse me. Fairy," he said, ill at ease for the 
 first time in her knowledge of him. "Did you know 
 your sleeve was coming out?" 
 
 Fairy gasped, and raised her arm. 
 
 "Both arms, apparently," he continued, smiling, 
 but his face was flushed. 
 
 "Excuse me just a minute, will you ?" Fairy was 
 unruffled. She sought her sister. "Look here, 
 Prue, — ^what do you make of this? I'm coming to 
 pieces ! I'm hanging by a single thread, as it were." 
 
 Her sleeves were undoubtedly ready to drop off 
 at a second's notice! Prudence was shocked. She 
 grew positively white in the face. 
 
 "Oh, Fairy," she wailed. "We are disgraced." 
 
 "Not a bit of it," said Fairy coolly. "I remember 
 now that Lark was looking for the scissors before 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 179 
 
 supper. Aren't those twins unique ? This is almost 
 bordering on talent, isn't it? Don't look so dis- 
 tressed, Prue. Etiquette itself must be subservient 
 to twins, it seems. Don't forget to bring in the 
 stew at a quarter past nine, and have it as good 
 as possible, — ^please, dear." 
 
 "I will," vowed Prudence, "I'll— I'll use cream. 
 Oh, those horrible twins !" 
 
 "Go in and entertain Babbie till I come down, 
 won't you?" And Fairy ran lightly up the stairs, 
 humming a snatch of song. 
 
 But Prudence did a poor job of entertain- 
 ing Babbie during her sister's absence. She 
 felt really dizzy! Such a way to introduce 
 Etiquette into the parsonage life. She was 
 glad to make her escape from the room when Fairy 
 returned, a graceful figure in the fine blue silk ! She 
 went back to the dining-room, and painstakingly 
 arranged the big tray for the designated moment 
 of its entrance, — according to etiquette. Fairy and 
 Babbie in the next room talked incessantly, laughing 
 often and long, and Prudence, hearing, smiled in 
 sympathy. She herself thought it would be alto- 
 gether stupid to be shut up in a room alone with 
 "just a man" for a whole evening, — ^but etiquette 
 
180 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 required it. Fairy knew about such things, of 
 course. 
 
 A little after nine, she called out dismally, 
 "Fairy!" And Fairy, fearing fresh disaster, came 
 running out. 
 
 "What now? What " 
 
 "I forget what you told me to say," whispered 
 Prudence wretchedly, "what was it? The soup is 
 ready, and piping hot, — ^but what is it you want 
 me to say?" 
 
 Fairy screamed with laughter. "You goose!" 
 she cried. "Say anything you like. I was just 
 giving you a tip, that was all. It doesn't make 
 any difference what you say." 
 
 "Oh, I am determined to do my part just right," 
 vowed Prudence fervently, "according to etiquette 
 and all. What was it you said?" 
 
 Fairy stifled her laughter with difificulty, and said 
 in a low voice, "Wouldn't you like a little nice, hot, 
 oyster stew?" Prudence repeated it after her 
 breathlessly. 
 
 So Fairy returned once more, and soon after Pru- 
 dence tapped on the door. Then she opened it, and 
 thrust her curly head inside. "Wouldn't you like a 
 
•LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE i8i 
 
 little nice, hot, oyster stew ?" she chirped methodic- 
 ally. And Fairy said, "Oh, yes indeed. Prudence, — 
 this Is so nice of you." 
 
 The stew was steaming hot, and the three gath- 
 ered sociably about the table.. Prudence was talk- 
 ing. Fairy was passing the "crackers," — Prudence 
 kicked her foot gently beneath the table, to remind 
 her that etiquette calls them "wafers." So it hap- 
 pened that Babbie was first to taste the steaming 
 stew. He gasped, and gulped, and swallowed some 
 water with more haste than grace. Then he toyed 
 idly with spoon and wafer until Prudence tasted 
 also. Prudence did not gasp. She did not cry out. 
 She looked up at her sister with wide hurt eyes, — > 
 a world of pathos in the glance. But Fairy did not 
 notice. 
 
 "Now, please do not ask me to talk until I have 
 finished my soup," she was saying brightly, "I 
 simply can not think and appreciate oyster stew 
 at the same time." 
 
 Then she appreciated it ! She dropped her spoon 
 with a great clatter, and jumped up from the table. 
 "Mercy!" she shrieked. "It is poisoned!" 
 
 Babbie leaned back in his chair and laughed until 
 
182 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 his eyes were wet. Prudence's eyes were wet, too, 
 but not from laughter ! What would etiquette think 
 of her, after this? 
 
 "What did you do to this soup, Prudence?" de- 
 manded Fairy. 
 
 "I made it, — ^nothing else," faltered poor Pru- 
 dence, quite crushed by this blow. And oysters 
 forty cents a pint! 
 
 "It's pepper, I think," gasped Babbie. "My in- , 
 sides bear startling testimony to the presence of 
 pepper." 
 
 And he roared again, while Prudence began a 
 critical examination of the oysters. She found 
 them literally stuffed with pepper, there was no 
 doubt of it. The twins had done deadly work! 
 Their patience, at least, was commendable, — it 
 seemed that not one oyster had escaped their at- 
 tention. The entire pint had been ruined by the 
 pepper. 
 
 "Revenge, ye gods, how sweet," fchanted Fairy. 
 "The twins are getting even with a vengeance, — ^the 
 same twins you said were adorable. Babbie." It 
 must be said for Fairy that her good nature could 
 stand almost anything. Even this did not seriously 
 disturb her. "Do you suppose you can find us some 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 183 
 
 milk, Prue ? And crackers ! I'm so fond of crack- 
 ers and milk, aren't you, Babbie ?" 
 
 "Oh, I adore it. But serve a microscope with it, 
 please. I want to examine it for microbes before 
 I taste.' ■ 
 
 But Prudence did better than that. She made 
 some delicious ^ocoa, and opened a can of pear pre- 
 serves, donated to the parsonage by the amiable 
 Mrs. Adams. The twins were very fond of pear 
 preserves, and had been looking forward to eating 
 these on their approaching birthday. They were 
 doomed to disappointment ! The three had a merry 
 little feast, after all, and their laughter rang out 
 so often and so unrestrainedly that the twins shook 
 in their beds with rage and disappointment. 
 
 Mr. Starr came in while they were eating, and 
 joined them genially. But afterward, when Pru- 
 dence realized that etiquette called for their retire- 
 ment, her father still sat complacently by the regis- 
 ter, talking and laughing. Prudence fastened her 
 eyes upon him. 
 
 "Well, I must honestly go to bed," she said, gaz- 
 ing hypnotically at her father. "I know you will 
 excuse me. I must store up my strength to deal 
 with the twins in the morning.'' 
 
184 PRUDENCE OR THE PARSONAGE 
 
 She got up from her chair, and moved restlessly 
 about the room, still boring her father with her eyes. 
 He did not move. She paused beside him, and 
 slipped her hand under his elbow. 
 
 "Now, father," she said gaily, "we must put our 
 heads together, and think out a proper punishment 
 for the awful creatures." 
 
 Her hand was uplifting, and Mr. Starr rose with 
 it. Together they left the room with cordial good 
 nights, and inviting Mr. Babler to "try the parson- 
 age again." Prudence listened outside the twins' 
 door, and heard them breathing loudly. Then she 
 went to her own room, and snuggling down beneath 
 the covers, laughed softly to herself. 
 
 "Etiquette!" she gurgled. "Etiquette! There's 
 no room for such a thing in a parsonage, — I see 
 that!" 
 
 It speaks well for the courage of Babbie, and 
 the attractions of Fairy, that he came to the par- 
 sonage again and again. In time he became the 
 best of friends with the twins themselves, but he 
 always called them "the adorables," and they never 
 asked him why. The punishment inflicted upon 
 them by Prudence rankled in their memories for 
 many months. Indeed, upon that occasion, Pru- 
 
LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE 185 
 
 dence fairly surpassed herself in the ingenuity she 
 displayed. The twins considered themselves very 
 nearly as grown-up as Fairy, and the fact that she 
 was a young lady, and they were children, filled 
 their hearts with bitterness. They never lost an 
 opportunity of showing their independence where 
 she was concerned. And with marvelous insight. 
 Prudence used Fairy as her weapon of punish- 
 ment, — in fact, the twins called Fairy the "ducking- 
 stool" for many days. 
 
 "The offense was against Fairy," said Prudence, 
 with a solemnity she did not feel, "'and the repara- 
 tion must be done to her. For three weeks, you 
 must do all of her bedroom work, and run every 
 errand she requires. Moreover, you must keep her 
 shoes well cleaned and nicely polished, and must do 
 every bit of her darning!" 
 
 The twins would have preferred whipping a thou- 
 sand times. They felt they had got a whipping's 
 worth of pleasure out of their mischief! But a 
 punishment like this sat heavily upon their proud 
 young shoulders, and from that time on they held 
 Fairy practically immune from their pranks. 
 
 But Prudence did not bother her head about eti- 
 quette after that experience. "I'm strong for com-- 
 
186 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 fort," she declared, "and since the two can not live 
 together in our family, I say we do without eti- 
 quette." 
 
 And Fairy nodded in agreement, smiling good' 
 naturedly. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE FIRST DARK SHADOW OF WINTER 
 
 PRUDENCE and Fairy stood in the bay win- 
 dow of the sitting-room, and looked out at the 
 thickly falling snow. Already the ground was 
 Whitely carpeted, and the low-branched peach trees 
 just outside the parsonage windows were beginning 
 to bow down beneath their burdens. 
 
 "Isn't it beautiful, Prudence?" whispered Fairy. 
 "Isn't it beautiful? Oh, I love it when it snows." 
 
 ",Yes, and you love it when the sun shines, too," 
 said Prudence, "and when it rains, and when the 
 wind is blowing. You have the soul of a poet, 
 that's what is the matter with you. You are a na- 
 ture-fiend, as Carol would say." 
 
 Fairy turned abruptly from the window. "Don't 
 talk for a minute, Prue, — I want to write." 
 
 So Prudence stood quietly in the window, listen- 
 ing to the pencil scratching behind her. 
 
 "Listen now, Prue, — how is this?" Fairy had 
 a clear expressive voice, "a bright voice," Prudence 
 
 18Z 
 
188 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 called it. And as she read her simple lines aloud, 
 the heart of Prudence swelled with pride. To Pru- 
 dence, Fairy was a wonderful girl. 
 
 "Good night, little baby earth, going to sleep. 
 Tucked in your blankets, all woolly and deep. 
 Close your tired eyelids, droop your tired head, 
 Nestle down sweetly within your white bed. 
 Kind Mother Sky, bending softly above, 
 Is holding you close in her bosom of love. 
 Closely she draws the white coverlets warm. 
 She will be near you to shield you from harm. 
 Soon she will set all her candles alight. 
 To scatter the darkness, and save you from fright. 
 Then she will leave her cloud-doorway ajar. 
 To watch you, that nothing your slumbers may 
 
 mar. 
 Rest, little baby earth, rest and sleep tight. 
 The winter has come, and we bid you good night." 
 
 Fairy laughed, but her face was flushed. "How 
 is that?" she demanded. 
 
 "Oh, Fairy," cried Prudence, "it is wonderful! 
 How can you think of such sweet little things? 
 May I have it? May I keep it? Oh, I think it is 
 perfectly dear — I wish I could do that! I never 
 in the world would have thought of baby earth go- 
 ing to sleep and Mother Sky tucking her in white 
 blankets. — I think you are just wonderful. Fairy \" 
 
THE FIRST DARK SHADOW 189 
 
 Fairy's eyes were bright at the praise, but sbe 
 laughed as she answered. "You always think me 
 and my scribbles perfection, Prue, — even the love 
 verses that shocked the Ladies' Aid. You are a 
 bad critic. But doesn't the snow make you think 
 — ^pretty things. Prudence? Come now, as you 
 stood at the window there, what, were you think- 
 ing?" 
 
 "I was just wondering if Connie wore her rub- 
 bers to school, and if father remembered to take 
 his muffler." 
 
 Fairy burst into renewed laughter. "Oh, you 
 precious, old, practical Prudence," she gurgled. 
 "Rubbers and mufflers, with such a delicious snow- 
 faU as thisl Oh, Prudence, shame upon you." 
 
 Prudence was ashamed. "Oh, I know I am a 
 perfect idiot. Fairy," she said. "I know it better 
 than anybody else. I am so ashamed of myself, 
 all the time." Then she added rather shyly, "Fairy, 
 are you ashamed of me sometimes ? When the col- 
 lege girls are here, and you are all talking so bril- 
 liantly, aren't you kind of mortified that I am so 
 stupid and dull ? I do not care if outsiders do think 
 I am inferior to the rest of you, but — really I do 
 not want you to be ashamed of me ! I — oh, I know 
 
190 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 it myself, — that I do not amount to anything, and 
 never will, but — it would hurt if I thought you and 
 the twins were going to find me — humiliating." 
 Prudence was looking at her sister hungrily, her 
 lips drooping, her eyes dark. 
 
 For a long instant Fairy stared at her incredu- 
 lously. Then she sprang to her feet, her face white, 
 her eyes blazing. 
 
 "Prudence Starr," she cried furiously, "how dare 
 you say such things of us? Do you think we are 
 as despicable as all that? Oh, Prudence, I never 
 was so insulted in all my life! Ashamed of you! 
 Ashamed — Why, we are proud of you, every one 
 of us, daddy, too ! We think you are the finest and 
 dearest girl that ever lived. We think — = Oh, I 
 think God Himself must be proud of a girl like 
 you. Prudence Starr! Ashamed of you!" 
 
 And Fairy, bursting into tears, rushed wildly out 
 of the room. For all her poetical nature, Fairy 
 was usually self-restrained and calm. Only twice 
 before in all her life had Prudence seen her so tem- 
 pest-tossed, and now, greatly disturbed, yet pleased 
 at the passionate avowals, she hurried away in 
 search of her sister. She needed no more assur- 
 ance of her attitude. 
 
THE FIRST DARK SHADOW 191 
 
 So the twins and Connie jcame into an empty 
 room, and chattered away to themselves abstract- 
 edly for an hour. Then Prudence came down. In- 
 stantly Connie was asked the all-important question : 
 
 "Are your feet wet?" 
 
 Connie solemnly took three steps across the room. 
 "Hear me sqush," she said proudly. She did 
 sqush, too! 
 
 "Constance Starr, I am ashamed of you! This 
 is positively wicked. You know it is a law of the 
 Medes and Persians that you change your shoes 
 and stockings as soon as you come in when your 
 feet are wet. Do it at once. I'll get some hot 
 water so you can soak your feet, too. And you 
 shall drink some good hot peppermint tea, into the 
 bargain. I'll teajch you to sit ansund in wet clothes ! 
 Do you think I want an invalid on my hands?" 
 
 "Oh, don't be so fussy," said Connie fretfully, 
 "wet feet don't do any harm." But she obligingly 
 soaked her feet, and drank the peppermint. 
 
 "Are your feet wet, twins?" 
 
 "No," said Lark, "we have better judgment than 
 to go splashing through the wet old snow. — ^What's 
 the matter with you, Carol? Why don't you sit 
 still? Are your feet wet?" 
 
192 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "No, but it's too hot in this room. My clothes 
 feel sticky. May I open the door, Prudence?" 
 
 "Mercy, no! The snow is blowing a hurricane 
 now. It isn't very hot in here, Carol. You've been 
 running outdoors in the cold, and that makes it 
 seem hot. You must peel the potatoes now, twins, 
 it's time to get supper, Carol, you run up-stairs 
 and ask papa if he got his feet wet. Between him 
 and Connie, I do not have a minute's peace in the 
 winter time !" 
 
 "You go. Lark," said Carol. "My head aches." 
 
 "Do you want me to rub it?" asked Prudence, as 
 Lark skipped up-stairs for her twin. 
 
 "No, it's just the closeness in here. It doesn't 
 ache very bad. If we don't have more fresh air, 
 we'll all get something and die. Prudence. — I 
 tell you that. This room is perfectly stuffy. — I do 
 not want to talk any more." And Carol got up 
 from her chair and walked restlessly about the 
 room. 
 
 But Carol was sometimes given to moods, and 
 so, without concern. Prudence went to the kitchen 
 to prepare the evening meal. 
 
 "Papa says his feet are not wet, and that you are 
 a big simpleton, and — Oh, did you make cinnamon 
 
THE FIRST DARK SHADOW 193 
 
 rolls to-day, Prue? Oh, goody! Carrie, come on 
 out! Look, — she made cinnamon rolls." 
 
 Connie, too, hastened out to the kitchen in her 
 bare feet, and was promptly driven back by the 
 watchful Prudence. 
 
 "I just know you are going to be sick, Connie, — 
 I feel it in my bpnes. And walking out in that 
 cold kitchen in your bare feet! You can just drink 
 some more peppermint tea for that, now." 
 
 "Well, give me a cinnamon roll to go with it," 
 urged Connie. "Peppermint is awfully dry, taken 
 by itself." 
 
 Lark hooted gaily at this sentiment, but joined 
 her sister in pleading for cinnamon rolls. 
 
 "No, wait until supper is ready. You do not 
 need to help peel the potatoes to-night, Carol. Run 
 back where it is warm, and you must not read if 
 your head aches. You read too much anyhow. I'll 
 help Lark with the potatoes. No, do not take the 
 paper, Carol, — I said you must not read." 
 
 Then Lark and Prudence, working together, and 
 talking much, prepared the supper for the family. 
 When they gathered about the table. Prudence 
 looked critically at Connie. 
 
 "Are you beginning to feel sick? Do you feel 
 
194 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 like sneezing, or any thing? — Connie's awftdly 
 naughty, papa. Her feet were just oozing water, 
 and she sat there in her wet shoes and stockings, 
 just like a stupid child. — Aren't you going to eat 
 any supper, Carol? Are you sick? What is the 
 matter? Does your head still ache?" 
 
 "Oh, it doesn't ache exactly, but I doi not feel 
 hungry. No, I am not sick. Prudence, so don't 
 stew about it. I'm just not hungry. The meat is 
 too greasy, and the potatoes are lumpy. I think 
 I'll take a cinnamon roll." But she only picked it 
 to pieces idly. Prudence watched her with the in- 
 tense suspicious gaze of a frightened mother bird. 
 
 "There are some canned oysters out there, Carol. 
 If I make you some soup, will you eat it?" 
 
 This was a great concession, for the canned oy- 
 sters were kept in anticipation of unexpected com- 
 pany. But Carol shook her head impatiently. "I 
 am not hungry at all," she said. 
 
 "I'll open some pineapple, or those beautiful 
 pickled peaches Mrs. Adams gave us, or — or any- 
 thing, if you'll just eat something, Carrie." 
 
 Still Carol shook her head. "I said I wasn't 
 hungry. Prudence." But her face was growing 
 very red, and her eyes were strangely bright. She 
 
THE FIRST DARK SHADOW 195 
 
 moved her hands with unnatural restless motions, 
 and frequently lifted her shoulders in a peculiar 
 manner. 
 
 "Do your shoulders hurt, Carol?" asked her 
 father, who was also watching her anxiously. 
 
 "Oh, it feels kind of — ^well — tight, I guess, in my 
 chest. But it doesn't hurt. It hurts a little when 
 I breathe deep." 
 
 "Is your throat still sore, Carol ?" inquired Lark. 
 "Don't you remember saying you couldn't swallow 
 when we were coming home from school?" 
 
 "It isn't sore now," said Carol. And as though 
 intolerant of further questioning, she left the din- 
 ing-room quickly. 
 
 "Shall I put flannel on her chest and throat, 
 father?" asked Prudence nervously. 
 
 "Yes, and if she gets worse we will call the doc- 
 tor. It's probably just a cold, but we must — • — " 
 
 "It isn't diphtheria, papa, you know that," cried 
 Prudence passionately. 
 
 For there were four reported gases of that dread 
 disease in Mount Mark. 
 
 But the pain in Carol's chest did grow worse, and 
 she became so feverish that she began talking in 
 quick broken sentences. 
 
196 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "It was too hot! — Don't go away, Larkie!— ^ 
 Her feet were wet, and it kept squshing out. — I 
 guess I'm kind of sick, Prue. — Don't put that 
 thing on my head, it is strangling me! — Oh, I 
 can't get my breath !" And she flung her hand out 
 sharply, as though to push something away from 
 her face. 
 
 Then Mr. Starr went to the telephone and hur- 
 riedly called the doctor. Prudence meanwhile had 
 undressed Carol, and put on her little pink flannel 
 nightgown. 
 
 "Go out in the kitchen, girls, and shut the door," 
 she said to her sisters, who stood close around the 
 precious twin, so suddenly stricken. "Fairy!" she 
 cried. "Go at once. It may be catching. Take 
 the others with you. And keep the door shut." 
 
 But Lark flung herself on her knees beside her 
 twin, and burst into choking sobs. "I won't go," 
 she cried. "I won't leave Carrie. I will not, Pru- 
 dence !" 
 
 "Oh, it is too hot," moaned Carol. "Oh, give 
 me a drink! Give me some snow. Prudence. Oh, 
 it hurts!" And she pressed her burning hands 
 against her chest. 
 
 "Lark," said her father, stepping quickly to her 
 
THE FIRST DARK SHADOW 197 
 
 side, "go out to the kitchen at once. Do you want 
 to make Carrie worse?" And Lark, cowed and 
 quivering, rushed into the kitchen and closed the 
 door. 
 
 "I'll carry her up-stairs to bed, Prue," said her 
 father, striving to render his voice natural for the 
 sake of the suffering oldest daughter, whose tense 
 white face was frightening. 
 
 Together they carried the child up the stairs. 
 "Put her in our bed," said Prudence. "I'll— I'll— 
 if it's diphtheria, daddy, she and I will stay up- 
 stairs here, and the rest of you must stay down. 
 You can bring our food up to the head of the stairs, 
 and I'll come out and get it. They can't take Carol 
 away from the parsonage." 
 
 "We will get a nurse, Prudence. We couldn't 
 let you run a risk like that. It would not be right. 
 If I could take care of her properly myself, I " 
 
 "You couldn't, father, and it would be wicked 
 for you to take such chances. What would the — 
 others do without you? But it would not make 
 any difference about me. I'm not important. He 
 can give me anti-toxin, and I'm such a healthy girl 
 there will be no danger. But she must not be shut 
 alone with a nurse. She wbuld die I" 
 
198 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 And Carol took up the words, screaming, "I will 
 die! I will die! Don't leave me. Prudence. Don't 
 shut me up alone. Prudence! Prudence!" 
 
 Down-stairs in the kitchen, three frightened girls 
 clung to one another, crying bitterly as they heard 
 poor Carol's piercing screams. 
 
 "It is pneumonia," said the doctor, after an ex- 
 amination. And he looked at Prudence [critically. 
 "I think we must have a nurse for a few days. It 
 may be a little severe, and you are not quite strong 
 enough." Then, as Prudence remonstrated, "Oh, 
 yes," he granted, "you shall stay with her, but if 
 it is very serious a nurse will be of great service. 
 I will have one come at once." Then he paused, 
 and listened to the indistinct sobbing that floated up 
 from the kitchen. "Can't you send those girls away 
 for the night, — ^to some of the neighbors? It will 
 be much better." 
 
 But this the younger girls stubbornly refused to 
 do. "If you send me out of the house when Carol 
 is sick, I will kill myself," said Lark, in such a 
 strange voice that the doctor eyed her sharply. 
 
 "Well, if you will all stay down-stairs and keep 
 quiet, so as not to annoy your sister," he fconsented 
 
THE FIRST DARK SHADOW 199 
 
 grudgingly. "The least sobbing, or confusion, or 
 excitement, may make her much worse. Fix 
 up a bed on the floor down here, all of you, and 
 go to sleep." 
 
 "I won't go to bed," said Lark, looking up at the 
 doctor with agonized eyes. "I won't go to bed 
 while Carol is sick." 
 
 "Give her a cup of something hot to drink," he 
 said to Fairy curtly. 
 
 "I won't drink anything," said Lark. "I won't 
 drink anything, and I won't eat a bite of anything 
 until Carol is well. I won't sleep, either." 
 
 The doctor took her hand in his, and deftly 
 pushed the sleeve above the elbow. 
 
 "You can twist my arm if you like, but I won't 
 eat, and I won't drink, and I won't sleep." 
 
 The doctor smiled. Swiftly inserting the point 
 of his needle in her arm, he released her. "I won't 
 hurt you, but I am pretty sure you will be sleeping 
 in a few minutes." He turned to Fairy. "Get her 
 ready for bed at once. The little one can wait." 
 
 An hour later, he came down-stairs again. "Is 
 she sleeping?" he asked of Fairy in a low voice. 
 "That is good. You have your work cut out for 
 
200 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 you, my girl. The little one here will be all right, 
 but this twin is in nearly as bad shape as the one 
 up-stairs." 
 
 "Oh! Doctor! Larkie, too!" 
 
 "Oh, she is not sick. But she is too intense. She 
 is taking this too hard. Her system is not well 
 enough developed to stand such a strain very long. 
 Something would give way, — ^maybe her brain. She 
 must be watched. She must eat and sleep^ There 
 is school to-morrow, isn't there?" 
 
 "But I am sure Lark will not go. Doctor. She 
 has never been to school a day in her life without 
 Carol. I am sure she will not go!" 
 
 "Let her stay at home, then. Don't get her ex- 
 cited. But make her work. Keep her doing little 
 tasks about the house, and send her on errands. 
 Talk to her a good deal. Prudence will have her 
 hands full with the other twin, and you'll have all 
 you can do with this one. I'm depending on you, 
 my girl. You mustn't fail me." 
 
 That was the beginning of an anxious week. For 
 two days Carol was in delirium most of the time, 
 calling out, crying, screaming affrightedly. And 
 Lark crouched at the foot of the stairs, hands 
 
THE FIRST DARK SHADOW 201 
 
 clenched passionately, her slender form tense and 
 motionless. 
 
 It was four in the afternoon, as the doctor was 
 coming down from the sick room, that Fairy called 
 him into the dining-room with a suggestive glance. 
 
 "She won't eat," she said. "I have done every- 
 thing possible, and I had the nurse try. But she 
 will not eat a bite. I — I'm sorry, Doctor, but I 
 can't make her." 
 
 "What has she been doing ?" 
 
 "She's been at the foot of the stairs all day. She 
 won't do a thing I tell her. She won't mind the 
 nurse. Father told her to keep away, too, but she 
 does not pay any attention. When I speak to her, 
 she does not answer. When she hears you coming 
 down, she runs away and hides, but she goes right 
 back again." 
 
 "Can your father make her eat ? If he commands 
 her?" 
 
 "I do not know. I doubt it. But we can try. 
 Here's some hot soup, — I'll call father." 
 
 So Lark was brought into the dining-room, and 
 her father came down the stairs. The doctor whis- 
 pered an explanation to him in the hall. 
 
202 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Lark," said her father, gently but very firmly, 
 "you must eat, or you will be sick, too. We need 
 all of our time to look after Carol to-day. Do you 
 want to keep us away from her to attend to you?" 
 
 "No, father, of course not. I wish you would 
 all go right straight back to Carrie this minute and 
 leave me alone. I'm all right. But I can't eat until 
 Carol is well." 
 
 Her father drew a chair to the table and said, 
 "Sit down and eat that soup at once, Larkie." 
 
 Lark's face quivered, but she turned away. "I 
 can't, father. You don't understand. I can't eat, — 
 I really can't. Carrie's my twin, and — oh, father, 
 don't you see how it is ?" 
 
 He stood for a moment, frowning at her thought- 
 fully. Then he left the room, signing for the doc- 
 tor to follow. "I'll send Prudence down," he said. 
 "She'll manage some way." 
 
 "I must stay here until I see her eat it," said 
 the doctor. "If she won't do it, she must be kept 
 under morphine for a few days. But it's better 
 not. Try Prudence, by all means." 
 
 So Prudence, white-faced, eyes black-circled, 
 came down from the room where she had served 
 her sister many weary hours. The doctor was 
 
THE FIRST PARK SHADOW 203 
 
 standing in the center of the room. Fairy was 
 hovering anxiously near Lark, rigid at the window. 
 
 "Larkie," whispered Prudence, and with a bitter 
 cry the young girl leaped into her sister's arms. 
 
 Prudence caressed and soothed her tenderly. 
 "Poor little Larkie," she murmured, "poor little 
 twinnie! — But Carol is resting pretty well now, 
 Lark. She's coming through all right. She was 
 conscious several times to-day. The first time she 
 just looked up at me and smiled and whispered, 
 'Hard luck, Prue.* Then a little later she said, 
 'Tell Larkie I'm doing fine, and don't let her worry.' 
 Pretty soon she spoke again, 'You make Lark be 
 sensible, Prue, or she'll be sick, too.' Once again 
 she started to say something about you, but she 
 was too sick to finish. 'Larkie is such a — ,' but that 
 was as far as she could go. She was thinking of 
 you all the time. Lark. She is so afraid you'll 
 worry and make yourself sick, too. She would be 
 heartbroken if she was able to see you, and you were 
 too sick to come to her. lYou must keep up your 
 strength for Carol's sake. If she is conscious to- 
 morrow, we're going to bring you up a while to see 
 her. She can hardly stand being away from you, I 
 know. But you must get out-of-doors, and bring 
 
204 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 some color to your cheeks, first. It would make 
 her miserable to see you like this." 
 
 Lark was still sobbing, but more gently now, and 
 she still clung to her sister. 
 
 "To-morrow, Prudence ? Honestly, may I go up 
 to-morrow? You're not just fooling me, are you? 
 You wouldn't do that !" 
 
 "Of course I wouldn't. Yes, you really may, if 
 you'll be good and make yourself look better. It 
 would be very bad for Carrie to see you so white 
 and wan. She would worry. Have you been eat- 
 ing? You must eat lots, and then take a good run 
 out-of-doors toward bedtime, so you will sleep well. 
 It will be a good tonic for Carol to see you bright 
 and fresh and rosy." 
 
 "Oh, I can't bear to be fresh and rosy when Car- 
 rie is sick!" 
 
 "It hurts, — ^but you are willing to be hurt for 
 Carol's sake! You will do it on her account. It 
 will do her so much good. Now sit down and eat 
 your soup, and I'll stay here a while and tell you 
 all about her. I gave her the pansies you bought 
 her, — it was so sweet of you, too, Larkie. It must 
 have taken every cent of your money, didn't it? I 
 suppose you ordered them over the telephone, since 
 
' THE FIRST DARK SHADOW 205 
 
 you wouldn't leave the house. When I told Carol 
 you got them for her, she took them in her hand 
 and held them under the covers. Of course, they 
 wilted right away, but I knew you would like Carrie 
 to have them close to her. — Oh, you must eat it 
 all. Lark. It looks very good. I must take a little 
 of it up to Carol, — ^maybe she can eat some. — ■ 
 And you will do your very best to be strong and 
 bright and rosy — for Carol — won't you?" 
 
 "Yes, I will, — I'll go and run across the field a 
 few times before I go to bed. Yes, I'll try my very 
 best." Then she looked up at the doctor, and added : 
 "But I wouldn't do it for you, or anybody else, 
 either." 
 
 But the doctor only smiled oddly, and went away 
 up-stairs again, wondering at the wisdom that God 
 has placed in the hearts of women! 
 
 Dreary miserable days and nights -followed after 
 that. And Prudence, to whom Carol, even in de- 
 lirium, clung with such wildness that they dare not 
 deny her, grew weary-eyed and wan. But when 
 the doctor, putting his hand on her shoulder, said, 
 "It's all right now, my dear. She'll soon be as well 
 as ever," — then Prudence dropped limply to the 
 floor, trembling weakly with the great happiness. 
 
206 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Good Methodist friends from all over Mount 
 Mark came to the assistance of the parsonage fam- 
 ily, and many gifts and delicacies and knick-knacks 
 were sent in to tempt the appetite of the invalid, 
 and the others as well. 
 
 "You all need toning up," said Mrs. Adams 
 crossly, "you've all gone clear under. A body 
 would think the whole family had been down with 
 something !" 
 
 Carol's friends at the high school, and the mem- 
 bers of the faculty also, took advantage of this 
 opportunity to show their love for her. And 
 Professor Duke sent clear to Burlington for a great 
 basket of violets and lilies-of-the-valley, "For our 
 little high-school song-bird," as he wrote on the 
 card. And Carol dimpled with delight as she 
 read it. 
 
 "Now you see for yourself. Prudence," she de- 
 clared. "Isn't he a duck?" 
 
 When the little parsonage group, entire, gathered 
 once more around the table in the "real dining- 
 room," they were joyful indeed. It was a gala oc- 
 casion! The very best china and silverware were 
 brought out in Carol's honor. The supper v/as one 
 
THE FIRST DARK SHADOW 207 
 
 that would have gratified the heart of a bishop, at 
 the very least ! 
 
 "Apple pie, with pure pream, Carol," said Lark 
 ecstatically, for apple pie with pure cream was the 
 favorite dessert of the sweet-toothed twins. And 
 Lark added earnestly, "And I don't seem to be very 
 hungry to-night, Carol, — I don't want any pie. You 
 shall have my piece, too !" 
 
 "I said I felt it in my bones, you remember," 
 said Prudence, smiling at Carol, "but my mental 
 compass indicated Connie when it should have 
 pointed to Carol ! And I do hope, Connie dear, that 
 this will be a lesson to you, and impress upon you 
 that you must always change your shoes and stock- 
 ings when your feet are wet!" 
 
 And for the first time in many days, clear, happy- 
 hearted laughter rang out in the parsonage. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 PRACTISING ECONOMY 
 
 IT was a dull dreary day early in December. Pru- 
 dence and Fairy were sewing in the bay window 
 of the sitting-room. 
 
 "We must be sure to have all the scraps out of 
 the way before Connie gets home," said Prudence, 
 carefully fitting together pieces of a dark, warm, 
 furry material. "It has been so long since father 
 wore this coat, I am sure she will not recognize it." 
 
 "But she will ask where we got it, and what shall 
 we say?" 
 
 "We must tell her it is goods we have had in 
 the house for a long time. That is true. And 
 I made this fudge on purpose to distract her 
 attention. If she begins to ask questions, we must 
 urge her to have more candy. Poor child!" she 
 added very sympathetically. "Her heart is just set 
 on a brand-new coat. I know she will be bitterly 
 disappointed. If the members would just pay up 
 we could get her one. November and December are 
 208 
 
PRACTISING ECONOMY 209 
 
 such bad months for parsonage people. Coal to 
 buy, feed for the cow and the horse and the chick- 
 ens, and Carol's sickness, and Larkie's teeth! Of 
 course, those last are not regular winter expenses, 
 but they took a lot of money this year. Every one 
 is getting ready for Christmas now, and forgets that 
 parsonage people need Christmas money, too. No- 
 vember and December are always my bitter months. 
 Fairy, — ^bitter months !" 
 
 Fairy took a pin from her mouth. "The velvet 
 collar and cuffs will brighten it up a good bit. It's 
 really a pretty material. I have honestly been 
 ashamed of Connie the last few Sundays. It was 
 so cold, and she wore only that little thin summer 
 jacket. She must have been half frozen." 
 
 "Oh, I had her dressed warmly underneath, very 
 warmly indeed," declared Prudence. "But no mat- 
 ter how warm you are underneath, you look cold if 
 you aren't visibly prepared for winter weather. It's 
 a fortunate thing the real cold weather was so slow 
 in coming. I kept hoping enough money would 
 come in to buy her a coat for once in her life." 
 
 "She has been looking forward to one long 
 enough," put in Fairy. "This will be a bitter blow 
 to her. And yet it is not such a bad-looking coat. 
 
210 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 after all." And she quickly ran up a seam on the 
 machine. 
 
 "Here comes Connie!" Prudence hastily swept 
 a pile of scraps out of sight, and turned to greet 
 her little sister with a cheery smile. 
 
 "Come on in, Connie," she cried, with a bright- 
 ness she did not feel. "Fairy and I are making you 
 a new coat. Isn't it pretty? And so warm! See 
 the nice velvet collar and cuffs. We want to fit it 
 on you right away, dear." 
 
 Connie picked up a piece of the goods and exam- 
 ined it intently. 
 
 "Don't you want some fudge, Connie?" ex- 
 claimed Fairy, shoving the dish toward her hur- 
 riedly. 
 
 Connie took a piece from the plate, and thrust it 
 between her teeth. Her eyes were still fastened 
 upon the brown furry cloth. 
 
 "Where did you get this stuff?" she inquired, as 
 soon as she was able to speak. 
 
 "Oh, we've had it in the house quite a while," 
 said Prudence, adding swiftly, "Isn't it warm, Con- 
 nie? Oh, it does look nice, doesn't it. Fairy? Do 
 you want it a little shorter, Connie, or is that about 
 right?" 
 
PRACTISING ECONOMY 211 
 
 "About right, I guess. Did you ever have a coat 
 like this, Prudence? I don't seem to remember it." 
 
 "Oh, no, it wasn't mine. Take some more candy, 
 Connie. Isn't it good? — Let's put a liitlc more 
 fullness in the sleeves. Fairy. It's more stylish this 
 year. — The collar fits very nicely. The velvet 
 gives it such a rich tone. And brown is so becom- 
 ing to you." 
 
 "Thanks," said Connie patiently. ".Was this 
 something of yours. Fairy?" 
 
 "Oh, no, we've just had it in the house quite a 
 while. It comes in very handy right now, doesn't 
 it? It'll make you such a serviceable, stylish coat. 
 Isn't it about time for the twins to get here, Pru- 
 dcnge? I'm afraid they are playing along the road. 
 Those firls get more careless every day of their 
 lives." 
 
 "Well, if this didn't belong to one of you, whose 
 was it?" demanded Connie. "I know the twins 
 never had anything like this. It looks kind of fa- 
 miliar to me. Where did it come from?" 
 
 "Out of the trunk in the garret, Connie. Don't 
 you want some more fudge ? I put a lot of nuts in, 
 especially on your account." 
 
 "It's good," said Connie, taking another piece. 
 
212 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 She examined the cloth- very closely. "Say, Pru- 
 dence, isn't this that old brown coat of father's?" 
 
 Fairy shoved her chair back from the machine, 
 and ran to the window. "Look, Prue," she cried. 
 "Isn't that Mrs. Adams coming this way? I won- 
 der " 
 
 "No, it isn't," answered Connie gravely. "It's 
 just Miss Avery getting home from school. — Isn't 
 it, Prudence? Father's coat, I mean?" 
 
 "Yes, Connie, it is," said Prudence, very, very 
 gently. "But no one here has seen it, and it is such 
 nice cloth, — ^just exactly what girls are wearing 
 now." 
 
 "But I wanted a new coat !" Connie did not cry. 
 She stood looking at Prudence with her wide hurt 
 eyes. 
 
 "Oh, Connie, I'm just as sorry as you are," cried 
 Prudence, with starting tears. "I know just how 
 you feel about it, dearest. But the people didn't 
 pay father up last month, and nothing has come 
 in for this month yet, and we've had so much ex- 
 tra expense. — I will have to wear my old shoes, 
 too, Connie, and you know how they look! The 
 shoemaker says they aren't worth fixing, so I must 
 wear them as they are. — But maybe after Christ- 
 
PRACTISING ECONOMY 213 
 
 mas we can get you a coat. They pay up better 
 then." 
 
 "I think I'd rather wear my summer coat until 
 then," said Connie soberly. 
 
 "Oh, but you can't, dearest. It is too cold. 
 Won't you be a good girl now, and not make sister 
 feel badly about it? It really is becoming to you, 
 and it is nice and warm. You know parsonage 
 people just have to practise economy, Connie, — it 
 can't be helped. Take some more fudge, dear, and 
 run out-of-doors a while. You'll feel better about 
 it presently, I'm sure." 
 
 Connie stood solemnly beside the table, her eyes 
 still fastened on the coat, cut down from her 
 father's. "Can I go and take a walk?" she asked 
 finally. 
 
 "May I, you mean," suggested Fairy. 
 
 "Yes, may I? Maybe I can reconcile myself 
 to it." 
 
 "Yes, do go and take a walk," urged Prudence 
 promptly, eager to get the small sober face beyond 
 her range of vision. 
 
 "If I am not back when the twins get home, go 
 right on and eat without me. I'll come back when 
 I get things straightened out in my mind." 
 
214 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 When Connie was quite beyond hearing, Pru- 
 dence dropped her head on the table and wept. "Oh, 
 Fairy, if the members just knew how such things 
 hurt, maybe they'd pay up a little better. How do 
 they expect parsonage people to keep up appear- 
 ances when they haven't any money?" 
 
 "Oh, now, Prue, you're worse than Connie! 
 There's no use to cry about it. Parsonage people 
 have to find happiness in spite of financial misery. 
 Money isn't the first thing with folks like us." 
 
 "No, but they have pledged it," protested Pru- 
 dence, lifting her tear-stained face. "They must 
 know we are counting on the money. Why don't 
 they keep their pledges ? They pay their meat bills, 
 and grocery bills, and house rent ! Why don't they 
 pay for their religion?" 
 
 "Now, Prue, you know how things go. Mrs. 
 Adams is having a lot of Christmas expense, and 
 she thinks her four dollars a month won't really be 
 missed. She thinks she will make it up along in 
 February, when Christmas is over. But she forgets 
 that Mrs. Barnaby with two dollars, and Mrs. Scott 
 with five, and Mr. Walter with seven, and Mr. 
 Holmes with three, and about thirty others with one 
 dollar each, are thinking the same thing! Each 
 
PRACTISING ECONOMY 215 
 
 member thinks for himself, and takes no account 
 of the others. That's how it happens." 
 
 Prudence squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. 
 "I wish you wouldn't mention names, Fairy," she 
 begged. "I do not object to lumping them in a 
 body and wondering about them. But I can't feel 
 right about calling them out by name, and criticiz- 
 ing them.— Besides, we do not really know which 
 ones they are who did not pay." 
 
 "I was just giving names for illustrative pur- 
 poses," said Fairy quickly. "Like as not, the very 
 ones I named are the ones who did pay." 
 
 "Well, get this stuff out of the way, and let's 
 set the table. Somehow I can't bear to touch it any 
 more. Poor little Connie! If she had cried about 
 it, I wouldn't have cared so much. But she looked 
 so— heartsick, didn't she. Fairy?" 
 
 Connie certainly was heartsick. More than that, 
 she was a little disgusted. She felt herself aroused 
 to take action. Things had gone too far! Go to 
 church in her father's coat she could not ! But they 
 hadn't the money. If Connie's father had been at 
 home, perhaps they might have reasoned it out to- 
 gether. But he had left town that morning, and 
 would not be home until Saturday evening, — too 
 
216 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 late to get a coat in time for Sunday, and Prudence 
 had said that Connie must be coated by Sunday! 
 She walked sturdily down the street toward the 
 "city," — ironically so called. Her face was stony, 
 her hands were clenched. But finally she bright- 
 ened. Her lagging steps quickened. She skipped 
 along quite cheerfully. She turned westward as she 
 reached the corner of the Square, and walked along 
 that business street with shining eyes. In front of 
 the First National Bank she paused, but after a few 
 seconds she passed by. On the opposite corner was 
 another bank. Wh^n she reached it, she walked in 
 without pausing, and the massive door swung be- 
 hind her. Standing on tiptoe, she confronted the 
 cashier with a grave face. 
 
 "Is Mr. Harold in?" she asked politely. 
 
 Mr. Harold was the president of the bank! It 
 was a little unusual. 
 
 "Yes, he is in," said the cashier doubtfully, "but 
 he is very busy." 
 
 "Will you tell him that Constance Starr wishes 
 to speak to him, privately, and that it is- very im- 
 portant ?" 
 
 The cashier smiled. "The Methodist minister's 
 little girl, isn't it? Yes, I will tell him," 
 
PRACTISING ECONOMY 217 
 
 Mr. Harold looked up impatiently at the inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 "It's the Methodist minister's little daughter, and 
 she says it is important for her to speak to you pri- 
 vately." 
 
 "Oh! Probably a message from her iathtr. 
 Bring her in."^ 
 
 Mr, Harold was one of the trustees of the Meth- 
 odist church, and prominent among them. His 
 keen feyes were intent upon Connie as she walked 
 in, but she did not falter. 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Harold?" she said, and 
 shook hands with him in the good old Methodist 
 way. 
 
 His ey^s twinkled, but he spoke briskly. "Did 
 your father send you on an errand?" 
 
 "No, father is out of town. I came on busi- 
 ness, — ^personal business, Mr. Harold. It is my 
 own affair." 
 
 "Oh, I see," and he smiled at the earnest little 
 face. "Well, what can I do for you, Miss Con- 
 stance?" 
 
 "I want to borrow five dollars from the bank, 
 Mr. Harold?" 
 
 "You — did Prudence send you?" 
 
218 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Oh, no, it is my own affair as I told you. I 
 came on my own account. I thought of stopping 
 at the other bank as I passed, but then I remem- 
 bered that parsonage people must always do busi- 
 ness with their own members if possible. And of 
 course, I would rather come to you than to a perfect 
 stranger." 
 
 "Thank you, — ^thank you very much. Five dol- 
 lars you say you want?" 
 
 "I suppose I had better tell you all about it. You 
 see, I need a winter coat, very badly. Oh, very 
 badly, indeed ! The girls were ashamed of me last 
 Sunday, I looked so cold outside, though I was 
 dressed plenty warm enough inside. I've been look- 
 ing forward to a new coat, Mr, Harold. I've never 
 liad one yet. There was always something to cut 
 down for me, from Prudence, or Fairy, or the 
 twins. But this time there wasn't anything to hand 
 down, and so I just naturally counted on a new 
 one." Connie paused, and looked embarrassed. 
 
 "Yes?" His voice was encouraging. 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you the rest, but I hope you won't 
 say anything about it, for I'd feel pretty cheap if I 
 thought all the Sunday-school folks knew about it. 
 — ^You see, the members need such a lot of njoney 
 
PRACTISING ECONOMY 219 
 
 now just before Christmas, and so they didn't pay 
 us up last month, and they haven't paid anything 
 this month. And we had to get coal, and feed, and 
 Larkie's teeth had to be fixed, and Carol was sick, 
 you remember. Seems to me Lark's teeth might 
 have been put off until after Christmas, but Pru- 
 dence says not. — And so there isn't any money left, 
 and I can't have a coat. But Prudence and Fairy 
 are making me one, — out of an old coat of 
 father's!" 
 
 Constance paused dramatically. Mr. Harold 
 never even smiled. He just nodded understand- 
 ingly. "I don't think I could wear a coat of 
 father's to church, — it's cut down of ipourse, but — ■ 
 there's something painful about the idea. I wouldn't 
 expect father to wear any of my clothes ! You can 
 see how it is, Mr. Harold. Just imagine how you 
 would feel wearing your wife's coat! — I don't think 
 I could listen to the sermons. I don't believe I could 
 be thankful for the mercy of wearing father's coat I 
 I don't see anything merciful about it. Do you?" 
 
 Mr. Harold did not speak. He gazed at Connie 
 sympathetically, and shook his head. 
 
 "It's too much, that's what it is. And so I thought 
 I'd just have to take things into my own hands and 
 
220 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 borrow the money. I can get a good coat for five 
 dollars. But if the bank is a little short right now, I 
 can get along with four, or even three. I'd rather 
 have the cheapest coat in town, than one made out 
 of father's. Do you think you can let me have it?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed we can." He seemed to find his 
 voice with an efifort. "Of course we can. We are 
 very glad to lend our money to responsible people. 
 We are proud to have your trade." 
 
 "But I must tell you, that it may take me quite 
 a while to pay it back. Father gives me a nickel a 
 week, and I generally spend it for candy. There's 
 another nickel, but it has to go in the collection, so 
 I can't really count that. I don't believe father 
 would let me neglect the heathen, even to pay for 
 a winter coat ! But I will give you the nickel every 
 week, and at that rate I can pay it back in a couple 
 of years easy enough. But I'd rather give the 
 nickels as fast as I get them. It's so hard to keep 
 money when you can get your hand on it, you know. 
 Sometimes I have quite a lot of money, — as much 
 as a quarter at a time, from doing errands for the 
 neighbors and things like that. I'll pay you as fast 
 as I can. Will that be all right? And the inter- 
 
PRACTISING ECONOMY 221 
 
 est, too, of course. How much will the interest 
 be on five dollars ?" 
 
 "Well, that depends on how soon you repay the 
 money, Connie. But I'll figure it out, and tell you 
 later." 
 
 "All right. I know I can trust you not to 'cheat 
 me, since you're a trustee. So I won't worry about 
 that." 
 
 Mr. Harold drew out a bulky book from his 
 pocket, and handed Connie a crisp new bill. Her 
 eyes sparkled as she received it. 
 
 "But, Connie," he continued, "I feel that I ought 
 to give you this. We Methodists have done a 
 wicked thing in forgetting our November pa3mients, 
 and I will just give you this bill to make up for it." 
 
 But Connie shook her head decidedly. "Oh, no! 
 I'll have to give it back, then. Father would not 
 stand that, — ^not for one minute. Of course, par- 
 sonage people get things given to them, quite a lot. 
 And it's a good thing, too, I must say! But we 
 don't hint for them, Mr. Harold. That wouldn't 
 be right." She held out the bill toward him, with 
 very manifest reluctance. 
 
 "Keep it, — we'll call it a loan then, Connie," he 
 
222 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 said. "And you may pay me back, five cents at a 
 time, just as is most convenient." 
 
 The four older girls were at the table vi?hen Con- 
 nie arrived. She exhaled quiet satisfaction from 
 every pore. Prudence glanced at her once, and then 
 looked aw^ay again. "She has reconciled herself," 
 she thought Dinner was half over before Con- 
 stance burst her bomb. She had intended waiting 
 until they were quite through, but it was more than 
 flesh and blood could keep! 
 
 "Are you going to be busy this afternoon, Pru- 
 dence?" she asked quietly. 
 
 "We are going to sew a little," said Prudence. 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I wanted you to go down-town with me after 
 school." 
 
 "Well, perhaps I can do that. Fairy will be able 
 to finish the coat alone." 
 
 "You needn't finish the coat! — I can't wear 
 father's coat to church, Prudence. It's a — it's a — 
 physical impossibility." 
 
 The twins laughed, Fairy smiled, but Prudence 
 gazed at "the baby" with tender pity. 
 
 "I'm so sorry, dearest, but we haven't the money 
 to buy one now." 
 
PRACTISING ECONOMY 223 
 
 "Will five dollars be enough?" inquired Connie, 
 and she placed her crisp new bill beside her plate. 
 The twins gasped ! They gazed at Connie with new 
 respect. They were just wishing they could handle 
 five-dollar bills so recklessly. 
 
 "Will you loan me twenty dollars until after 
 Christmas, Connie?" queried Fairy. 
 
 But Prudence asked, "Where did you get this 
 money, Connie?" 
 
 "I borrowed it, — from the bank," Connie replied 
 with proper gravity. "I have two years to pay it 
 back. Mr. Harold says they are proud to have my 
 trade." 
 
 Prudence was silent for several long seconds. 
 Then she inquired in a low voice, "Did you tell him 
 why you wanted it ?" 
 
 "Yes, I explained the whole situation." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 "He said he knew just how I felt, because he 
 knew he couldn't go to church in his wife's coat. — ■ 
 No, I said that myself, but he agreed with me. He 
 did not say very much, but he looked sympathetic. 
 He said he anticipated great pleasure in seeing me 
 in my new coat at church next Sunday." 
 
 "Go on with your luncheon, twins," said Pru- 
 
224 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 dence sternly. "You'll be late to school. — ^We'll see 
 about going down-town when you get home to- 
 night, Connie. Now, eat your luncheon, and don't 
 talk about coats any more." 
 
 When Connie had gone back to school, Prudence 
 went straight to Mr. Harold's bank. Flushed and 
 embarrassed, she explained the situation frankly. 
 "My sympathies are all with Connie," she said can- 
 didly. "But I am afraid father would not like it. 
 We are dead set against borrowing. After — our 
 mother was taken, we were crowded pretty close for 
 money. So we had to go in debt. It took us two 
 years to get it paid. Father and Fairy and I talked 
 it over then, and decided we would starve rather 
 than borrow again. Even the twins understood it, 
 but Connie was too little. She doesn't know how 
 heartbreaking it is to keep handing over every cent 
 for debt, when one is just yearning for other things. 
 — I do wish she might have the coat, but I'm afraid 
 father would not like it. She gave me the five dol- 
 lars for safekeeping, and I have brought it back." 
 
 Mr. Harold shopk his head. "No, Connie must 
 have her coat. This will be a good lesson for her. 
 It will teach her the bitterness of living under debt! 
 Besides, Prudence, I think in my heart that she is 
 
PRACTISING ECONOMY 225 
 
 right this time. This is a case where borrowing is 
 justified. Get her the coat, and I'll square the ac- 
 count with your father." Then he added, "And I'll 
 look after this salary business myself after this. 
 I'll arrange with the trustees that I am to pay your 
 'father his full salary the first of every month, and 
 that the church receipts are to be turned in to me. 
 And if they do not pay up, my lawyer can do a 
 little investigating! Little Connie earned that five 
 dollars, for she taught one trustee a sorry lesson. 
 And he will have to pass it on to the others in self- 
 defense! Now, run along and get the coat, and if 
 five dollars isn't enough you can have as much more 
 as you need. Your father Svill get his salary after 
 this, my dear, if we have to mortgage the parson- 
 age 1" 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 A BURGLARS VISIT 
 
 4<p^UEr 
 
 JL A small hand gripped Prudence's shoulder, 
 and again came a hoarsely whispered : 
 
 •True!" 
 
 Prudence sat up in bed with a bounce. 
 
 "What in the world ?" she began, gazing out into 
 the room, half -lighted by the moonshine, and see^ 
 ing Carol and Lark shivering beside her bed. 
 
 "Sh! Sh! Hush!" whispered Lark. "There's 
 a burglar in our room!" 
 
 By this time, even sound-sleeping Fairy was 
 awake. "Oh, there is!" she scoffed. 
 
 "Yes, there is," declared Carol with some heat. 
 "We heard him, plain as day. He stepped into the 
 closet, didn't he. Lark?" 
 
 "He certainly did," agreed Lark. 
 
 "Did you see him?" 
 
 "No, we heard him. Carol heard him first, and 
 she spoke, and nudged me. Then I heard him, too. 
 226 
 
A BURGLAR'S VISIT 227 
 
 He was at our dresser, but he shot across the room 
 and into the closet. He closed the door after him. 
 He's there now." 
 
 "You've been dreaming," said Fairy, lying down 
 again. 
 
 "We don't generally dream the same thing at the 
 same minute," said Carol stormily. "I tell you he's 
 in there." 
 
 "And you two great big girls came off and left 
 poor little Connie in there alone with a burglar, did 
 you? Well, you are nice ones, I must say." 
 
 And Prudence leaped out of bed and started for 
 the door, followed by Fairy, with the twins creep- 
 ing fearfully along in the rear. 
 
 "She was asleep," muttered Carol. 
 
 "We didn't want to scare her," added Lark. 
 
 Prudence was icareful to turn the switch by the 
 door, so that the room was in full light before she 
 entered. The closet door was wide open. Connie 
 was soundly sleeping. There was no one else in 
 the room. 
 
 "You see?" said Prudence sternly. 
 
 "I'll bet he took our ruby rings," declared Lark, 
 and the twins and Fairy ran to the dresser to look. 
 
 But a sickening realization had come hbme to 
 
228 PRUDENCE OE THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Prudence. In the lower hall, under the staircase, 
 was a small dark closet which they called the dun- 
 geon. The dungeon door was big and solid, and 
 was equipped with a heavy catch-lock. In this dun- 
 geon, Prudence kept the family silverware, and all 
 the money she had on hand, as it could there be 
 safely locked away. But more often than not. Pru- 
 dence forgot to lock it. 
 
 Mr: Starr had gone to Burlington that morning 
 to attend special revival services for three days, and 
 Prudence had fifty whole dollars in the house, an 
 unwonted sum in that parsonage! And the dun- 
 geon was not locked. Without a word, she slipped 
 softly out of the room, ran down the stairs, making 
 never a sound in her bare feet, and saw, somewhat 
 to her surprise, that the dungeon door was open. 
 Quickly she flung it shut, pushed the tiny key that 
 moved the "catch," and was rushing up the stairs 
 again with never a jpause for breath. 
 
 A strange sight met her eyes in the twins' room. 
 The twins themselves were in each other's arms, 
 sobbing bitterly. Fairy was still looking hurriedly 
 through the dresser drawers. 
 
 "They are gone," wailed Carol, "our beautiful 
 ruby rings that belonged to grandmother." 
 
A BURGLAR'S VISIT 229 
 
 "Nonsense," cried Prue with nervous anger, 
 "you've left them in the bathroom, or on the kitchen 
 shelves. You're always leaving them somewhere 
 over the place. Come on, and we'll search the 
 house just to convince you." 
 
 "No, no," shrieked the twins. "Let's lock the 
 door and get under the bed." 
 
 The rings were really valuable. Their grand- 
 mother, their mother's mother, whom they had 
 never seen, had divided her "real jewelry" between 
 her two daughters. And the mother of these par- 
 sonage girls, had further divided her portion to 
 make it reach through her own family of girls ! Pru- 
 dence had a small but beautiful chain of tiny pearls. 
 Fairy's share tonsisted of a handsome brooch, with 
 a "sure-enough diamond" in the center! The twin 
 rubies of another brooch had been reset in rings for 
 Carol and Lark, and were the priceless treasures of 
 their lives! And in the dungeon was a solid gold 
 bracelet, waiting until Connie's arm should be suffi- 
 ciently developed to do it justice. 
 
 "Our rings! Our rings!" the twins were wail- 
 ing, and Connie, awakened by the noise, was cry- 
 ing beneath the covers of her bed. 
 
 "Maybe we'd better phon6 for Mr. Allan," sug- 
 
230 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 gested Fairy. "The girls are so nervous they will 
 be hysterical by the time we finish searching the 
 house." 
 
 "Well, let's do the up-stairs then," said Prudence. 
 "Get your slippers and kimonos, and we'll go into 
 daddy's room." 
 
 But inside the door of daddy's room, with the 
 younger girls clinging to her, and Fairy looking 
 odd and disturbed. Prudence stopped abruptly and 
 stared about the room curiously. 
 
 "Fairy, didn't father leave his watch hanging on 
 that nail by the table ? Seems to me I saw it there 
 this morning. I remember thinking I would tease 
 him for being forgetful." 
 
 And the watch was not there. 
 
 "I think it was Sunday he left it," answered 
 Fairy in a low voice. "I remember seeing it on 
 the nail, and thinking he would need it, — ^but I be- 
 lieve it was Sunday." 
 
 Prudence looked under the bed, and in the closet, 
 but their father's room was empty. Should they go 
 farther? For a moment, the girls stood looking at 
 one another questioningly. Then — ^they heard a 
 loud thud down-stairs, as of some one pounding on 
 a door. There was no longer any doubt. Some 
 
A BURGLAR'S VISIT 231 
 
 one was in the house! Connie and the twins 
 screamed again and clung to Prudence frantically. 
 And Fairy said, "I think we'd better lock the door 
 and stay right here until morning, Prue." 
 
 But Prudence faced them stubbornly. "If you 
 think I'm going to let any one steal that fifty dol- 
 lars, you are mistaken. Fifty dollars does not come 
 often enough for that, I can tell you." 
 
 "It's probably stolen already," objected Fairy. 
 
 "Well, if it is, we'll find out who did it, and have 
 them arrested. I'm going down to telephone to the 
 police. You girls must lock the door after me, and 
 stay right here." 
 
 The little ones screamed again, and Fairy said: 
 "Don't be silly, Prue, if you go I'm going with you, 
 of course. We'll leave the kiddies here and they can 
 lock the door. They'll be perfectly safe in here." 
 
 But the children loudly objected to this. If Prue 
 and Fairy went, they would go ! So down the stairs 
 they trooped, a timorous trembling crowd. Pru- 
 dence went at once to the telephone, and called up 
 the residence of the Allans, their neighbors across 
 the street. After a seemingly never-ending wait, 
 the kind-hearted neighbor left his bed to answer the 
 insistent telephone. Falteringly Prudence explained 
 
232 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 their predicament, and asked him to come and 
 search the house. He promised to be there in five 
 minutes, with his son to help. 
 
 "Now," said Prudence more cheerfully, "we'll 
 just go out to the kitchen and wait. It's quiet there, 
 and away from the rest of the house, and we'll be 
 perfectly safe." To the kitchen, then, they hurried, 
 and found real comfort in its smallness and secure- 
 ness. Prudence raked up the dying embers of the 
 fire, and Fairy drew the blinds to their lowest lira- 
 its. The twins and Connie trailed them fearfully 
 at every step. 
 
 When the fire was burning brightly. Prudence 
 spoke with great assurance. "I'll just run in to the 
 dungeon and see for sure if the money is there. I 
 do not honestly believe there is a soul in the house, 
 but I can't rest until I know that money is safe." 
 
 "You'll do nothing of the sort," said Fairy, 
 "you'll stay right here and wait with us. I do not 
 believe there's any one in the house, either, but if 
 there is, you shan't run into him by yourself. You 
 stay right where you are, and don't be silly. Mr, 
 Allan will do the investigating." 
 
 Every breath of wind against the windows drew 
 startled cries from the younger girls, and both Fairj^ 
 
A BURGLAR'S VISIT 233 
 
 and Prudence were white with anxiety when they 
 heard the loud voices of the Allans outside the 
 kitchen door. Prudence began crying nervously 
 the moment the two angels of mercy appeared be- 
 fore her, and Fairy told their tale of woe. 
 
 "Well, there now," Mr. Allan said with rough 
 sympathy, "you just got scared, that's all. Every- 
 thing's suspicious when folks get scared. I told 
 my wife the other day I bet you girls would get a 
 good fjight some time left here alone. Come on, 
 Jim, and we'll go over the house in a jiffy." 
 
 He was standing near the dining-room door. He 
 lifted his head suddenly, and seemed to sniff a little. 
 There was undoubtedly a faint odor of tobacco in 
 the house. 
 
 "Been any men in here to-night?" he asked. "Or 
 this afternoon? Think, now!" 
 
 "No one," answered Prudence. "I was alone all 
 afternoon, and there has been no one in this eve- 
 ning." 
 
 He passed slowly through the dining-room into 
 the hall, closely followed by his son and the five 
 girls, already much reassured. As he passed the 
 dungeon door he paused for a moment, listening 
 intently, his head bent. 
 
234 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Allan," cried Prudence, "let's look in 
 the dungeon first. I want to see if the money 
 is safe." Her hand was already on the lock, but 
 he shoved her away quickly. 
 
 "Is there any way out of that closet besides this 
 door?" he asked. 
 
 "No. We call it the dungeon," laughed Pru- 
 dence, her self-possession quite recovered. "It is 
 right under the stairs, and not even a mouse could 
 gnaw its way out, with this door shut." 
 
 "Who shut that door?" he inquired, still holding 
 Prudence's hand from the lock. Then without wait- 
 ing for an answer, he went on, "Let's go back in 
 the other room a minute. Come on, all of you." 
 In the living-room, he hurried to the telephone, and 
 spoke to the operator in a low voice. "Call the po- 
 lice headquarters, and have them send two or three 
 men to the Methodist parsonage, right away. 
 We've got a burglar locked in a closet, and they'll 
 have to get him out. Please hurry." 
 
 At this, the girls crowded around him again in 
 renewed fear. 
 
 "Don't be scared," he said calmly, "we're all 
 right. He's in there safe enough and can't get out 
 for a while. Now, tell me about it. How did you 
 
A BURGLAR'S VISIT 235 
 
 get him in the closet? Begin at the beginning, and 
 tell me all about it." 
 
 Carol began the story with keen relish. "I vfdke 
 up, and thought I heard some one in the room. I 
 supposed it was Prudence. I said, 'Prudence,' and 
 nobody answered, and everything was quiet. But 
 I felt there was some one in there. I nudged Lark, 
 and she woke up. He moved then, and we both 
 heard him. He was fumbling at the dresser, and 
 our ruby rings are gone. We heard him step across 
 the room and into the closet. He closed the door 
 after him, didn't he. Lark?" 
 
 "Yes, he did," agreed Lark. "His hand was on 
 the knob." 
 
 "So we sneaked out of bed, and went into Pru- 
 dence's room and woke her and Fairy." She looked 
 at Connie, and blushed. "Connie was asleep, and we 
 didn't waken her because we didn't want to frighten 
 her. We woke the girls, — and you tell the rest, 
 Prudence." 
 
 "We didn't believe her, of course. We went back 
 into their room and there was no one there. But 
 the rings were gone. While they were looking at 
 the dresser, I remembered that I forgot to lock the 
 dungeon door, where we keep the money and the 
 
236 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 silverware, and I ran down-stairs and slammed the 
 door and locked it, and went back up. I didn't hear 
 a sound down-stairs." ' 
 
 Mr. Allan laughed heartily. "Well, your burglar 
 was in that closet after the money, no doubt, and he 
 didn't hear you coming, and got locked in. Did you 
 make any noise coming down the stairs?" 
 
 "No. I was in my bare feet, and I tried to be 
 quiet because if there was any one in the house, I 
 did not want him coming at me in the dark. I ran 
 back up-stairs, and we looked in father's room. I 
 thought father had forgotten to take his watch with 
 him, but it wasn't there. — Do you really think it 
 was Sunday he forgot it, Fairy?" 
 
 "No," said Fairy, "it was there this afternoon. 
 The burglar's got it in the dungeon with him, of 
 course. — I just said it was Sunday to keep from 
 scaring the twins." 
 
 In a few minutes, they heard footsteps around 
 the house and knew the officers had arrived. Mr. 
 Allan let them into the house, four of them, and led 
 them out to the hall. There could be no doubt 
 whatever that the burglar was in the dungeon. He 
 had been busy with his knife, and the lock was 
 nearly removed. If the officers had been two min- 
 
A BURGLAR'S VISIT 237 
 
 utes later, the dungeon would have been empty. 
 The girls were sent up-stairs at once, with the Allan 
 boy as guard, — ^as guard, without regard for the 
 fact that he was probably more frightened than 
 any one of them. 
 
 The chief officer rapped briskly on the dungeon 
 door. Then he clicked his revolver. 
 
 "There are enough of us to overpower three of 
 you," he said curtly. "And we have men outside 
 the house, too. If you make any disturbance, we 
 shall all fire the instant the door is opened. If you 
 put your firearms on the floor, and hold both hands 
 over your head, you'll be well treated. If your 
 hands are not up, we fire on sight. Get your re- 
 volvers ready, boys." 
 
 Then the officer opened the door. Evidently the 
 burglar was wise enough to appreciate the futility of 
 fighting against odds. Perhaps he did not wish to 
 add the charge of manslaughter to that of robbery. 
 Certainly, he did not feel himself called to sudden 
 death. At any rate, his hands were above his head, 
 and in less than a second he was securely manacled. 
 
 The chief officer had been eying him closely. 
 "Say!" he exclaimed. "Aren't you Limber-Limb 
 Grant?" The burglar grinned, but did not answer. 
 
238 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "By jove!" shouted the officer. "It is! Call the 
 girls down here," he ordered, and when they ap- 
 peared, gazing at the burglar with mingled admira- 
 tion, pity and fear, he congratulated them with 
 considerable excitement. 
 
 "It's Limber-Limb Grant," he explained. "There's 
 a reward of five hundred dollars for him. You'll 
 get the money, as sure as you're born." Then he 
 turned again to the burglar. "Say, Grant, what's a 
 fellow like you doing on such a fifth-rate job as 
 this? A Methodist parsonage is not just in your 
 line, is it?" 
 
 Limber-Limb laughed sheepishly. ^'Well," he ex- 
 plained good-naturedly, "Chicago got too hot for 
 me. I had to get out in a hurry, and I couldn't get 
 my hands on any money. I had a fine lot of jewels, 
 but I was so pushed I couldn't use them. I came 
 here and loafed around town for a while, because 
 folks said Mount Mark was so fast asleep it did not 
 even wake up long enough to read the daily papers. 
 I heard about this parsonage bunch, and knew the 
 old man had gone off to get more religion. This 
 afternoon at the station I saw a detective from Chi- 
 cago get off the train, and I knew what that meant. 
 But I needed some cash, and so I wasn't above a 
 
A BURGLAR'S VISIT 239 
 
 little job on the side. I never dreamed of getting 
 done up by a bunch of preacher's kids. I went up- 
 stairs to get those family jewels I've heard about, 
 and one of the little ones gave the alarm. I already 
 had some of them, so I came down at once. I 
 stopped in the dungeon to get that money, and first 
 thing I knew the door banged shut. That's all. 
 You're welcome to the five hundred dollars, ladies. 
 Some one was bound to get it sooner or later, and 
 I'm partial to the ladies, every time." 
 
 Limber-Limb Grant was a modem thief of the 
 new class. At that moment, in Chicago, he had 
 in storage, a hundred thousand dollars' worth of 
 jewels, which he could not dispose of on the pres- 
 sure of the moment. The law was crowding him 
 close, and he was obliged to choose between meeting 
 the law, or running away from it. He ran. He 
 reached Mount Mark, and trusted to its drowsiness 
 for concealment for a few weeks. But that after- 
 noon the arrival of a detective gave him warning, 
 and he planned his departure promptly. A parson- 
 age occupied by only five girls held no terrors for 
 him, and with fifty dollars and a few fairly good 
 jewels, a man of his talent could accomplish 
 .wonders. 
 
240 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 But Mount Mark had aroused from its lethargy. 
 Limber-Limb Grant was in the hands of the law. 
 
 Mr. Starr had been greatly interested in the ac- 
 counts of the evangelistic services being held in Bur- 
 lington. The workers were meeting with marked 
 success, and Mr. Starr felt he should get in touch 
 with them. So on Thursday morning he took the 
 early east-bound train to Burlington. There he 
 sought out a conveniently located second-class hotel, 
 and took up residence. He attended the services at 
 the tabernacle in the afternoon and evening, and 
 then went to bed at the hotel. He slept late the next 
 morning. When he finally appeared, he noticed 
 casually, without giving it thought, that the clerk 
 behind the desk looked at him with marked interest. 
 Mr. Starr nodded cheerfully, and the clerk came at 
 once from behind the desk to speak to him. Two 
 or three other guests, who had been lounging about, 
 drew near. 
 
 "We've just been reading about your girls, sir," 
 said the clerk respectfully. "It's a pretty nervy 
 little bunch ! You must be proud of them !" 
 
 "My girls!" ejaculated Mr. Starr. 
 
 "Haven't you seen the morning paper? You're 
 
A BURGLAR^S VISIT 241 
 
 Mr. Starr, the Methodist minister at Mount Mark, 
 aren't you?" 
 
 "I am ! But what has happened to my girls ? Is 
 anything wrong ? Give me the paper !" 
 
 Mr. Starr was greatly agitated. He showed it 
 
 But the clerk tould not lose this opportunity to 
 create a sensation. It was a chance of a life- 
 time. "Why, a burglar got in the parsonage last 
 night," he began, almost licking his lips with satis- 
 faction. "The twins heard him at their dresser, and 
 when he stepped into the closet they locked him 
 in there, and yelled for the rest of the family. But 
 he broke away from them, and went down-stairs 
 and climbed down into the dungeon to get the 
 money. Then Prudence, she ran down-stairs alone 
 in the dark, and locked him in the dungeon, — pushed 
 him down-stairs or something like that, I believe, — < 
 and then telephoned for the police. And she stayed 
 on guard outside the dungeon until the police got 
 there, so he couldn't get away. And the police got 
 him, and found it was Limber-Limb Grant, a fa- 
 mous gentleman thief, and your girls are going to 
 get five hundred dollars reward for catching him." 
 
 Five minutes later, Mr. Starr and his suit-case 
 
242 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 were in a taxicab speeding toward Union Station, 
 and within eight minutes he was en route for Mount 
 Mark, — white in the face, shaky in the knees, but 
 tremendously proud in spirit. 
 
 Arriving at Mount Mark, he was instantly sur- 
 rounded by an exclamatory crowd of station 
 loungers. "Ride, sir? Glad to take you home for 
 nothing," urged Harvey Reel. Mount Mark was 
 enjoying more notoriety than ever before in the two 
 hundred years of its existence. The name of Pru- 
 dence was upon every tongue, and her father heard 
 it with satisfaction. In the parsonage he found at 
 least two-thirds of the Ladies' Aid Society, the trus- 
 tees and the Sunday-school superintendent, along 
 with a miscellaneous assortment of ordinary mem- 
 bers, mixed up with Presbyterians, Baptists and a 
 few unclassified outsiders. And Prudence was the 
 center of attraction. 
 
 She was telling the "whole story," for perhaps 
 the fifteenth time that morning, but she broke off 
 when her father hurried in and flung her arms about 
 him. "Oh, papa," she cried, "they mustn't praise 
 me. I had no idea there was a burglar in the house 
 when I ran down the stairs, and if I hadn't been 
 careless and left the dungeon unlocked the money 
 
A BURGLAR'S VISIT 243 
 
 would have been in no danger, and if the twins 
 hadn't wakened me I wouldn't have known there 
 was a burglar about the place, and if Fairy hadn't 
 kept me from rushing out to the dungeon to see if 
 the money was safe, he would have got away, and 
 — it took the policemen to get him out. Oh, I know 
 that is not very grammatical, father, but it's just 
 as true as if it were ! And I honestly can't see that 
 much credit is due me." 
 
 But Mount Mark did not take it so calmly. And 
 as for the Methodist church, — well, the Presbyte- 
 rian people used to say there was "no living with 
 those Methodists, since the girls caught a burglar 
 in the parsonage." Of course, it was important, 
 from the Methodist point of view. Pictures of the 
 parsonage and the church were in all the papers for 
 miles around, and at their very next meeting the 
 trustees decided to get the piano the Sunday-school 
 had been needing for the last hundred years ! 
 
 When the five hundred dollars arrived from Chi- 
 cago, Prudence felt that personally she had no real 
 right to the money. "We must divide it," she in- 
 sisted, "for I didn't earn it a bit more than any of 
 the others. But it is perfectly glorious to have five 
 hundred dollars, isn't it? Did you ever have five 
 
244 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 hundred dollars before? Just take it, father, and 
 use it for whatever we need. It's family money." 
 
 But he would not hear of this. "No," he said, 
 "put it in the bank, Prudence, for there will come a 
 time when you will want money very badly. Then 
 you will have it." 
 
 "Let's divide it then, — a hundred for each of 
 us," she urged. 
 
 Neither the younger girls nor their father 
 would consent to this. But when Prudence stood 
 very firm, and pleaded with them earnestly, they 
 decided to divide it. 
 
 "I will deposit two hundred and fifty dollars for 
 the four younger ones," he said, "and that will 
 leave you as much." 
 
 So it was settled, and Prudence was a happy girl 
 when she saw it safely put away in the bank. 
 
 "We can get it whenever we really need it, you 
 know," she told her father joyfully. "It's such a 
 gomfort to know it's there ! I feel just like a mil- 
 lionaire, I am sure. Do you think it would be all 
 right to send Limber-Limb Grant a letter of thanks 
 for it? We were horribly scared, but — ^well, I for 
 oncv am willing to be horribly scared for such a 
 lot of money as that !" 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 ROMANCE COMES 
 
 SOMETIMES, Methodists, or Presbyterians or 
 heretics, whatever we may be, we are irresisti- 
 bly impelled to the conclusion that things were 
 simply bound to happen! However slight the 
 cause, — still that cause was predestined from the 
 beginning of time. A girl may by the sheerest acci- 
 dent, step from the street-car a block ahead of her 
 destination, — ^an irritating incident. But as she 
 walks that block she may meet an old-time friend, 
 and a stranger. And that stranger, — ah, you can 
 never convince the girl that her stepping from the 
 car too soon was not ordered when the founda- 
 tions of the world were laid. 
 
 Even so with Prudence, good Methodist daughter 
 that she was. We ask her, "What if you had not 
 gone out for a ride that morning?" And Prudence, 
 laughing, answers, "Oh, but I had to go, you see." 
 "Well," we continue, "if you had not met him that 
 way, you could have met him some other way, I 
 245 
 
246 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 suppose." "Oh, no," declares Prudence decidedly, 
 "it had to happen just that way." 
 
 After all, down in plain ink on plain paper, it 
 was very simple. Across the street from the par- 
 sonage was a little white cottage set back among 
 tall cedars. In this cottage lived a girl named 
 Mattie Moore, — a common, unlovely, unexciting 
 girl, with whom Romance could not apparently be 
 intimately concerned. Mattie Moore taught a coun- 
 try school five miles out from town, and she rode 
 to and from her school, morning and evening, on a 
 bicycle. 
 
 [Years before, when Prudence was young and bi- 
 cycles were fashionable, she had been intensely fond 
 of riding. But as she gained in age, and bicycles 
 lost in popularity, she discarded the amusement as 
 unworthy a parsonage damsel. 
 
 One evening, early in June, when the world was 
 'fair to look upon, it was foreordained that Pru- 
 dence should be turning in at the parsonage gate 
 just as Mattie Moore whirled up, opposite, on her 
 dusty wheel. Prudence stopped to interchange po- 
 lite inanities with her neighbor, and Mattie, wheel- 
 ing the bicycle lightly beside her, came across the 
 street and stood beheath the parsonage maples with 
 
ROMANCE COMES 247 
 
 Prudence. They tallced of the weather, of the 
 coming summer, of Mattie's school, rejoicing that 
 one more week would bring freedom from books 
 for Mattie and the younger parsonage girls. 
 
 Then said Prudence, seemingly of her own free 
 will, but really directed by an all-controlling Provi- 
 dence, "Isn't it great fun to ride a bicycle ? I love 
 it. Sometime will you let me ride your wheel ?" 
 
 "Why, certainly. You may ride now if you like." 
 
 "No," said Prudence slowly, "I am afraid it 
 would not do for me to ride now. Some of the 
 members might see me, and — well, I am very 
 grown up, you know. — Of course," she added has- 
 tily, "it is different with you. You ride for busi- 
 ness, but it would be nothing but a frolic with me. 
 I want to get up at six o'clock and go early in the 
 morning when the world is fast asleep. Let me 
 take it to-morrow morning, will you? It is Satur- 
 day, and you won't be going to school." 
 
 "Yes, of course you may," was the hearty an- 
 swer. "You may stay out as long as you like. I'm 
 going to sew to-morrow. You make take it in the 
 parsonage now and keep it until morning. I al- 
 ways sleep late on Saturdays." 
 
 So Prudence delightedly tripped up the parson^ 
 
248 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 age board walk, wheeling the bicycle by her side. 
 She hid it carefully in the woodshed, for the twins 
 were rash and venturesome. But after she had gone 
 to bed, she confided her plan to Fairy. 
 
 "I'm going at six o'clock, and I'll be back in time 
 to get breakfast. But as you know, Fairy, my plans 
 do not always work out as I intend, so if I am a 
 little late, you'll get breakfast for papa and the girls, 
 like a dear, won't you?" , 
 
 Fairy promised. And early the next morning. 
 Prudence, in a plain gingham house dress, with the 
 addition of ai red sweater jacket and cap for warmth, 
 set out upon her secret ride. It was a magnificent 
 morning, and Prudence sang for pure delight as 
 she rode swiftly along the country roads. The 
 country was simply irresistible. It was almost in- 
 toxicating. And Prudence rode farther than she 
 had intended. East and west, north and south, she 
 went, apparently guided only by her own caprice. 
 She knew it was growing late, "but Fairy'll get 
 breakfast," she thought comfortably. 
 
 Finally she turned in a by-road, leading between 
 two rich hickory groves. Dismounting at the top of 
 a long hill, she gazed anxiously around her. No 
 one was in sight. The nearest house was two miles 
 
ROMANCE COMES 249 
 
 behind, and the road was long, and smooth, and in- 
 viting, and the hill was steep. Prudence yearned 
 for a good, soul-stirring coast, with her feet high 
 up on the framework of the wheel, and the pedals 
 flying around beneath her skirts. This was not the 
 new and modern model of bicycle. The pedals on 
 Mattie Moore's wheel revolved, whether one worked 
 them or not. 
 
 It seemed safe. The road sloped down gradually 
 at the bottom, with an incline on the other side. 
 What more could one desire. The only living thing 
 in sight besides birds gossiping in the leafy branches 
 and the squirrel scolding to himself, was a sober- 
 eyed serious mule peacefully grazing near the bot- 
 tom of the hill. 
 
 Prudence laughed gleefully, like a child. She 
 never laughed again in exactly that way. This was 
 the last appearance of the old irresponsible Pru- 
 dence. The curtain was just ready to drop. 
 
 "Here goes!" she cried, and leaping nimbly into 
 the saddle, she pedaled swiftly a few times, and 
 then lifted her feet to the coveted position. The 
 pedals flew around beneath her, just as she had an- 
 ticipated, and the wind whistled about her in a most 
 exhilarating way. 
 
250 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 But as she neared the bottom, a disastrous and 
 totally unexpected thing happened. The placid 
 mule, which had been righteously grazing beside 
 the fence, suddenly stalked into the middle of the 
 road. Prudence screamed, jerked the handle-bar to 
 the right, then to the left, and then, with a sicken- 
 ing thud, she landed head first upon some part of 
 the mule's anatomy. She did not linger there, how- 
 ever. She bounced on down to the ground, with a 
 little cry of pain. The bicycle crashed beside her, 
 and the mule, slightly startled, looked around at her 
 with ears raised in silent questioning. Then he 
 ambled slowly across the road, and deliberately con- 
 tinued his grazing. 
 
 Prudence tried to raise herself, but she felt sharp 
 pain. She heard some one leaping over the fence 
 near her, and wondered, without moving her head, 
 if it could be a tramp bent on highway robbery. The 
 next instant, a man was leaning over her. "It's not 
 a tramp," she thought, before he had time to speak. 
 
 "Are you hurt ?" he cried. "You poor child !" 
 
 Prudence smiled pluckily. "My ankle is hurt a 
 little, but I am not a child." 
 
 . The young man, in great relief, laughed aloud, 
 and Prudence joined him rather faintly. 
 
ROMANCE COMES 251 
 
 "I'm afraid I can not walk," she said. "I be- 
 lieve I've broken my ankle, maybe my whole leg, 
 for all I know. It — hurts— pretty badly !" 
 
 "Lie down like this," he said, helping her to a 
 more comfortable position, "do not move. May I 
 examine your foot?" 
 
 She shook her head, but he removed the shoe re- 
 gardless of her head-shake. "I believe it is 
 sprained. I am sure the bone is not broken. But 
 how in the world will you get home? How far is 
 it to Mount Mark? Is that where you live?" 
 
 "Yes," considering, "yes, I live there, and it must 
 be four miles, anyhow. What shall I do?" 
 
 In answer, he pulled off his coat, and arranged 
 it carefully by the side of the road on the grass. 
 Then jerking open the bag he had carried, he took 
 out a few towels, and three soft shirts. Hastily 
 rolling them together for a pillow, he added it to 
 the bed pro tern. Then he turned again to Pru- 
 dence. 
 
 "I'll carry you over here, and fix you as comfort- 
 ably as I can. Then I'll go to the nearest house and 
 get a wagon to take you home." 
 
 Prudence was not shy, and realizing that his plan 
 was the wise one, she made no objections when he 
 
252 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 came to help her across the road. "I think I can 
 walk if you lift me up." 
 
 But the first movement sent such a twinge of pain 
 through the wounded ankle that she clutched him 
 frantically, and burst into tears. "It hurts," she 
 tried, "don't touch me." 
 
 Without speaking, he lifted her as gently as he 
 could and carried her to the place he had prepared 
 for her. "Will you be warm enough?" he asked, 
 after he had stood looking awkwardly down upon 
 the sobbing girl as long as he could endure it. 
 
 "Yes," nodded Prudence, gulping down the big 
 sob rising in her throat. 
 
 "I'll run. Do you know which way is nearest 
 to a house ? It's been a long time since I passed one 
 coming this way." 
 
 "The way I came is the nearest, but it's two 
 miles, I think." 
 
 "I'll go as fast as I can, and you will be all right. 
 This confounded cross-cut is so out of the way that 
 no one will pass here for hours, I suppose. Now 
 lie as comfortably as you can, and do not worry. 
 I'm going to run." 
 
 Off he started, but Prudence, left alone, was sud- 
 denly frightened, "Please, oh, please," she called 
 
ROMANCE COMES 253 
 
 after him, and when he came back she buried her 
 face in shame, deep in the Hnen towel. 
 
 "I'm afraid," she whispered, crying again. "I 
 do not wish to be left alone here. A snake might 
 come, or a tramp." 
 
 He sat down beside her. "You're nervous. I'll 
 stay with you until you feel better. Some one may 
 come this way, but it isn't likely. A man I passed 
 on the road a ways back told me to cut through the 
 hickory grove and I would save a mile of travel. 
 That's how I happened to come through the woods, 
 and find you." He smiled a little, and Prudence, 
 remembering the nature of her accident, flushed. 
 Then, being Prudence, she laughed. 
 
 "It was my own fault. I had no business to go 
 coasting down like that. But the mule was so sta- 
 tionary. It never occurred to me that he contem- 
 plated moving for the next century at least. He 
 was a bitter disappointment." She looked down the 
 roadside where the mule was contentedly grazing, 
 with never so much as a sympathetic glance toward 
 his victim. 
 
 "I'm afraid your bicycle is rather badly done up." 
 
 "Oh, — whatever will Mattie Moore say to me? 
 It's borrowed. Oh, I see now, that it was just fool- 
 
254 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 ish pride that made me unwilling to ride during de- 
 cent hours. What a dunce I was, — as usual." 
 
 He looked at her curiously. This was beyond his 
 comprehension. 
 
 "The bicycle belongs to Mattie Moore. She lives 
 across the street from the parsonage, and I wanted 
 to ride. She said I could. But I was ashamed to 
 ride in the daytime, for fear some of the members 
 would think it improper for a girl of the parsonage, 
 and so I got up at six o'clock this morning to do it 
 on the sly. Somehow I never can remember that 
 it is just as bad to do things when you aren't seen 
 as when you are. It doesn't seem so bad, does it? 
 But of course it is. But I never think of that when 
 I need to be thinking of it. Maybe I'll remember 
 after this." She was silent a while. "Fairy'll have 
 to get breakfast, and she always gets father's eggs 
 too hard." Silence again. "Maybe papa'll worry. 
 But then, they know by this time that something aU 
 ways does happen to me, so they'll be prepared." 
 
 She turned gravely to the young man beside her. 
 He was looking down at her, too. And as their 
 eyes met, and clung for an instant, a slow dark 
 color rose in his face. Prudence felt a curious 
 
ROMANCE COMES 255 
 
 breathlessness, — caused by her hurting ankle, un- 
 doubtedly. 
 
 "My name is Prudence Starr, — I am the Meth- 
 odist minister's oldest daughter." 
 
 "And my name is Jerrold Harmer." He was 
 looking away into the hickory grove now. "My 
 home is in Des Moines." 
 
 "Oh, Des Moines is quite a city, isn't it? I've 
 heard quite a lot about it. It isn't so large as Chi- 
 cago, though, of course. I know a man who lives 
 in Chicago. We used to be great chums, and he 
 told me all about the city. Some day I must really 
 go there, — ^when the Methodists get rich enough to 
 pay their ministers just a little more salary." Then 
 she added thoughtfully, "Still, I couldn't go even 
 if I had the money, because I couldn't leave the 
 parsonage. So it's just as well about the money, 
 after all. But Chicago must be very nice. He told 
 me about the White City, and the big parks, and 
 the elevated railways, and all the pretty restaurants 
 and hotels. I love pretty places to eat. You might 
 tell me about Des Moines. Is it very nice? Are 
 there lots of rich people there? — Of course, I do 
 not really care any more about the rich people than 
 
256 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 the others, but it always makes a city seem grand 
 to have a lot of rich citizens, I think. Don't 
 you?" 
 
 So he told her about Des Moines, and Prudence 
 lay with her eyes half-closed, listening, and wonder- 
 ing why there was more music in his voice than in 
 most voices. Her ankle did not hurt very badly. 
 She did not mind it at all. In fact, she never gave 
 it a thought. From beneath her lids, she kept her 
 eyes fastened on Jerrold Harmer's long brown 
 hands, clasped loosely about his knees. And when- 
 ever she could, she looked up into his face. And 
 always there was that curious catching in her 
 breath, and she looked away again quickly, feeling 
 that to look too long was dangerous. 
 
 "I have talked my share now," he was 
 saying, "tell me all about yourself, and the par- 
 sonage, and your family. And who is Fairy ? And 
 do you attend the college at Mount Mark? You 
 look like a college girl." 
 
 "Oh, I am not," said Prudence, reluctant to make 
 the admission for the first time in her life. "I am 
 too stupid to be a college girl. Our mother is not 
 living, and I left high school five years ago and 
 have been keeping house for my father and sisters 
 
ROMANCE COMES 257 
 
 since then. I am twenty years old. How old are 
 you?" 
 
 "I am twenty-seven," and he smiled. 
 
 "Jerrold Harmer," she said slowly and very mu- 
 sically. "It is such a nice name. Do your friends 
 call you Jerry?" 
 
 "The boys at school called me Roldie, and some- 
 times Hammie. But my mother always called me 
 Jerry. She isn't living now, either. You call me 
 Jerry, will you?" 
 
 "Yes, I will, but it won't be proper. But that 
 never makes any difference to me, — except when 
 it might shock the members ! You want me to call 
 you Jerry, don't you ?" 
 
 "YeSj I do. And when we are better acquainted, 
 will you let me call you Prudence ?" 
 
 "Call me that now. — I can't be too particular, you 
 see, when I am lying on your coat and pillowed with 
 your belongings. You might get cross, and take 
 them away from me. — Did you go to college?" 
 
 "Yes, to Harvard, but I was not much of a stu- 
 dent. Then I knocked around a while, looking at 
 the world, and two years ago I went home to Des 
 Moines. I have been there ever since except for 
 little runs once in a while." 
 
258 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Prudence sighed. "To Harvard! — I am sorry 
 now that I did not go to college myself." 
 
 "Why ? There doesn't seem to be anything lack- 
 ing about you. What do you care about college?" 
 
 "Well, you went to college," she answered argu- 
 mentatively. "My sister Fairy is going now. She's 
 very clever, — oh, very. You'll like her, I am sure, — • 
 much better than you do me, of course." Prudence 
 was strangely downcast. 
 
 "I am sure I won't," said Jerrold Harmer, with 
 unnecessary vehemence. "I don't care a thing for 
 college girls. I know a lot of them, and — aw, they 
 make a fellow tired. I like home girls, — ^the kind 
 that stay at home, and keep house, and are sweet, 
 and comfortable, and all that." Jerrold flipped over 
 abruptly, and lay on the grass, his face on his arms 
 turned toward her face. They were quiet for a 
 while, but their glances were clinging. 
 
 "Your eyes are brown, aren't they?" Prudence 
 smiled, as though she had made a pleasant dis- 
 covery. 
 
 "Yes. Yours are blue. I noticed that, first 
 thing." 
 
 "Did you ? Do you like blue eyes ? They aren't 
 
ROMANCE COMES 259 
 
 as — ^well, as strong and expressive as brown eyes. 
 Fairy's are brown." 
 
 "I like blue eyes best. They are so much 
 brighter and deeper. You can't see clear to the 
 bottom of blue eyes, — ^you have to keep looking." 
 And he did keep looking. 
 
 "Did you play football at college? You are so 
 tall. Fairy's tall, too. Fairy's very grand-looking. 
 I've tried my best to eat lots, and exercise, and 
 make myself bigger, but — I am a fizzle." 
 
 "Yes, I played football. — But girls do not need 
 to be so tall as men. Don't you remember what 
 Orlando said about Rosalind, — 'just as tall as my 
 heart' ? I imagine you come about to my shoulder. 
 We'll measure as soon as you are on your feet 
 again." 
 
 "Are you going to live in Mount Mark now? 
 Are you coming to stay?" Prudence was almost 
 quivering as she asked this. It was of vital im- 
 portance. 
 
 "No, I will only be there a few days, but I shall 
 probably be back every week or so. Is your 
 father very strict? Maybe he would object to your 
 writing to me." 
 
260 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Oh, he isn't strict at all. And he will be glad 
 for me to write to you, I know. I write to two or 
 three men when they are away. But they are — oh, 
 I do not know exactly what it is, but I do not really 
 like to write to them. I believe I'll quit. It's such a 
 bother." 
 
 "Yes, it is, that's so. I think I would quit, if I 
 were you. I was just thinking how silly it is for 
 me to keep on writing to some girls I used to know. 
 Don't care two cents about 'em. I'm going to cut 
 it out as soon as I get home. But you will write to 
 me, won't you?" 
 
 "Yes, of course." Prudence laughed shyly. "It 
 seems so — well, nice, — to think of getting letters 
 from you." 
 
 "I'll bet there are a lot of nice fellows in Mount 
 Mark, aren't there?" 
 
 "Why, no. I can't think of any real nice ones! 
 Oh, they are all right. I have lots of friends here, 
 but they are — I do not know what! They do not 
 seem very nice. I wouldn't care if I never saw them 
 again. But they are good to me." 
 
 "Yes, I can grasp that," he said with feeling. 
 
 "Is Des Moines just full of beautiful girls?" 
 
 "I should say not. I never saw a real beautiful 
 
ROMANCE COMES 261 
 
 girl in Des Moines in my life. Or any place else, 
 for that matter, — until I came — You know when 
 you come right down to it, there are mighty few 
 girls that look — just the way you want them to 
 look." 
 
 Prudence nodded. "That's the way with men, 
 too. Of all the men I have seen in my life, I never 
 saw one before that looked just the way I wanted 
 him to." 
 
 "Before?" he questioned eagerly. 
 
 "Yes," said Prudence frankly. "You look just 
 as I wish you to." 
 
 And in the meanwhile, at the parsonage. Fairy 
 was patiently getting breakfast. "Prudence went 
 out for an early bicycle ride, — so the members 
 wouldn't catch her," she explained to the family. 
 "And she isn't back yet. She'll probably stay out 
 until afternoon, and then ride right by the grocery 
 store where the Ladies have their Saturday sale. 
 That's Prudence, all over. Oh, father, I did for- 
 get your eggs again, I am afraid they are too hard. 
 Here, twins, you carry in the oatmeal, and we will 
 eat. No use to wait for Prudence, — it would be 
 like waiting for the next comet." 
 
 Indeed, it was nearly noon when a small, one- 
 
262 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 horse spring wagon drove into the parsonage yard. 
 Mr. Starr was in his study with a book, but he 
 heard a piercing shriek from Connie, and a shrill 
 "Prudence !" from one of the twins. He was down- 
 stairs in three leaps, and rushing wildly out to the 
 little rickety wagon. And there was Prudence! 
 
 "Don't be frightened, father. I've just sprained 
 my ankle, and it doesn't hurt hardly any. But the 
 bicycle is broken, — ^we'U have to pay for it. You 
 can use my own money in the bank. Poor Mr. 
 Davis had to walk all the way to town, because 
 there wasn't any room for him in the wagon with 
 me lying down like this. Will you carry me in?" 
 
 Connie's single bed was hastily brought down- 
 stairs, and Prudence deposited upon it. "There's 
 no use to put me up-stairs," she assured them. 
 "I won't stay there. I want to be down here where 
 I can boss the girls." 
 
 The doctor came in, and bandaged the swollen 
 purple ankle. Then they had dinner, — ^they tried to 
 remember to call it luncheon, but never succeeded! 
 After that, the whole parsonage family grouped 
 about the little single bed in the cheery sitting-room. 
 
 "Whose coat is this, Prudence ?" asked Connie. 
 
ROMANCE COMES 263 
 
 "And where in the world did you get these tow- 
 els and silk shirts?" added Fairy. 
 
 Prudence blushed most exquisitely. "They are 
 Mr. Harmer's," she said, and glanced nervously at 
 her father. 
 
 "Whose ?" fchorused the family. And it was plain 
 to be seen that Lark was ready to take mental notes 
 with an eye to future stories. 
 
 "If you will sit down and keep still, I will tell 
 you all about it. But you must not interrupt me. 
 What time is it, Fairy ?" 
 
 "Two o'clock." 
 
 "Oh, two. Then I have plenty of time. Well, 
 when I got to that little cross-cut through the hick- 
 ory grove, about four miles out from town, I 
 thought I would coast down the long hill. Do you 
 remember that hill, father? There was no one in 
 sight, and no animals, except one hoary old mule, 
 grazing at the bottom. It was irresistible, abso- 
 lutely irresistible. So I coasted. But you know 
 yourself, father, there is no trusting a mule. They 
 are the most undependable animals." Prudence 
 looked thoughtfully down at the bed for a moment, 
 and added slowly, "Still, I have no hard feelings 
 
264 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 against the mule. In fact, I kind of like him. — 
 Well, anyway, just as I got to the critical place in 
 the hill, that mule skipped right out in front of me. 
 It looked as though he did it on purpose. I did not 
 have time to get out of his way, and it never oc- 
 curred to him to get out of mine, and so I went 
 Bang! right into him. And it broke Mattie Moore's 
 wheel, and upset me quite a little. But that mule 
 never budged! Jerry — er Harmer, — Mr. Harmer, 
 you know, — said he believed an earthquake could 
 coast downhill on to that mule without seriously 
 inconveniencing him. I was hurt a little, and 
 couldn't get up. And so he jumped over the 
 fence, — No, Connie, not the mule, of course ! Mr. 
 Harmer! He jumped over the fence, and put his 
 coat on the ground, and made a pillow for me with 
 the shirts and towels in his bag, and carried me 
 over. Then he wanted to go for a wagon to bring 
 me home, but I was too nervous and scared, so he 
 stayed with me. Then Mr. Davis came along with 
 his cart, and Jerry — er — Harmer, you know, helped 
 put me in, and the cart was so small they both had 
 to walk." 
 
 "Where is he now?" "Is he young?" "Is he 
 handsome?" "Did he look rich?" 
 
ROMANCE COMES 265 
 
 "Don't be silly, girls. He went to the hotel, I 
 suppose. Anyhow, he left us as soon as we reached 
 town. He said he was in a hurry, and had some- 
 thing to look after. His coat was underneath me 
 in the wagon, and he wouldn't take it out for fear 
 of hurting my ankle, so the poor soul is probably 
 wandering around this town in his shirt-sleeves." 
 
 Already, in the eyes of the girls, this Jerry — er — 
 Harmer, had taken unto himself all the interest of 
 the affair. 
 
 "He'll have to come for his coat," said Lark. 
 "We're bound to see him." 
 
 "Where does he live ? What was he doing in the 
 hickory grove ?" inquired Mr. Starr with a strangely 
 sinking heart, for her eyes were alight with new 
 and wonderful radiance. 
 
 "He lives in Des Moines. He was just walking 
 into town, and took a short cut through the grove." 
 
 "Walking! From Des Moines?" 
 
 Prudence flushed uncomfortably. "I didn't think 
 of that," she said. "But I do not see why he should 
 not walk if he likes. He's strong and athletic, and 
 fond of exercise. I guess he's plenty able to walk 
 if he wants to. I'm sure he's no tramp, father, if 
 that is what you are thinking." 
 
266 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "I am not thinking anything of the kind. Pru- 
 dence," he said with dignity. "But I do think it 
 rather strange that a young man should set out to 
 walk from Des Moines to Mount Mark. And why 
 should he be at it so early in the morning? Doesn't 
 he require sleep, as the rest of us do?" 
 
 "How should I know? I guess if he likes to be 
 out in the morning when it is fresh and sweet, it 
 is all right. I like the morning myself. He had 
 as much right out early as I had. His clothes were 
 nice, and he is a Harvard graduate, and his shoes 
 were dusty, but not soiled or worn. Anyhow, he 
 is coming at four o'clock. H you want to ask if 
 he is a tramp, you can do it." And Prudence burst 
 into tears. 
 
 Dramatic silence in the cheerful sitting-room! 
 Then Fairy began bustling about to bathe the face 
 and throat of "poor little Prudence," and her father 
 said sympathetically: 
 
 "You're all nervous and wrought up, with the 
 pain and excitement. Prudence. I'm glad he is 
 coming so we can thank him for his kindness. It 
 was mighty lucky he happened along, wasn't it ? A 
 Harvard graduate! Yes, they are pretty strong on 
 athletics at Harvard. You'd better straighten this 
 
ROMANCE COMES , 267 
 
 room a little and have things looking nice when he 
 gets here," said Father Starr, with great diplomacy. 
 And he was rewarded, and startled, by observing 
 that Prudence brightened wonderfully at his words. 
 
 "Yes, do," she urged eagerly. "Get some of the 
 roses from the corner bush, and put them on the 
 table there. And when you go up-stairs, Fairy, 
 you'd better bring down that little lace spread in 
 the bottom drawer of our dresser. It'll look very 
 nice on this bed. — Work hard, girls, and get every- 
 thing looking fine. He'll be here at four, he said. 
 You twins may wear your white dresses, and Con- 
 nie must put on her blue and wear her blue bows. 
 — Fairy, do you think it would be all right for you 
 to wear your silk dress? Of course, the silk is 
 rather grand for home, but you do look so beau- 
 tiful in it. Father, will you put on your black suit, 
 or are you too busy ? And don't forget to wear the 
 pearl cufif buttons Aunt Grace sent you." 
 
 He went up-stairs to obey, with despair in his 
 heart. But to the girls, there was nothing strange 
 in this exactness on the part of Prudence. Jerrold 
 Harmer was the hero of the romance, and they must 
 unite to do him honor. He was probably a prince 
 in disguise. Jerrold Harmer was a perfectly thrill- 
 
268 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 ing name. It was really a shame that America 
 allows no titles, — Lord Jerrold did sound so noble, 
 and Lady Prudence was very effective, too. He 
 and Prudence were married, and had a family of 
 four children, named for the various Starrs, before 
 one hour had passed. 
 
 "I'll begin my book right away," Lark was say- 
 ing. She and Carol were in the dining-room madly 
 polishing their Sunday shoes, — what time they were 
 not performing the marriage ceremony of their sis- 
 ter and The Hero. 
 
 "Yes, do ! But for goodness' sake, don't run her 
 into a mule! Seems to me even Prudence could 
 have done better than that." 
 
 "I'll have his automobile break down in the 
 middle of the road, and Prudence can run into it. 
 The carbureter came off, and of course the car 
 wouldn't run an inch without it." 
 
 "Yes, that's good," said Carol approvingly. "It 
 must be a sixty fcylinder, eight horsepower — er — 
 Ford, or something real big and costly." 
 
 "Twins! You won't be ready," warned Pru- 
 dence, and this dire possibility sent them flying up- 
 stairs in a panic. 
 
 While the girls, bubbling over with excitement. 
 
ROMANCE COMES 269 
 
 were dressing for the great event, Mr. Starr went 
 down-stairs to sit with Prudence. Carol called to 
 him on his way down, and he paused on the stair- 
 case, looking up at her. 
 
 "Lark and I are going to use some of Fairy's 
 powder, father," she said. "We feel that we simply 
 must on an occasion like this. And for goodness' 
 sake, don't mention it before Him! It doesn't hap- 
 pen very often, you know, but to-day we simply 
 must. Now, don't you say an)rthing about falling 
 in the flour barrel, or turning pale all of a sudden, 
 whatever else you do. We'd be so mortified, 
 father." 
 
 Mr. Starr was concerned with weightier matters, 
 and went on down to Prudence with never so much 
 as a reproving shake of the head for the worldly- 
 minded young twins. 
 
 "Father," began Prudence, her eyes on the lace 
 coverlet, "do you think it would be all right for 
 me to wear that silk dressing-gown of mother's? 
 I need something over my nightgown, and my old 
 flannel kimono is so ugly. You know, mother said 
 I was to have it, and — I'm twenty now. Do you 
 think it would be all right? But if you do not want 
 me to wear it " 
 
270 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "I do want you to," was the prompt reply. "Yes, 
 it is quite time you were wearing it. I'll get it out 
 of the trunk myself, and send Fairy down to help 
 you." Then as he turned toward the door, he asked 
 carelessly, "Is he very good-looking, Prudence?" 
 
 And Prudence, with a crimson face, answered 
 quickly, "Oh, I really didn't notice, father." 
 
 He went on up-stairs then, and presently Fairy 
 came down with the dainty silk gown trimmed with 
 fine soft lace. "I brought my lavender ribbon for 
 your hair. Prudence. It will match the gown so 
 nicely. Oh, you do look sweet, dearest. I pity 
 Jerrold Harmer, I can tell you that. Now; I must 
 hurry and finish my own dressing." 
 
 But with her foot on the bottom stair, she paused. 
 Her sister was calling after her. "Send father 
 down here, quick. Fairy." 
 
 Father ran down quickly, and Prudence, catching 
 hold of his hands, whispered wretchedly, "Oh, 
 father, he — he is good-looking. I — I did notice it. 
 I didn't really mean to lie to you." 
 
 "There, now. Prudence," he said, kissing her 
 tenderly, "you mustn't get excited again. I'm 
 afraid you are too nervous to have callers. You 
 must lie very quietly until he comes. That was no 
 
ROMANCE COMES 271 
 
 lie, child. You are so upset you do not know what 
 you are saying to-day. Be quiet now, Prudence, — 
 it's nearly time for him to come." 
 
 "You are a dear good father," she cried, kissing 
 his hands passionately, "but it was a lie. I did 
 know what I was saying. I did it on purpose." 
 
 And Mr. Starr's heart was heavy, for he knew 
 that his fears were realized. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER " 
 
 AT twenty minutes to four, the parsonage 
 family clustered excitedly in the sitting-room, 
 which the sunshine flooded [cheerily. They were 
 waiting for the hero of Prudence's romance. 
 
 "Oh, Larkie, will you run up-stairs and bring my 
 lace handkerchief? It's on our dresser, in the 
 burnt-wood box." And after Lark had departed, 
 she went on, "The flowers are not quite in the cen- 
 ter of the table. Fairy, — a little to the right. — If 
 you would move the curtains the least little bit, 
 those torn places would not show." Then she 
 sighed. "How nice you all look. Oh, Connie, 
 won't you turn the clock a little this way, so I can 
 see it? That's better, thank you, precious. Thank 
 you. Lark, — isn't it a pretty handkerchief? I've 
 only carried it three times, and I have never really 
 used it. Would you keep these pearls on. Fairy, 
 or would you take them oflf?" 
 
 "I would keep them on, Prue, — they catch the 
 272 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 273 
 
 color of the gown a little, and are just beautiful. 
 You do look so sweet, but your face is very flushed. 
 I am afraid you are feverish. Maybe we had better 
 not let him see Prue to-day, father. Perhaps he 
 can come back to-morrow." 
 
 "Fairy !" exclaimed Prudence. "Besides, he must 
 come in to get his coat. We can't expect him to 
 go coatless over Sunday. Listen, — Glisten, girls! 
 Look, Fairy, and see if that is he! Yes, it is, I 
 know, — I can tell by his walk." Warm rich color 
 dyed her face and throat, and she clasped her hands 
 over her heart, wondering if Connie beside her could 
 hear its tumult. 
 
 "I'll go to the door," said Father Stai;r, and Pru- 
 dence looked at him beseechingly. 
 
 "I — I am sure he is all right, father. I — you will 
 be nice to him, won't you?" 
 
 Without answering, Mr. Starr left the room. He 
 could not trust his voice. 
 
 "Listen, girls, I want to hear," whispered Pru- 
 dence. And she smiled as she heard her father's 
 cordial voice. 
 
 "You are Mr. Harmer, aren't you? I am Pru- 
 dence's father. Come right in. The whole family 
 is assembled to do you honor. The girls have al- 
 
274 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 ready made you a prince in disguise. Come back 
 this way. Prudence is resting very nicely." 
 
 When the two men stepped into the sitting-room, 
 Prudence, for once, quite overlooked her father. 
 She lifted her eyes to Jerrold Harmer's face, and 
 waited, breathless. Nor was he long in finding her 
 among the bevy of girls. He walked at once to the 
 bed, and took her hand. 
 
 "My little comrade of the road," he said gaily, 
 but with tenderness, "I am afraid you are not feel- 
 ing well enough for callers to-day." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I am," protested Prudence with strange 
 shyness. 
 
 He turned to the other girls, and greeted them 
 easily. He was entirely self-possessed. "Miss 
 Starr told me so much about you that I know you 
 all to begin with." He smiled at Fairy as he added, 
 "In fact, she predicted that I am to fall in love 
 with you. And so, very likely, I should, — if I 
 hadn't met your sister first." 
 
 They all laughed at that, and then he walked back 
 and stood by Prudence once more. "Was it a bad 
 sprain? Does it pain you very badly? You look 
 tired. I am afraid it was an imposition for me to 
 come this afternoon." 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 275 
 
 "Oh, don't worry about that," put in Connie anx- 
 iously. "She wanted you to come. She's been get- 
 ting us ready for you ever since the doctor left. I 
 think it was kind of silly for me to wear my blue 
 just for one caller." 
 
 The twins glared at her, realizing that she was 
 discrediting the parsonage, but Jerrold Harmer 
 laughed, and Prudence joined him. 
 
 "It is quite true," she admitted frankly. "The 
 mule and I disgraced the parsonage this morning, 
 and I wanted the rest of you to redeem it this after- 
 noon." She looked at him inquiringly. "Then you 
 had another coat?" 
 
 "No, I didn't. I saw this one in a window this 
 morning, and couldn't resist it. Was the ride very 
 hard on your ankle ?" 
 
 Mr. Starr was puzzled. Evidently it was not lack 
 of funds which brought this man on foot from Des 
 Moines to Mount Mark, — ^half-way across the 
 state ! He did not look like a man fleeing from jus- 
 tice. What, then, was the explanation? 
 
 "You must have found it rather a long walk," 
 he began tentatively, his eyes on the young man's 
 face. 
 
 "|Yes, I think my feet are a little blistered. I 
 
276 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 have walked farther than that many times, but I am 
 out of practise now. Sometimes, however, walking 
 is a painful necessity." 
 
 "How long did it take you coming from Des 
 Moines to Mount Mark?" inquired Carol in a sub- 
 dued and respectful voice, — ^and curious, withal. 
 
 "I did not come directly to Mount Mark. I 
 stopped several places on business. I hardly know 
 how long it would take coming straight througlk 
 It would depend on one's luck, I suppose." 
 
 "Well," said Lark, "taking it a little at a time 
 it might be done, but for myself, I should never 
 dream of undertaking so much exercise." 
 
 "Could you walk from here to Burlington at one 
 stretch?" asked Connie. 
 
 He looked rather surprised. "Why, perhaps I 
 could if I was in shape, but — seven miles was all I 
 cared about this morning." 
 
 "Well, I think it was mighty brave of you to walk 
 that far, — I don't care why you did it," announced 
 Connie with emphasis. 
 
 "Brave!" he repeated. "I have walked three 
 times seven miles, often, when I was in school." 
 
 "Oh, I mean the whole thing— rclear from Des 
 Moines," explained Connie. 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 277 
 
 "From Des Moines," he gasped. "Good heavens ! 
 I did not walk from Des Moines ! Did you — " He 
 turned to Prudence questioningly. "Did you think 
 I walked clear from Des Moines ?" 
 
 "Yes." And added hastily, "But I did not care 
 if you did. It did not make any difference how 
 you came." 
 
 For a moment he was puzzled. Then he burst 
 out laughing. "I am afraid we had too much to 
 talk about this morning. I thought I had explained 
 my situation, but evidently I did not. I drove from 
 Des Moines in the car, and " 
 
 "The automobile !" gasped Carol, with a triumph- 
 ant look at Lark. 
 
 "Yes, just so. I stopped several places on busi- 
 ness as I came through. I drove from Burlington 
 this morning, but I got off the road. The car broke 
 down on me, and I couldn't fix it, — ^broke an axle. 
 So I had to walk in. That is what I was seeing 
 about to-day, — sending a man out for the car and 
 arranging about the repairs." He smiled again. 
 "What in the world did you think I would walk 
 from Des Moines for?" he asked Prudence, more 
 inquisitive than grammatical. 
 
 "I did not think anything about it until they 
 
278 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 asked, and — I did not know about the car. You 
 did not mention it." 
 
 "No. I remember now. We were talking of 
 other things all the time." He turned frankly to 
 Mr. Starr. "Perhaps you have heard of the Har- 
 mer Automobile Company, of Des Moines. My 
 father was Harvey Harmer. Two years ago, when 
 I ^as running around in Europe, he died. It was 
 his desire that I should personally take charge of 
 the business. So I hurried home, and have had 
 charge of the company since then. We are estab- 
 lishing sales agencies here, and in Burlington, and 
 several other towns. I came out for a little trip, 
 and took advantage of the opportunity to discuss 
 the business with our new men. That's what 
 brought me to Mount Mark." To Connie he added 
 laughingly, "So I must sacrifice myself, and do 
 without your praise. I did not walk until the tar 
 broke down and compelled me to do so." 
 
 For the first time in her life, Prudence distinctly 
 triumphed over her father. She flashed him the 
 glance of a conqueror, and he nodded, understand- 
 ingly. He liked Jerrold Harmer, — ^as much as he 
 could like any man who stepped seriously into the 
 life of Prudence. He was glad that things were 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 279 
 
 well. But — they would excuse him, he must look 
 after his Sunday's sermons. 
 
 A little later the twins and Connie grew restless, 
 and finally Connie blurted out, "Say, Prue, don't 
 you think we've upheld the parsonage long enough ? 
 I want to get some fresh air." The twins would 
 never have been guilty of such social indiscretion 
 as this, but they gladly availed themselves of Con- 
 nie's "break," and followed her out-of-doors. Then 
 Fairy got up, laughing. "I have done my share, 
 too. I think we'll leave the parsonage in your hands 
 now, Prue. I want to write to Aunt Grace. I'll 
 be just at the head of the stairs, and if Prudence 
 wants me, you will call, won't you, Mr. Harmer? 
 And won't you stay for dinner with us ? I'm sure 
 to disgrace the parsonage again, for I am no cook, 
 but you can get along for once, surely. We spend 
 more time laughing when the food is bad, and 
 laughter is very healthful. You will stay, won't 
 you?" 
 
 Jerrold Harmer looked very eager, and yet he 
 looked somewhat doubtfully at Prudence. Her 
 eyes were eloquent with entreaties. Finally he 
 laughed, and said, "I should certainly like to stay, 
 but you see I want to come back to-morrow. Now, 
 
280 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 will I dare to come back to-morrow if I stay for 
 dinner to-night? Wouldn't Connie say that was 
 disgracing the parsonage?" 
 
 Fairy laughed delightedly. "That is very good," 
 she said. "Then you will stay. I'll try to fix it 
 up with Connie to save the reputation of the house. 
 Now, do not talk too much, Prue, and— ^what shall 
 we have for dinner ? We only say dinner when we 
 have company, Mr. Harmer. What we have is 
 supper." 
 
 Prudence contracted her brows in the earnest 
 endeavor to compose a menu suitable for this occa- 
 sion. "Mashed potatoes, and — use cream,' Fairy. 
 You'd better let Lark do the mashing, for you al- 
 ways leave lumps. And breaded veal cutlet," with 
 a significant glance, "and creamed peas, and 
 radishes, and fruit. Will that be enough for you, 
 Mr. Harmer?" 
 
 "Oceans," he said contentedly. 
 
 "Well, I'll collect the twins and Connie and we 
 will try to think up a few additions. Where's the 
 money?" 
 
 "In the dungeon, and the key is on the nail above 
 the door. And the silverware is there, too," with 
 another significant glance. 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 281 
 
 After tKat, Prudence lay back happily on the pil- 
 lows and smoothed the lace on her mother's silk 
 dressing gown. 
 
 "Talk to me," she said, "tell me about where you 
 live, and what you do, — your work, you know, and 
 how you amuse yourself. I want you to amuse 
 me now, Mr. Harmer." 
 
 "You called me Jerry this morning." 
 
 "Yes, I know. Do you want me to call you Jerry 
 still?" 
 
 "Yes, Prudence, I do. Do you mind if I move 
 my chair a little closer?" 
 
 "No, put it right here. Now, I am ready." 
 
 "But there's nothing interesting about me. Let's 
 talk of " 
 
 "It's interesting to me. Tell me about your busi- 
 ness." 
 
 "You don't care anything about business, I am 
 sure." 
 
 "I care about your business." 
 
 "Do you. Prudence? — You look so sweet this 
 afternoon. I nearly blurted it out before the whole 
 family. Wouldn't the twins have laughed? It 
 would have disgraced the parsonage. I think Mr. 
 Starr is awfully lucky to have five girls, and all of 
 
282 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 them pretty. But isn't it strange that the prettiest 
 and dearest one of them all should be the oldest 
 daughter?" 
 
 "Oh, but I'm not really—" Prudence began ear- 
 nestly. Then she stopped, and added honestly, 
 "But I am glad you think so." 
 
 No, they did not quote poetry, they did not dis- 
 cuss the psychological intricacies of spontaneous at- 
 traction, they did not say anything deep, or wise, or 
 learned. But they smiled at each other, with pleased 
 investigating eyes. He put his hand on the cover- 
 let, just near enough to touch the lace on the sleeve 
 of her silk dressing gown. And together they 
 found Paradise in the shabby sitting-room of the 
 old Methodist parsonage that afternoon. 
 
 "Must you prepare meat for breading half an 
 hour before cooking, or when?" demanded Fairy, 
 from the dining-room door. 
 
 "What? — Oh! — Fifteen minutes before. Don't 
 forget to salt and pepper the crumbs. Fairy." 
 
 "Perhaps some time your father will let you and 
 a couple of the others come to Des Moines with me 
 in the car. You would enjoy a few days there, I 
 know. I live with my aunt, a dear, motherly little 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 283 
 
 old soul. She will adore you, Prudence, and you 
 will like her, too. Would your father let you spend 
 a week? We can easily drive drive back and forth 
 in the car." 
 
 "Maybe he will, — ^but who will keep the parson- 
 age while I am away?" 
 
 "Fairy, to be sure. She must be a good fairy 
 once in a while. We can take the twins with us, 
 Connie, too, if you like, and then Fairy will only 
 have to mother your father. Do you like riding in 
 a car?" 
 
 "Oh, I love it. But I have not ridden very much. 
 Willard Morley took me quite often when he was 
 here, but he is in Chicago now." 
 
 "When's he coming back?" suspiciously. 
 
 "Prudence, shall we have tea or coffee?" This 
 was Lark from the doorway. "Fairy wants to 
 know." 
 
 "What?— Oh!— Which do you want, Jerry?" 
 
 "Which does your father prefer?" 
 
 "He doesn't drink either except for breakfast." 
 
 "I generally drink coffee, but I do not care much 
 for it, so do not bother " 
 
 "Coffee, Lark." 
 
284 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "When's that Morley chap coming back?" 
 
 "I do not know." And then, "He is never com- 
 ing back as far as I am concerned." 
 
 Jerrold relented promptly. "You are why he 
 went away, I suppose." 
 
 "At any rate, he is gone." 
 
 "Did you ever have a lover, Prudence? A real 
 lover, I mean." 
 
 "No, I never did." 
 
 "I'm awfully glad of that. I'll " 
 
 "Prudence, do you use half milk and half water 
 for creamed tomato soup, or all milk?" 
 
 "What?— Oh!— All milk, Connie, and tell Fairy 
 not to salt it until it is entirely done, or it may 
 curdle." 
 
 "What in the world would they ever do without 
 you. Prudence? You are the soul of the parsonage, 
 aren't you?" 
 
 "No, I am just the cook and the chambermaid," 
 she answered, laughing. "But don't you see 
 how hard it will be for me to go away?" 
 
 "But it isn't fair ! Vacation is coming now, and 
 Fairy ought to take a turn. What will they do 
 when you get married?" 
 
 "I have always said I would not get married." 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 285 
 
 "But don't you want to get married, — some 
 time?" 
 
 "Oh, that isn't it. I just can't because I must 
 take care of the parsonage, and raise the girls. I 
 can't." 
 
 "But you will," he whispered, and his hand 
 touched hers for just a second. Prudence did not 
 answer. She lifted her eyes to his face, and caught 
 in her breath once more. 
 
 A little later he said, "Do you mind if I go up- 
 stairs and talk to your father a few minutes? 
 Maybe I'd better." 
 
 "But do not stay very long," she urged, and she 
 wondered why the brightness and sunshine vanished 
 from the room when he went out. "First door to 
 the right," she called after him. 
 
 Mr. Starr arose to greet him, and welcomed him 
 to his combination study and bedroom with great 
 friendliness. But Jerrold went straight to the point. 
 
 "Mr. Starr, it's very kind of you to receive a 
 perfect stranger as you have me. But I understand 
 that with a girl like Prudence, you will want to be 
 careful. I can give you the names of several prom- 
 inent men in Des Moines, Christians, who know me 
 well, and can tell you all about me." 
 
286 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "It isn't necessary. We are parsonage people, 
 and we are accustomed to receiving men and women 
 as worthy of our trust, until we find them different. 
 We are glad to count you among our friends." 
 
 "Thank you, but — you see, Mr. Starr, this is a 
 little different. Some day. Prudence and I will 
 want to be married, and you will wish to be sure 
 about me." 
 
 "Does Prudence know about that?" 
 
 "No," with a smile, "we haven't got that far yet. 
 But I am sure she feels it. She hasn't — well, you 
 know what I mean. She has been asleep, but I be- 
 lieve she is waking up now." 
 
 "Yes, I think so. Do you mind if I ask you a 
 few questions?" 
 
 "No, indeed. Anything you like." 
 
 "Well, first, are you a Christian?" 
 
 "Not the kind you are, Mr. Starr. My parents 
 were Christians, but I've never thought much about 
 it myself because I was young and full of fun. I 
 have never been especially directed to religion. I 
 go to church, and I believe the Bible, — though I 
 don't know much about it. I seldom read it. But 
 I'll get busy now, if you like, and really study it 
 and — try to come around your way. I know Pru- 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 287 
 
 dence would make me do that." And he smiled 
 again. 
 
 "Do you drink?" 
 
 "I did a little, but I promised Prudence this morn- 
 ing I would quit it. I never got — drunk, and I have 
 not formed the habit. But sometimes with the 
 boys, I drink a little. But I do not care for it, and 1 
 swore ofif this morning. — I smoke, too, — not ciga- 
 rettes, of course. Prudence knows it, but she did 
 not make me promise to quit that ?" His voice was 
 raised, inquiringly. 
 
 "Would you have promised, if she had asked 
 it?" This was sheer curiosity. 
 
 "I suppose I would." He flushed a little. "I 
 know I was pretty hard hit, and it was such a new 
 experience that I would have promised anything 
 she asked. But I like smoking, and — I don't think 
 it is wicked." 
 
 "Never mind the smoking. I only asked that 
 question out of curiosity. We're not as strait-laced 
 as we might be perhaps. The only things I would 
 really object to, are those things that might serious- 
 ly menace your happiness, yours and hers, if the 
 time does come. But the next question, — can you 
 pass a strict physical examination?" 
 
288 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Yes, I ean. I'll go with you to your physician 
 to-night if you like. I'm all right physically, I 
 know." 
 
 "Tell me about your relations with your mother 
 when she was living." 
 
 "She has been dead four years." Jerrold spoke 
 with some emotion. "We were great chums, though 
 her health was always poor. I wrote her three 
 times a week when I was away from home, and 
 she wrote me a note every day. When I was in 
 school, I spent all my vacations at home to be with 
 her. And I never went abroad until after her death 
 because she did not like the idea of my going so far 
 from her." 
 
 "Jerrold, my boy, I do not want to seem too se- 
 vere, but — tell me, has there been anything in your 
 life, about women, that could come out and hurt 
 Prudence later on?" 
 
 Jerrold hesitated. "Mr. Starr, I have been young, 
 and headstrong, and impulsive. I have done some 
 things I wish now I hadn't. But I believe there is 
 nothing that I could not explain to Prudence so 
 she would understand. If I had thought before- 
 hand of a girl like her, there are things I would 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 289 
 
 not have done. But there is nothing, I think, that 
 would really hurt, after I had a chance to talk it 
 over with her." 
 
 "All right. If you are the man, God bless you. 
 I don't suppose you are worthy of Prudence, for 
 she is a good, pure-hearted, unselfish girl, — ^there 
 could be none better. But the real point is just 
 whether you will love each other enough! — I like 
 your coming up here like this. I think that was 
 very decent and manly of you. And, do you mind 
 if I just suggest that you go a little slow with Pru- 
 dence? Remember that she has been sound asleep, 
 until this morning. I do not want her awakened 
 too rudely." 
 
 "Neither do I," said Jerrold quickly. "Shall I 
 go down now? The girls have invited me to stay 
 for supper, and Prudence says I am to come back 
 to-morrow, too. Is that all right? Remember, I'll 
 be going home on Monday!" 
 
 "It is all right, certainly. Spend as much time 
 here as you like. You will either get worse, or get 
 cured, and — whichever it is, you've got to have a 
 chance. I like you, Jerrold. Prudence judges by 
 instinct, but it does not often fail her." 
 
290 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Prudence heard him running down the stairs boy- 
 ishly, and when he came in, before she could speak, 
 he whispered, "Shut your eyes tight. Prudence. 
 And do not scold me, for I can't help it." Then 
 he put his hands over hers, and kissed her on the 
 lips. They were both breathless after that. Pru- 
 dence lifted her lashes slowly, and gazed at him 
 seriously. It was she who spoke first. 
 
 "I was never really kissed before," she whis- 
 pered, "not really;" 
 
 Then they sat in silence until Fairy announced 
 that supper was ready. "But I won't promise it is 
 eatable," she assured them, laughing. 
 
 "I wish I could go to the table, too," said Pru- 
 dence, looking at her father wistfully. "I could 
 lie on the old lounge out there." 
 
 "And have your supper on a tray, of course. 
 Can you carry her, father?" 
 
 "I can!" volunteered Jerrold promptly. "I have 
 done it." 
 
 "I think between us we can manage. We'll try 
 it." And Prudence heroically endured the pain of 
 being moved, for the sake of seeing Jerrold at the 
 table with her parsonage family. For to her sur- 
 
ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER 291 
 
 prise, she realized that she could not bear that even 
 a few minutes should pass, when she could not see 
 the manly young face with the boyish mouth and 
 the tender eyes ! 
 
 Prudence, at last, was aroused from her slumber. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 
 
 4 < "j n RUDENCE, are you going to Aunt Grace's 
 
 ^ early in the summer, or late?" demanded 
 Fairy. 
 
 "Oh, let's not talk of that now. There's plenty 
 of time." 
 
 "No, there isn't. School will be out in a week, 
 and Babbie wants to give a house party and have 
 our little bunch at his home for a few days 
 this summer. He wants to set the date, and I can't 
 tell him when because I do not know when you are 
 going to auntie's." 
 
 They sat around the breakfast table. Prudence 
 and Fairy and their father, talking of the summer. 
 The twins and Connie had long since excused them- 
 selves, and even now could be heard shouting gaily 
 in the field beyond the old red barn. 
 
 Prudence looked restlessly from one to the other, 
 when her sister insisted upon an answer. 
 292 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 293 
 
 "Why," she began, "I've about decided not to go 
 to Aunt Grace's this summer." 
 
 Fairy rapped on the table with the spoon she held 
 in her hand. "Don't be silly! You have to go. 
 You've never had a vacation in your life, and father 
 promised Aunt Grace on his reputation as a minis- 
 ter, didn't you, papa?" 
 
 "Yes, I promised all right." 
 
 "But, papa I I do not have to go, do I ? A whole 
 month, — oh, honestly, I do not want to." 
 
 "Why don't you ? Last fall you were wild about 
 it. Don't you remember dreaming " 
 
 "Oh, but that was last fall," said Prudence, smil- 
 ing softly, and unconsciously she lifted one hand 
 to where a bulky letter nestled inside her dress. "I 
 didn't know I was going to sprain my ankle, and 
 be so useless. It may be two weeks yet before I 
 can walk on it" 
 
 "What has that got to do with it?" 
 
 "Do you really prefer to stay at home. Pru- 
 dence?" queried her father. "The whole summer?" 
 
 Prudence blushed most gloriously. "Oh, well," 
 she began slowly. Then she took the plunge reck- 
 lessly. "Why, you see, father, Jerry lives with his 
 aunt in Des Moines, — he told you that, didn't he? 
 
294 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 And they have quite a big house, and — ^he wants 
 to take me and the twinnies to Des Moines in the 
 car for a week or ten days. And Fairy will take 
 care of you and Connie. And — if I can do that — 
 I do not want any more vacation. I couldn't bear 
 to stay at auntie's a whole month, away from you 
 and the parsonage." She felt very guilty, for she 
 did not add, as she was thinking, "Besides, Jerry is 
 coming every two weeks, and if I were away, we 
 would miss a visit !" 
 
 Fairy laughed in an irritating, suggestive way, 
 but Mr. Starr only nodded. 
 
 "I am sure you will not mind that, will you 
 father? His aunt must be a perfectly good and 
 nice woman, and — such a long drive in the auto, 
 and — to see all over Des Moines." But Prudence 
 paused guiltily, for she did not add, "With Jerry !" 
 although the words were singing in her heart. 
 
 "That will be very nice indeed, and of tourse I 
 do not object. It will be a forty years' delight and 
 wonder to the twins! Yes, I will be glad to have 
 you go. But you can still have your month at 
 Grace's if you wish." 
 
 "But I do not wish," protested Prudence prompt- 
 ly. "Honestly, father, I'll write her the sweetest 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 295 
 
 kind of a letter, but — oh, please do not make me 
 go! 
 
 "Of course, we won't make you go, you goose," 
 said Fairy, "but I think you are very foolish." 
 
 "And you can go, Fairy," cried Prudence hos- 
 pitably. "Aunt Grace loves you so, and you've 
 worked so hard all year, and,— oh, yes, it will be 
 just the thing for you." Prudence wished she 
 might add, "And that will let me out," but she 
 hardly dare say it. 
 
 "Well, when does your Des Moines tour come 
 off? I must know, so I can tell Babbie about the 
 house party." 
 
 "Let Babbie choose his own date. Jerry says we 
 shall go whenever I say — I mean whenever you say, 
 father, — and we can decide later on. Give Babbie 
 first choice, by all means." 
 
 That was the beginning of Prudence's golden 
 summer. She was not given to self-analysis. She 
 did what seemed good to her always, — she did not 
 delve down below the surface for reasons why and 
 wherefore. She hadn't the time. She took things 
 as they came. She could not bear the thought of 
 sharing with the parsonage family even the least 
 ardent and most prosaic of Jerrold's letters. 
 
296 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 But she never asked herself the reason. It seemed 
 a positive sacrilege to leave his warm, life-pulsing 
 letters up-stairs in a bureau drawer. It was only 
 natural and right to carry them in her dress, and 
 to sleep with them under her pillow. But Prudence 
 did not wonder why. The days when Jerry came 
 were tremulously happy ones for her, — she was all 
 aquiver when she heard him swinging briskly up 
 the ramshackle parsonage walk, and her breath was 
 suffocatingly hot. But she took it as a matter of 
 course. The nights when Jerry slept in the little 
 spare bedroom at the head of the stairs, Prudence 
 lay awake, staring joyously into the darkness, hop- 
 ing Jerry was sound asleep and comfortable. But 
 she never asked herself why she could not sleep! 
 She knew that Jerry's voice was the sweet- 
 est voice in the world. She knew that his 
 eyes were the softest and brightest and the 
 most tender. She knew that his hands had 
 a thrilling touch quite different from the touch of 
 ordinary, less dear hands. She knew that his smile 
 lifted her into a delirium of delight, and that even 
 the thought of sorrow coming to him brought sting- 
 ing tears to her eyes. But why? Ah, Prudence 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 297 
 
 never thought of that. She just lived in the sweet 
 ecstatic dream of the summer, and viras well and 
 richly content. 
 
 So the vacation passed, and Indian summer came. 
 And the girls went back to their studies once more, 
 reluctantly, yet unaccountably glad even in their 
 reluctance. It is always that way with students, — ■ 
 real students. They regret the passing of vacation 
 days, but the thought of "going back to school" 
 has its own tingling joys of anticipation. 
 
 It was Saturday evening. The early supper at 
 the parsonage was over, the twins had washed the 
 dishes, and still the daylight lingered. Prudence 
 and Jerry sat side by side, and closely, on the front 
 porch, talking in whispers. Fairy had gone for a 
 stroll with the still faithful Babbie. Connie and the 
 twins had evidently vanished. Ah — not quite that ! 
 Carol and Lark came swiftly around the corner of 
 the parsonage. 
 
 "Good evening," said Lark politely, and Pru- 
 dence sat up abruptly. The twins never wasted po- 
 liteness! They wanted something. 
 
 "Do you mind if we take Jerry around by the 
 woodshed for a few minutes, Prue ?" 
 
298 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "I'll come along," said Prudence, rising. 
 
 "Oh, no," protested Lark, "we do not want 
 you, — just Jerry, and only for a little while." 
 
 Prudence sniffed suspiciously. "What are you 
 going to do to him?" she demanded. 
 
 "We won't hurt him," grinned Carol impishly. 
 "We had intended to tie him to a stake and bum 
 him alive. But since you have interceded on his 
 behalf, we'll let him off with a simple scalping." , 
 
 "Maybe he's afraid to come," said Lark, "for 
 there are two of us, and we are mighty men of 
 valor." 
 
 "That's all right," Prudence answered defensive- 
 ly. "I'd sooner face a tribe of wild Indians any day 
 than you twins when you are mischief-bent." 
 
 "Oh, we just want to use him a few minutes," 
 said Carol impatiently. "Upon our honor, as Chris- 
 tian gentlemen, we promise not to hurt a hair of 
 his head." 
 
 "Oh, come along, and cut out the comedy," Jerry 
 broke in, laughing. "I'll be back in two minutes, 
 Prue. They probably want me to shoo a chicken 
 out of their way. Or maybe the cat has been chas- 
 ing them." 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 299 
 
 Once safely; around the corner, the twins changed 
 their tactics. 
 
 "We knew you weren't afraid," said Lark artis- 
 tically, "we were just teasing Prudence. We know 
 we couldn't hurt you." 
 
 "Of course," emphasized Carol. "We want to 
 ask a favor of you, that's all. It's something we 
 can't do ourselves, but we knew you tould do it, 
 all right." 
 
 Jerry perceived the drift of this argument. "I 
 see ! I'm paid in advance for my service. What's 
 the job?" 
 
 Then the twins led him to the woodshed. This 
 woodshed stood about twenty feet from the back 
 door of the parsonage, and was nine feet high in 
 front, the roof sloping down at the back. Close 
 beside the shed grew a tall and luxuriant maple. 
 The lower limbs had been chopped off, and the 
 trunk rose clear to a height of nearly twelve feet 
 before the massive limbs branched out. The twins 
 had discovered that by climbing gingerly on the 
 rotten roof of the woodshed, followed by almost 
 superhuman scrambling and scratching, they could 
 get up into the leafy secrecy of the grand old maple. 
 
300 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 More than this, up high in the tree they found a 
 delightful arrangement of branches that seemed 
 positively made for them. These branches must be 
 utilized, and it was in the act of utilizing them that 
 they called upon their sister's friend for help. 
 
 "Do you see this board ?" began Lark, exhibiting 
 with some pride a solid board about two feet in 
 length. 
 
 "My eyesight is quite unimpaired," answered 
 Jerry, for he knew his twins. 
 
 "Well, we found this over by the Avery barn. 
 They have a big scrap pile out there. We couldn't 
 find anything around there that would suit, so we 
 looked over there. It's just a pile of rubbish, and 
 we knew they wouldn't mind." 
 
 "Else you would not have taken it, eh? Any- 
 thing like apples, for instance, is quite under the 
 ban." 
 
 "Yes, indeed," smiled Lark. "We're too old to 
 steal apples." 
 
 "Of course," added Carol. "When we need our 
 neighbor's apples, we send Connie. And get nicely 
 punished for it, too, I promise you." 
 
 "Quite so! And this exquisite board?" 
 
 "Well, we've found a perfectly gorgeous place 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 301 
 
 up in the old tree where we can make a seat. It's 
 quite a ways out from the trunk, and when the wind 
 blows it swings splendidly. But it isn't very com- 
 fortable sitting on a thin limb, and so we want a 
 seat It's a fine place, I tell you. We thought you 
 could nail this securely on to the limbs, — ^there are 
 two right near each other, evidently put there on 
 purpose for us. See what dandy big nails we 
 have!" 
 
 "From the Avery's woodshed, I suppose," he sug- 
 gested, smiling again. 
 
 "Oh, they are quite rusty. We found them in a 
 sack in an old barrel. It was in the scrap heap. 
 We're very good friends with the Averys, very 
 good, indeed," she continued hastily. "They allow 
 us to rummage around at will — in the barn." 
 
 "And see this rope," cried Carol. "Isn't it a 
 dandy?" 
 
 "Ah ! The Avery barn must be inexhaustible in 
 its resources." 
 
 "How suspicious you are, Jerry," mourned Lark. 
 
 "I wish we were that way, instead of innocent 
 and bland and trustful. Maybe we would get rich, 
 too. This is the first time I ever really understood 
 how you came to be a success in business." 
 
302 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "But you are quite wrong this time," said Lark 
 seriously. "Old Mr. Avery gave me this rope." 
 
 "Yes, he did ! Lark told him she was looking for 
 a rope just exactly like this one, and then he gave 
 it to her. He caught the idea of philanthropy right 
 away. He's a very nice old gentleman, I tell you. 
 He's so trusting and unsuspicious. I'm very fond 
 of people like that." 
 
 "We thought when you had the board nicely 
 nailed on, you might rope it securely to the lirnbs 
 above. They are in very good position, and that 
 will make it absolutely safe. Do you suppose you 
 fcan do that, Jerry? Do you get seasick when you 
 climb high?" 
 
 "Oh, no, high altitudes never make me seasick. 
 I've a very good head for such purposes." 
 
 "Then suppose you get busy before it grows dark. 
 We're in a great hurry. And we do not want Con- 
 nie to catch us putting it up. It'll be such fun to 
 sit up there and swing when the wind blows, and 
 have poor Connie down beneath wondering how we 
 manage to stick on. She can't see the seat from the 
 ground. Won't it be a good joke on her?" 
 
 "Oh, very, — yes, indeed. — Well, let's begin. — 
 Now, observe! I will just loop this end of the rope 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 303 
 
 lightly about my — er — middle. The other end will 
 dangle on the ground to be drawn up at will. Ob- 
 serve also that I bestow the good but rusty nails 
 in this pocket, and the hammer here. Then with 
 the admirable board beneath my arm, I mount to 
 the heights of — Say, twins, didn't I see an old 
 buggy seat out in the barn to-day? Seems to 
 me " 
 
 "Oh, Jerry!" The twins fairly smothered him. 
 "Oh, you darling. You are the nicest old thing. — 
 Now we can understand why Prudence seems to 
 like you. We never once thought of the old buggy 
 seat! Oh, Jerry!" 
 
 Then they hastily brought the discarded seat 
 from the barn, and with the help of Jerry it was 
 shoved up on the woodshed. From there, he lifted 
 it to the lowest limb of the old maple, and a second 
 later he was up himself. Then it was lifted again, 
 and again he followed, — ^up, and up, and up, — ^the 
 loose end of the donated rope trailing loose on the 
 ground below. The twins promptly, — as promptly 
 as possible, that is, — followed him into the tree. 
 
 "Oh, yes, we'll come along. We're used to climb- 
 ing and we're very agile. And you will need us to 
 hold things steady while you hammer." 
 
304 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 And Jerry smiled as he heard the faithful twins, 
 with much grunting and an occasional groan, fol- 
 lowing in his wake. 
 
 It was a delightful location, as they had said. 
 So heavy was the leafy screen that only by lifting 
 a branch here or there, could they see through it. 
 The big seat fitted nicely on the two limbs, and 
 Jerry fastened it with the rusty nails. The twins 
 were jubilant, and loud in their praises of his skill 
 and courage. 
 
 "Oh, Jerry," exclaimed Carol, with deep satis- 
 faction, "it's such a blessing to discover something 
 really nice about you after all these months!" 
 
 "Now, we'll just " 
 
 "Hush!" hissed Lark. "Here comes Connie. 
 Hold your breath, Jerry, and don't budge." 
 
 "Isn't she in on this?" he whispered. He could 
 hear Connie making weird noises as she came 
 around the house from the front. She was 
 learning to whistle, and the effect was ghastly in 
 the extreme. Connie's mouth had not been de- 
 signed for whistling. 
 
 "Sh! She's the band of dark-browed gypsies 
 trying to steal my lovely wife." 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 305 
 
 "I'm the lovely wife," interrupted Carol com- 
 placently. 
 
 "But Connie does not know about it. She is 
 so religious she won't be any of the villain parts. 
 When we want her to be anything real low-down, 
 we have to do it on the sly. She would no more 
 consent to a band of dark-browed gypsies than she 
 would " 
 
 Connie came around the corner of the parsonage, 
 out the back walk beneath the ,maple. Then she 
 gave a gleeful scream. Right before her lay a beau- 
 tiful heavy rope. Connie had been yearning for a 
 good rope to make a swing. Here it lay, at her 
 very feet, plainly a gift of the gods. She did not 
 wait to see where the other end of the rope was. 
 She just grabbed what she saw before her, and 
 started violently back around the house with it yell- 
 ing, "Prudence! Look at my rope!" 
 
 Prudence rushed around the parsonage. The 
 twins shrieked wildly, as there was a terrific tug 
 and heave of the limb beside them, and then — a 
 crashing of branches and leaves. Jerry was gone! 
 
 It did look horrible, from above as well as be- 
 low. But Jerry, when he felt the first light twinge 
 
306 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 as Connie lifted the rope, foresaw what was com- 
 ing and was ready for it. As he went down, he 
 grabbed a firm hold on the branch on which he had 
 stood, then he dropped to the next, and held again. 
 On the lowest limb he really clung for fifteen sec- 
 onds, and took in his bearings. Connie had dropped 
 the rope when the twins screamed, so he had noth- 
 ing more to fear from her. He saw Prudence, 
 white, with wild eyes, both arms stretched out to- 
 wai-d him. 
 
 "O. K., Prue," he called, and then he dropped. 
 He landed on his feet, a little jolted, but none the 
 worse for his fall. 
 
 He ran at once to Prudence. "I'm all right," he 
 icried, really alarmed by the white horror in her 
 face. "Prudence! Prudence!" Then her arms 
 dropped, and with a brave but feeble smile, she 
 swayed a little. Jerry took her in his arms. 
 "Sweetheart!" he whispered. "Little sweetheart! 
 Do — do you love me so much, my dearest?" 
 
 Prudence raised her hands to his face, and looked 
 intensely into his eyes, all the sweet loving soul 
 of her shining in her own. And Jerry kissed her. 
 
 The twins scrambled down from the maple, 
 speechless and gold with terror, — and saw; Prudence 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 307 
 
 and Jerry ! Then they saw Connie, staring at them 
 with interest and amusement. 
 
 "I think we'd better go to bed, all three of us," 
 declared Lark sturdily. And they set off heroically 
 around the house. But at the corner Carol turned. 
 
 "Take my advice and go into the woodshed," she 
 said, "for all the Averys are looking out of their 
 windows." 
 
 Prudence did not hear, but he drew her swiftly 
 into the woodshed. Now a woodshed is a hideously 
 unromantic sort of place. And there was nothing 
 for Prudence to sit on, that Jerry might kneel at 
 her feet. So they dispensed with formalities, and 
 he held her in his arms for a long time, and kissed 
 her often, and whispered sweet meaningless words 
 that thrilled her as she listened. It may not have 
 been comfortable, but it was evidently endurable, 
 for it is a fact that they did not leave that wood- 
 shed for over an hour. Then they betook them- 
 selves to the darkest corner of the side porch, — 
 and history repeated itself once more! 
 
 At twelve, Jerry went up-stairs to bed, his lips 
 tingling with the fervent tenderness of her parting 
 kiss. At one o'clock, he stood at his window, look- 
 ing soberly out into the moonlit parsonage yard. 
 
308 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "She IS an angel, a pure, sweet, unselfish little 
 angel," he whispered, and his voice was broken, and 
 his eyes were wet, "and she is going to be my wife ! 
 Oh, God, teach me how to be good to her, and help 
 me make her as happy as she deserves." 
 
 At two o'clock he lay on his bed, staring into the 
 darkness, thinking again the soft shy words she had 
 whispered to him. And he flung his arms out to- 
 ward his closed door, wanting her. At three o'clqck 
 he dropped lightly asleep and dreamed of her. With 
 the first pale streaks of daylight stealing into his 
 room, he awoke. It was after four o'clock. A 
 little later, — just a few minutes later, — he heard a 
 light tap on his door. It came again, and he 
 bounded out of bed. 
 
 "Prudence! Is anything wrong?" 
 
 "Hush, Jerry, not so loud !" And what a strange 
 and weary voice. "Come down-stairs, will you ? I 
 want to tell you something. I'll wait at the foot of 
 the stairs. Be quiet, — do not wake father and the 
 girls. Will you be down soon?" 
 
 "In two minutes!" 
 
 And in two minutes he was down, agonizingly 
 anxious, knowing that something was wrong. Pru- 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 309 
 
 dence was waiting for him, and as he reached the 
 bottom step she clutched his hands desperately. 
 
 "Jerry," she whispered, "I — forgive me — I hon- 
 estly — Oh, I didn't think what I was saying 
 last night. You were so dear, and I was so happy, 
 and for a while I really believed we could belong 
 to each other. But I can't, you know. I've prom- 
 ised papa and the girls a dozen times that I would 
 never marry. Don't you see how it is? I must 
 take it back." 
 
 Jerry smiled a little, it must be admitted. This 
 was so like his (conscientious little Prudence! 
 
 "Dearest," he said gently, "you have said that 
 because you were not awake. You did not love. 
 But you are awake now. You love me. Your 
 father would never allow you to sacrifice yourself 
 like that. The girls would not hear of it. They 
 want you to be happy. And you can't be happy 
 without me, can you?" 
 
 Suddenly she crushed close to him. "Oh, Jerry," 
 she sobbed, "I will never be happy again, I know. 
 But — it is right for me to stay here, and be the 
 mother in the parsonage. It is wicked of me to 
 want you more than all of them. Don't you see it 
 
3 lo PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 is? They haven't any mother. They haven't any 
 one but me. Of course, they would not allow it, 
 but they will not know anything about it. I must 
 do it myself. And father especially must never 
 know. I want you to go away this morning before 
 breakfast, and — ^never come again." 
 
 She clung to him as she said this, but her voice 
 did not falter. "And you must not write to me 
 any more. For, oh, Jerry, if I see you again I can 
 never let you go, I know it. Will you do this for 
 me?" 
 
 "You've been up all night, haven't you, dearest?" 
 
 "Yes, — I remembered, and then I couldn't sleep." 
 
 "What have you been doing all night? It is 
 morning now." 
 
 "I walked up and down the floor, and pounded 
 my hands together," she admitted, with a mourn- 
 ful smile. 
 
 "You are nervous and excited," he said tenderly. 
 "Let's wait until after breakfast. Then we'll talk 
 it all over with your father, and it shall be as he 
 says. Won't that be better?" 
 
 "Oh, no. For father will say whatever he thinks 
 will make me happy. He must not know a thing 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 311 
 
 about it. Promise, Jerry, that you will never tell 
 him one word." 
 
 "I promise, of course, Prudence. I will let you 
 tell him." 
 
 But she shook her head. "He will never know. 
 Oh, Jerry! I can't bear to think of never seeing 
 you again, and never getting letters from you, 
 and — It seems to kill me inside, just the thought 
 of it." 
 
 "Sit down here in my lap. Put your head on my 
 shoulder, like that. Let me rub your face a little. 
 You're feverish. You are sick. Go to bed, won't 
 you, sweetheart? We can settle this later on." 
 
 "You must go right away, or I can not let you 
 goat all!" 
 
 "Do you mean you want me to get my things, 
 and go right now?" 
 
 "Yes." She buried her face in his shoulder. "If 
 — if you stay in your room until breakfast time, I 
 will lock you in, so you can not leave me again. I 
 know it. I am crazy to-day." 
 
 "Don't you think you owe me something, as well 
 as your father and sisters? Didn't God bring us 
 together, and make us love each other? Don't you 
 
312 PRUDENCE. OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 think He intended us for each other ? Do you wish 
 you had never met me ?" 
 
 "Jerry!" 
 
 "Then, sweetheart, be reasonable. Your father 
 loved your mother, and married her. That is God's 
 plan for all of us. You have been a wonderfully 
 brave and sweet daughter and sister, I know. But 
 surely Fairy is old enough to take your place 
 now. 
 
 "Fairy's going to be a professor, and — the girls 
 do not mind her very well. And she isn't as much 
 comfort to father as I am. — It's just because I 
 am most like mother, you see. But anyhow, I prom- 
 ised. I can't leave them." 
 
 "your father expects you to marry, and to marry 
 me. I told him about it myself, long ago. And he 
 was perfectly willing. He didn't say a word 
 against it." 
 
 "Of fcourse he wouldn't. That's just like father. 
 But still, I promised. And what would the girls 
 say if I should go back on them? They have trusted 
 me, always. If I fail them, will they ever 
 trust anybody else? If you love me, Jerry, please 
 go, and stay away." But her arm tightened about 
 his neck. "I'U wait here until you get your things. 
 
SHE ORDERS HER LIFE 313 
 
 and we can-— say good-by. And don't forget your 
 promise." 
 
 "Oh, very well, Prudence," he answered, half 
 irritably, "if you insist on ordering me away from 
 the house like this, I can only go. But " 
 
 "Let's not talk any more about it, Jerry. Please. 
 I'll wait until you come down." 
 
 When he came down a little later, with his suit- 
 case, his face was white and strained. 
 
 She put her arms around his neck. "Jerry," she 
 whispered, "I want to tell you that I love you so 
 much that — I could go away with you, and never 
 see any of them any more, or papa, or the parson- 
 age, and still feel rich, if I just had you! You — 
 everything in me seems to be all yours. I — ^love 
 you." 
 
 Her tremulous lips were pressed against his. 
 
 "Oh, sweetheart, this is folly, all folly. But I 
 can't make you see it. It is wrong, it is wickedly 
 yvTong, but " 
 
 "But I am all they have, Jerry, and — I prom- 
 ised." 
 
 "Whenever you want me. Prudence, just send. 
 I'll never change. I'll always be just the same. God 
 intended you for me, I know, and — I'll be waiting.'' 
 
314 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!" she whispered passion- 
 ately, sobbing, quivering in his arms. It was he 
 who drew away. 
 
 "Good-by, sweetheart," he said quietly, great pity 
 in his heart for the girl who in her desire to do right 
 was doing such horrible wrong. "Good-by, sweet- 
 heart. Remember, I will be waiting. Whenever 
 you send, I will come." 
 
 He stepped outside, and closed the door. Pru- 
 dence stood motionless, her hands clenched, until 
 she could no longer hear his footsteps. Then she 
 dropped on the floor, and lay there, face down- 
 ward, until she heard Fairy moving in her room 
 up-stairs. Then she went into the kitchen and 
 built the fire for breakfast. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 SHE COMES TO GRIEF 
 
 FAIRY was one of those buoyant, warm-blooded 
 girls to ■ whom sleep is indeed the great re- 
 storer. She slept soundly, sweetly, dreamlessly. 
 And every morning she ran down-stairs so full of 
 animation and life that she seemed all atingle to her 
 finger-tips. Now she stood in the kitchen door, tall, 
 cheeks glowing, eyes sparkling, and smiled at her 
 sister's solemn back. 
 
 "You are the little mousey, Prue," she said, in 
 her full rich voice. "I didn't hear you come to bed 
 last night, and I didn't hear you getting out this 
 morning. I am an abominably solid sleeper, am I 
 not ? Shall I get the maple sirup for the pancakes ? 
 I wonder if Jerry knows we only use maple sirup 
 when he is here. I'm constantly expecting Connie 
 to give it away. Why am I always so ravenously 
 hungry in the morning? Goodness knows I eat 
 enough — Why, what is the matter?" For Pru- 
 dence had turned her face toward her sister, and it 
 315 
 
316 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 was so white and so unnatural that Fairy was 
 shocked. 
 
 "Prudence! You are sick! Go to bed and let 
 me get breakfast. Why didn't you call me? I'm 
 real angry at you, Prudence Starr! Here, get out 
 of this, and I will " 
 
 "There's nothing the matter with me. I had a 
 headache, and did not sleep, but I am all right now. 
 Yes, bring the sirup, Fairy. Are the girls up yet ?" 
 
 Fairy eyed her suspiciously. "Jerry is out un- 
 usually early, too, isn't he? His door is open. I 
 didn't hear him coming down so he must have quite 
 outdone himself to-day. He generally has to be 
 called twice." 
 
 "Jerry has gone, Fairy." Prudence's back was 
 presented to view once more, and Prudence was 
 stirring the oatmeal with vicious energy. "He left 
 early this morning, — I suppose he is half-way to 
 Des Moines by now." 
 
 "Oh!" Fairy's voice was non-Committal. 
 
 "Will you get the sirup now?" 
 
 "Yes, of course. — When is he coming back?" 
 
 "He isn't coming back. Please hurry. Fairy, and 
 then call the others. The oatmeal is ready." 
 
 Fairy went soberly down cellar, and brought up 
 
SHE COMES TO GRIEE 317 
 
 the golden sirup. Then, ostensibly to call her sis- 
 ters, she hurried up the stairs. 
 
 "Girls," she began, carefully closing the door of 
 their room behind her. "Jerry has gone, and isn't 
 coming back any more. And for goodness' sake, 
 don't keep asking questions about it. Just eat your 
 breakfast as usual, and have a little tact." 
 
 "Gone!" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "A lovers' quarrel," suggested Lark, and her eyes 
 glittered greedily. 
 
 "Nothing of the sort. And don't keep staring 
 at Prue, either. And do not keep talking about 
 Jerry all the time. You mind me, or I will tell 
 papa." 
 
 "That's funny," said, Carol thoughtfully. "We 
 left them kissing each other like mad in the back 
 yard last night, — ^and this morning he has gone to 
 return no more. They are crazy." 
 
 "Kissing! In the back yard! What are you 
 talking about?" 
 
 Carol explained, and Fairy looked still more 
 thoughtful and perturbed. 
 
 She opened the door, and called out to them in a 
 loud and breezy voice, "Hurry, girls, for breakfast 
 
318 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 is ready, and there's no time to waste in a parson- 
 age on Sunday morning." Then she added in a 
 whisper, "And don't you mention Jerry, and don't 
 ask Prudence what makes her so pale, or you'll 
 catch it!" 
 
 Then she went to her father's door. "Breakfast 
 is ready, papa," she called clearly. She turned the 
 knob softly, and peeped in. "May I come in a min- 
 ute?" Standing close beside him, she told him all 
 she knew of what had happened. 
 
 "Prudence is ghastly, father, just ghastly. And 
 she can't talk about it yet, so be careful what you 
 say, will you?" 
 
 And it was due to Fairy's kindly admonitions 
 that the parsonage family took the departure of 
 Jerry so calmly. 
 
 "Fairy says Jerry took the morning train," said 
 Mr. Starr, as they were passing the cream and sugar 
 for the oatmeal. "That is too bad! But it is just 
 the worst of being a business man, — one never 
 knows when one must be up and away. And of 
 course, one can not neglect business interests. — The 
 oatmeal is unusually good this morning, Prudence." 
 This was nothing short of heroic on his part, for 
 her eyes upon her father's face were so wide and 
 
SHE COMES TO GRIEF 319 
 
 dark that the lump in his throat would not stay 
 down. 
 
 That was the beginning of Prudence's bitter win- 
 ter, when the brightest sunshine was cheerless and 
 dreary, and when even the laughter of her sisters 
 smote harshly upon her ears. She tried to be as 
 always, but in ,her eyes the wounded look lingered, 
 and her face grew so pale and thin that her father 
 and Fairy, anxiously watching, were filled with 
 grave concern. She remained almost constantly in 
 the parsonage, reading very little, sitting most of 
 her leisure time staring out the windows. 
 
 Fairy had tried to win her confidence, and had 
 failed. 
 
 "You are a darling, Fairy, but I really do not 
 want to talk about it. — Oh, no, indeed, it is all my 
 own fault. I told him to go, and not come again. — 
 No, you are wrong. Fairy, I do not regret it. I 
 do not want him to come any more." 
 
 And Fairy worried. What in the world had hap- 
 pened to separate in the morning these two who 
 had been kissing so frankly in the back yard the 
 evening before? 
 
 Mr. Starr, too, had tried. "Prudence," he said 
 gently, "you know very often men do things that 
 
320 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 to women seem wrong and wicked. And maybe 
 they are ! But men and women are different by na- 
 ture, my dear, and we must remember that. I have 
 satisfied myself that Jerry is good, and clean, and 
 manly. I do not think you should let any foolish- 
 ness of his in the past, come between you now." 
 
 ",You are mistaken, father. Jerry is all right, 
 and always was, I am sure. It is nothing like that. 
 I told him to go, and not to come again. That 
 is all." 
 
 "But if he should come back now '" 
 
 "It would be just the same. Don't worry about 
 it, father. It's all right." 
 
 "Prudence," he said, more tenderly, "we have 
 been the closest of friends and companions, you and 
 I, from the very beginning. Always you have 
 come to me with your troubles and worries. Have 
 I ever failed you? Why, then, do you go back on 
 me now, when you really need me?" 
 
 Prudence patted his shoulder affectionately, but 
 her eyes did not meet his. "I do not really need 
 you now, father. It is all settled, and I am quite 
 satisfied. Things are all right with me just as they 
 are." 
 
 Then he took a serious step, without her knowl- 
 
SHE COMES TO GRIEF 321 
 
 edge. He went to Des Moines, and had a visit with 
 Jerry. He found him thinner, his face sterner, 
 his eyes darker. When the office boy announced 
 "Mr. Starr," Jerry ran quickly out to greet him. 
 
 "Is she all right?" he cried eagerly, almost be- 
 fore he was within hailing distance. 
 
 Mr. Starr did not mince matters. "Jerry," he 
 said abruptly, "did you and Prudence have a quar- 
 rel ? She declines to tell me anything about it, and 
 after the conversations you and I have had, I think 
 I have a right to know what has happened." 
 
 "Does she miss me? Does she seem sorry that 
 
 I am away? Does " His voice was so boyish 
 
 and so eager there was no mistaking his attitude 
 toward Prudence. 
 
 "Look here, Jerry, I want to know. Why are 
 you staying away?" 
 
 "Won't Prudence tell you?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then I can not. She made me promise not to 
 tell you a word. But it is not my fault, Mr. Starr. 
 I can tell you that. It is nothing I have done or 
 said. She sent me away because she thinks it was 
 right for her to do so, and — you know Prudence I 
 It is wrong, I know. I knew it all the time. But 
 
322 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 I couldn't make her see it. And she made me 
 promise not to tell." 
 
 In the end Mr. Starr went back to the parsonage 
 no wiser than he left, save that he now knew that 
 Jerry was really not to blame, and that he held him- 
 self ready to return to her on a moment's notice. 
 
 The Ladies of the Methodist church were 
 puzzled and exasperated. They went to the par- 
 sonage, determined to "find out what's what." But 
 when they sat with Prudence, and looked at the 
 frail, pathetic little figure, with the mournful 
 eyes, — they could only sigh with her and go their 
 ways. 
 
 The twins continued to play in the great maple, 
 even when the leaves were fallen. "It's a dandy 
 place, I tell you. Prudence," cried Carol. "Jerry 
 didn't have time to put up the rope before Connie 
 pulled him down, but we've fixed it ourselves, and 
 it is simply grand. You can go up and swing any 
 time you like, — unless your joints are too stiff ! It's 
 a very serious matter getting up there, — for stiff 
 joints, of course, I mean. Lark and I get up easy 
 enough." 
 
 For a moment. Prudence sat silent with quivering 
 lips. Then she burst out with unusual passion, 
 
SHE COMES TO GRIEF 323 
 
 "Don't you ever dare climb up in that tree again 
 as long as you live, twins ! Mind what I say !" 
 
 Lark looked thoughtfully out of the window, and 
 Carol swallowed hard. It was she who said gently, 
 "Why, of course, Prue, — just as you say." 
 
 For the first time. Prudence had dealt with 
 them harshly and unfairly. They knew it. 
 There was neither sense nor justice in her com- 
 mand. But they did not argue the point. They 
 kept their eyes considerately away from her, and 
 buried themselves in Julius Caesar, — it must be re- 
 membered the twins are sophomores now. Five 
 minutes later Prudence spoke again, humbly. 
 
 "I beg you pardon, twins, — that was a per- 
 fectly idiotic thing for me to say. Of course, you 
 may play in the maple whenever you like. But 
 be careful. You couldn't save yourselves in fall- 
 ing as — as men can." 
 
 "We won't play there if you want us not to," 
 said Carol kindly. 
 
 "I do want you to play there," she answered. 
 "It's a very nice place, and great fun, I know. I 
 might try it myself if — ^my joints weren't so stiff! 
 Now, go on with your Latin." 
 
 But Prudence did not pass under the maple for 
 
324 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 many weeks witho.ut clenching her hands, and shud- 
 dering. 
 
 The twins were not satisfied. They marveled, 
 and wondered, and pondered over the subject of 
 Jerry's disappearance. Finally they felt it was more 
 than human flesh could stand. They would ap- 
 proach Prudence on the subject themselves. But 
 they bided their time. They must wait until Fairy 
 was safely out of the house. Fairy these days had 
 an infuriating way of saying, "That will do, twins. 
 You'd better go and play now." It enraged and 
 distracted the twins almost to the point of commit- 
 ting crime. 
 
 They had made several artistic moves already. 
 Professor Duke, of their freshman biology class, 
 had written Carol a gay long letter. And Carol 
 was enthusiastic about it. She and Lark talked 
 of "dear old Duck" for two weeks, almost without 
 pausing for sleep. 
 
 "I'm sure you would fall in love with him on 
 the spot," Carol had said to Prudence suggestively. 
 
 Prudence had only smiled, evidently in sarcasm! 
 
 "Jerry was very nice, — oh, very nice, — ^but you 
 ought to see our little Duck!" Carol rattled rashly. 
 "I'm sure you wouldn't regret Jerry any more if 
 
SHE COMES TO GRIEE 325 
 
 you could just get hold of Duckie. Of course, his 
 being in New York is an obstacle, but I could in- 
 troduce you by mail." 
 
 "I do not care for Ducks," said Prudence. 
 "Of course, they look very nice swimming around 
 on the water, but when it comes to eating, — I'll take 
 spring chicken every time." 
 
 Carol did not mention "Duck" again for 'three 
 days. 
 
 But there came a day when Fairy was out in the 
 country. Connie had gone driving with her father. 
 The moment had arrived. The twins had their 
 plan of campaign memorized, and they sauntered 
 in to Prudence with a nonchalance that was all as- 
 sumed. 
 
 "Prudence," Lark began, "we're writing a book." 
 
 "That's nice," said Prudence. Conversation lan- 
 guished. The subject seemed exhausted. 
 
 Carol came to the rescue. "It's a very nice book. 
 It's a love-story, and perfectly thrilling. Larkie 
 does the writing, but I criticize and offer sugges- 
 tions." 
 
 "That's kind of you." 
 
 A pause. 
 
 "I'm going to dedicate it to Carol, — To my be- 
 
326 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 loved sister, to whose kindness and sympathy, I 
 owe all that I am, — or something like that," Lark 
 explained hopefully. 
 
 "How proud Carol will be!" 
 
 A long pause. 
 
 "We're in a very critical place just now, though," 
 Lark seemed to be commencing at the beginning 
 once more. "We have our heroine in a very pe- 
 culiar situation, and we can't think what to do with 
 her next." 
 
 "How sad." 
 
 Another pause. 
 
 "We thought maybe you could help us out." 
 
 "I'm afraid not," Prudence smiled a little. "I 
 haven't any imagination. Ask Fairy. She's strong 
 on love-stories." 
 
 "Maybe if we explain the situation to you, you 
 could give us a suggestion. It is like this: The 
 young people have had all kinds of thrilling ex- 
 periences, but they are not yet betrothed. But they 
 are just on the point of getting there, — and some- 
 thing crops up all of a sudden! The hero goes 
 dashing away, and returns no more. The heroine 
 lies upon her silken couch, weeping, weeping. And 
 
SHE COMES TO GRIEE 327 
 
 no one knows what to do about it, because no one 
 knows what has happened. What do you suppose 
 could have sent the lover away like that?" 
 
 "Maybe he hasn't enough money for the heroine." 
 
 "Oh, yes, — he's very rich." 
 
 "Maybe he is already married." 
 
 "No, indeed. He's a bachelor." 
 
 "Maybe he didn't love her, after all." 
 
 Here Carol chimed in helpfully. "Oh, yes, he 
 did, for we left him kissing her all over the back 
 yard, and he wouldn't have done that if he hadn't 
 loved her, you know." 
 
 Prudence's eyes twinkled a little, but her smile 
 was sad. 
 
 "Now, what would you advise us to do?" in- 
 quired Lark briskly, feeling instinctively that Carol 
 had explained too much. 
 
 Prudence rose slowly. "I think," she said very 
 gently, "I think I would burn the book if I were 
 you, and pay a little more attention to my studies." 
 
 Then she went up-stairs, and Carol told Lark 
 sympathetically that they did not deserve an au- 
 thoress in the parsonage when they didn't give her 
 any more encouragement than that! 
 
328 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 On the day before Christmas, an insured package 
 was delivered at the parsonage for Prudence. A 
 letter was with it, and she read that first 
 
 "My dearest little sweetheart: I chose this gift 
 for you long before I had the right to do it. I was 
 keeping it until the proper moment. But the mo- 
 ment came, and went again. Still I want you to 
 have the gift. Please wear it, for my sake, for I 
 shall be happy knowing it is where it ought to be, 
 even though I myself am banished. I love you, 
 Prudence. Whenever you send for me, I am ready 
 to come. Entirely and always yours, Jerry." 
 
 With trembling fingers she opened the little pack- 
 age. It contained a ring, with a brilliant diamond 
 flashing myriad colors before her eyes. And Pru- 
 dence kissed it passionately, many times. 
 
 Two hours later, she went quietly down-stairs 
 to where the rest of the family were decorating a 
 Christmas tree. She showed the ring to them 
 gravely. 
 
 "Jerry sent it to me," she said. "Do you think 
 it is all right for me to wear it, father?" 
 
 A thrill of hopeful expectancy ran through the 
 little group. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," declared her father. "How beau- 
 
SHE COMES TO GRIEF 329 
 
 tiful it isl Is Jerry coming to spend Christmas 
 ■with us?" 
 
 "Why, no, father, — he is not coming at all any 
 more. I thought you understood that." 
 
 An awkward silence, and Carol came brightly 
 to the rescue. "It certainly is a beauty ! I thought 
 it was very kind of Professor Duckie to send Lark 
 and me a five-pound box of chocolates, but of 
 course this is ever so much nicer. Jerry's a bird, 
 I say." 
 
 "A bird!" mocked Fairy. "Such language." 
 
 Lark came to her twin's defense. "Yes, a bird, — 
 that's just what he is." 
 
 Carol smiled. "We saw him use his wings when 
 Connie yanked him out of the big maple, didn't 
 we, Lark?" Then, "Did you send him anything, 
 Prue?" 
 
 Prudettce hesitated, and answered without the 
 slightest accession of color, "Yes, Carol. I had my 
 picture taken when I was in Burlington, and sent 
 it to him." 
 
 "Your picture! Oh, Prudence! Where are 
 they? Aren't you going to give us one?" 
 
 "No, Carol. I had only one made,— -for Jerry. 
 There aren't any more." 
 
330 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 "Well," sighed Lark resignedly, "it's a pretty 
 idea for my book, anyhow." 
 
 From that day on, Prudence always wore the 
 sparkling ring, — and the women of the Methodist 
 church nearly had mental paralysis marveling over 
 a man who gave a diamond ring, and never came 
 a-wooing! And a girl who accepted and wore his 
 offering, with nothing to say for the man ! And it 
 was the consensus of opinion in Mount Mark that 
 modern lovers were mostly crazy, anyhow! 
 
 And springtime came again. 
 
 Now the twins were always original in their 
 amusements. They never followed blindly after 
 the dictates of custom; When other girls were play- 
 ing dolls, the twins were a tribe of wild Indians. 
 When other girls were jumping the rope, the twins 
 were conducting a circus. And when other girls 
 played "catch" with dainty rubber balls, the twins 
 took unto themselves a big and heavy croquet 
 ball, — found in the Avery woodshed. To be sure, 
 it stung and bruised their hands. What matter? 
 At any rate, they continued endangering their lives 
 and beauties by reckless pitching of the ungainly 
 plaything. 
 
 One Friday evening after school, they were amus- 
 
SHE COMES TO GRIEF 331 
 
 ing themselves on the parsonage lawn with this huge 
 ball. When their father turned in, they ran up to 
 him with a sporting proposition. 
 
 "Bet you a nickel, papa," cried Carol, "that you 
 can't throw this ball as far as the schoolhouse wood- 
 shed! — By the way, will you lend me a nickel, 
 papa ?" 
 
 He took the ball, and weighed it lightly in his 
 hand. "I'm an anti-betting society," he declared, 
 laughing, "but I very strongly believe it will carry 
 to the schoolhouse woodshed. If it does not, I'll 
 give you five cents' worth pf candy to-morrow. 
 And if it does, you shall put an extra nickel in the 
 collection next Sunday." 
 
 Then he drew back his arm, and carefully sighted 
 across the lawn. "I'll send it right between the 
 corner of the house and that little cedar," he said, 
 and then, bending low, it whizzed from his hand. 
 
 Lark screamed, and Carol sank fainting to the 
 ground. For an instant, Mr. Starr himself stood 
 swaying. Then he rushed across the lawn. For 
 Prudence had opened the front door, and stepped 
 quickly out on the walk by the corner of the house. 
 The heavy ball struck her on the forehead, and she 
 Jell heavily, without a moan. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 FATE TAKES CHARGE 
 
 FOUR hours Prudence lay unconscious, with 
 two doctors in close attendance. Fairy, alert 
 but calm, was at hand to give them service. 
 ^ It is a significant thing that in bitter anguish and 
 grief. Christians find comfort and peace in prayer. 
 Outsiders, as well as Christians, pray in times of 
 danger and mental stress. But here is the big dif- 
 ference between the prayers of Christians and the 
 prayers of "others." "Others" pray, and pray, and 
 pray again, and continue still in the agony and pas- 
 sion of grief and fear. And yet they pray. But 
 Christians pray, and find confidence and serenity. 
 Sorrow may remain, but anguish is stilled. 
 
 Mount Mark considered this a unique parsonage 
 'family. Their liveliness, their gaiety, their love of 
 fun, seemed a little inapropos in the setting of a 
 Methodist parsonage. 
 
 "They ain't sanctimonious enough by half," de- 
 332 
 
FATE TAKES CHARGE 333 
 
 dared old Harvey Reel, the bus driver, "but, by 
 Jings ! I tell you they are dandies !" 
 
 But as a matter of fact, every one of the family, 
 from Connie up, had a characteristic parsonage 
 heart. When they were worried, or frightened, 
 or grieved, they prayed. Fairy passing up the stairs 
 with hot water for the doctors, whispered to her 
 father as he turned in to his own room, "Keep on 
 praying, father. I can't stop now, because they 
 need me. But I'm praying every minute between 
 errands!" And Mr. Starr, kneeling beside his bed, 
 did pray, — and the stony despair in his eyes died 
 out, and he came from the little room quiet, and 
 [confident, and calm. 
 
 Cormie had been unfortunate. In seeking a se- 
 cluded corner to "pray for Prudence," she had 
 passed the door of the dungeon, and paused. A fit- 
 ting place ! So she turned in at once, drawing the 
 door after her, but leaving it a couple of inches 
 ajar. Then in the farthest and darkest corner, she 
 knelt on the hard floor, and prayed, and sobbed 
 herself to sleep. Fairy passing through the hall, 
 observed the door ajar, and gave it a slight push. 
 The lock snapped into place, but Connie did not 
 waken. 
 
334 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 Lark remained loyally with Carol until conscious- 
 ness returned to her. As soon as she was able to 
 walk, the two went silently to the barn, and climbed 
 into the much-loved haymow.' There they lat flat 
 on the hay, faces downward, each with an arm 
 across the other's shoulder, praying fervently. 
 After a time they rose and crept into the house, 
 where they waited patiently until Fairy came down 
 on one of her numerous errands. ^ 
 
 "Is she better?" they whispered. And Fairy an- 
 swered gently, "I think she is a little better." Then 
 the twins, in no way deceived, went back to the 
 haymow again. 
 
 Fairy prepared a hasty supper, and arranged it 
 on the kitchen table. She drank a cup of hot coffee, 
 and went in search of her father. "Go and eat, 
 dadsie," she urged. But he shook his head. 
 
 "I am not hungry, but send the girls to the table 
 at once." 
 
 On their next trip into the house. Fairy stopped 
 the twins. "Get Connie, and eat your supper. It's 
 just a cold lunch, and is already on the kitchen 
 table, you must help yourselves, — I can't come 
 now." 
 
FATE TAKES CHARGE 335 
 
 The twins did not speak, and Fairy went hur- 
 riedly up the stairs once more. 
 
 "I do not think I can eat," said Carol. 
 
 "I know I can't," was Lark's reply. 
 
 "Won't Fairy make us? She'll tell papa." 
 
 "We'd better take away about half of this food, 
 and hide it. Then she will think we have already 
 eaten." 
 
 This novel plan was acted upon with promptitude. 
 
 "Where's Connie? She ought to eat something. 
 We must make her do it." 
 
 "She probably gried herself to sleep somewhere. 
 We'd better let her alone. She'll feel much better 
 asleep and hungry, than awake and sorry for Prue." 
 
 So the twins went back to the haymow. When 
 it grew dark, they slipped into the kitchen, and 
 huddled together\ on, the woodbox beside the stove. 
 And down to them presently came Fairy, smiling, 
 her eyes tear-brightened. 
 
 "She is better!" cried Carol, springing to her feet. 
 
 "Yes," said Fairy, dropping on her knees and 
 burying her face in Lark's lap, as she still sat on 
 the woodbox. "She's better. She is better." Lark 
 patted the heaving shoulders in a motherly way, 
 
336 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 and when Fairy lifted her face again it was all 
 serene, though her lashes were wet. 
 
 "She is conscious," said Fairy, still on her knees, 
 but with her head thrown back, and smiling. "She 
 regained consciousness a little while ago. There 
 is nothing really serious the matter. It was a hard 
 knock, but it missed the temple. When she became 
 conscious, she looked up at father and smiled. 
 Father looked perfectly awful, twins, so pale, and 
 his lips were trembling. And Prudence said, 'Now, 
 father, on your word of honor, did you knock me 
 down with that ball on purpose?' She spoke very 
 low, and weak, but — ^just like Prudence! Father 
 couldn't say a word, he just nodded, and gulped. 
 She has a little fever, and the doctors say we may 
 need to work with her part of the night. Father 
 said to ask if you would go to bed now, so you 
 can get up early in the morning and help us. I 
 am to stay with Prudence to-night, but you may 
 have to take turns in the morning. And you'll have 
 to get breakfast, too. So father thinks you would 
 better go to bed. Will you do that, twinnies ?" 
 
 "Will we!" And Carol added, "Will you kiss 
 Prudence good night for us, and tell her we kept 
 
FATE TAKES CHARGE 337 
 
 praying all the time? Prudence is such a great 
 hand for praying, you know." 
 
 Fairy promised, and the twins crept up-stairs. 
 It was dark in their room. 
 
 "We'll undress in the dark so as not to awake 
 poor little Connie," whispered Lark. "It's nice she 
 can sleep like that, isn't it?" 
 
 And the twins, went to bed, and fell asleep after 
 a while, never doubting that Connie, in her comer 
 of the room, was already safe and happy in the 
 oblivion of slumber. 
 
 But poor Connie! She had not wakened when 
 Fairy closed the dungeon door. It was long after- 
 ward when she sat up and began rubbing her eyes. 
 She did not know where she was. Then she re- 
 membered! She wondered if Prudence — She 
 scrambled to her feet, and trotted over to the dun- 
 geon door. It was locked, she could not turn the 
 knob. At first, she thought of screaming and 
 pounding on the door. 
 
 "But that will arouse Prudence, and frighten her, 
 and maybe kill her," she thought wretchedly. "I'll 
 just keep still until some one passes." 
 
 But no one passed for a long time, and Connie 
 
338 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 stretched her aching little body and sobbed, worry- 
 ing about Prudence, fearful on her own account. 
 She had no idea of the time. She supposed it was 
 still early. And the parsonage was deathly quiet. 
 Maybe Prudence had died! Connie writhed in 
 agony on the hard floor, and sobbed bitterly. Still 
 she would not risk pounding on the dungeon door. 
 
 Up-stairs, in the front room, Prudence was at 
 that time wrestling with fever. Higher and higher 
 it rose, until the doctors looked very anxious. They 
 held a brief consultation in the corner of the room. 
 Then they beckoned^ to Mr. Starr. 
 
 "Has Prudence been worrying about something 
 this winter?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Has she been grieving, and fretting for some- 
 thing?" 
 
 "Yes, she has." 
 
 "It is that young man, isn't it?" inquired the 
 family doctor, — a Methodist "member." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Can you bring him here?" 
 
 ^'Yes, — as soon as he can get here from Des 
 Moines." 
 
 ",You'd better do it. She has worn herself down 
 
FATE TAKES CHARGE 339 
 
 nearly to the point of prostration. We think we 
 can break this fever without serious consequences, 
 but get the young man as soon as possible. She 
 can not relax and rest, until she gets relief." 
 
 So he went down-stairs and over the telephone 
 dictated a short message to Jerry. "Please come, — 
 Prudence." 
 
 When he entered the front bedroom again. 
 Prudence was muttering unintelligible words un- 
 der her breath. He kneeled down beside the bed, 
 and put his arms around her. She clung to him 
 with sudden passion. 
 
 "Jerry! Jerry!" she cried. Her father caressed 
 and petted her, but did not speak. 
 
 "Oh, I can't," she cried again. "I can't, Jerry, I 
 can't!" Again her voice fell to low mumbling. 
 "Yes, go. Go at once. I promised, you know. — 
 They haven't any mother. — I promised. Jerry! 
 Jerry!" Her voice rang out so wildly that 
 Connie, down in the dungeon, heard her cries 
 and sobbed anew, relieved that Prudence was living, 
 frightened at the wildness of her voice. "Oh, I do 
 want you — more than anybody. Don't go! — Oh, 
 yes, go at once. I promised. — Father needs me." 
 And then a piercing shriek, "He is falling! Con- 
 
340 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 nie, drop that rope !" She struggled up in the bed, 
 and gazed wildly about her, — ^then, panting, she 
 fell back on the pillows. 
 
 But Mr. Starr smiled gently to himself. So that 
 was the answer ! Oh, foolish little Prudence ! Oh, 
 sweet-hearted little tnartyr girl! 
 
 Hours later the fever broke, and Prudence drifted 
 into a deep sleep. Then the doctors went down- 
 stairs with Mr. Starr, talking in quiet ordinary 
 tones. 
 
 "Oh, she is all right now, no danger at all. She'll 
 do fine. Let her sleep. Send Fairy to bed, too. 
 Keep Prudence quiet a few days, — that's all. She's 
 all right." 
 
 They did not hear the timid knock at the dun- 
 geon door. But after they had gone out, Mr. Starr 
 locked the door behind them, and started back 
 through the hall to see if the kitchen doors were 
 locked. He distinctly heard a soft tapping, and he 
 smiled. "Mice !" he thought. Then he heard some- 
 thing else, — a faintly whispered "Father!" 
 
 With a sharp exclamation he unlocked and opened 
 the dungeon door, and Connie fell into his arms, 
 sobbing piteously. And he did the only wise thing 
 to do under such circumstances. He sat down on 
 
FATE TAKES CHARGE 341 
 
 the Tiall floor and cuddled the child against his 
 breast. He talked to her soothingly until the sobs 
 quieted, and her voice was under control. 
 
 "Now, tell father," he urged, "how did you get 
 in the dungeon? The twins " 
 
 "Oh, no, father, of course not, the twins wouldn't 
 do such a thing as that. I went into the dungeon 
 to pray that Prudence would get well. And I 
 prayed myself to sleep. When I woke up the door 
 was locked." 
 
 "But you precious child," he whispered, "why 
 didn't you tall out, or pound on the door?" 
 
 "I was afraid it would excite Prue and make her 
 worse," she answered simply. And her father's 
 kiss was unwontedly tender as he carried her up- 
 stairs to bed. 
 
 Prudence slept late the next morning, and when 
 she opened her eyes her father was sitting be- 
 side her. 
 
 "All right this morning, father," she said, smil- 
 ing. "Are the girls at school?" 
 
 "No,— this is Saturday." 
 
 "Oh, of course. Well, bring them up, I want 
 to see them.'' 
 
 Just then the distant whistle of a locomotive 
 
342 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 sounded through the open window, but sh6 did not 
 notice her father's sudden start. She nodded up at 
 him again, and repeated, "I want to see my girls." 
 
 Her father sent them up to her at once, and they 
 stood at the foot of the bed with sorry faces, and 
 smiled at her. 
 
 "Say something," whispered Carol, kicking Lark 
 suggestively on the foot. But Lark was dumb. It 
 was Carol who broke the silence. 
 
 "Oh, Prudence, do you suppose the doctors will 
 let me come in and watch them bandage your head ? 
 I want to begin practising up, so as to be ready for 
 the next war." 
 
 Then they laughed, and the girls realized that 
 Prudence was really alive and quite as always. 
 They told her of Connie's sad experience, and Pru- 
 dence comforted her sweetly. 
 
 "It just proves all over again," she declared, 
 smiling, but with a sigh close following, "that you 
 can't get along without me to look after you. 
 Would I ever go to bed without making sure that 
 Connie was safe and sound?" 
 
 Down-stairs, meanwhile, Mr. Starr was plotting 
 with Fairy, a willing assistant. 
 
 "He'll surely be in on this train, and you musli 
 
FATE TAKES CHARGE 343 
 
 keep him down here until I get through with Pru- 
 dence. I want to tell her a few things before she 
 sees him. Bring him in quietly, and don't let him 
 speak loudly. I do not want her to know he is 
 on hand for a few minutes. Explain it to the girls, 
 will you?" 
 
 After sending the younger girls down-stairs 
 again, he closed the door of Prudence's room, and 
 sat down beside her. 
 
 "Prudence, I can't tell you how bitterly disap- 
 pointed I am in you." 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 "Yes, I thought you loved us, — ^the girls and me. 
 It never occurred to me tha,t you considered us a 
 bunch of selfish, heartless, ungrateful animals!" 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 "Is that your idea of love? Is that " 
 
 "Oh, father!" 
 
 "It really did hurt me. Prudence. My dear little 
 girl, how could you send Jerry away, brewing your 
 heart and his, and ours, too, — ^just because you 
 thought us such a selfish lot that we would begrudge 
 you any happiness of your own? Don't you think 
 our love for you is big enough to make us happy 
 In seeing you happy ? You used to say you would 
 
344 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 never marry. We did not expect you to marry, 
 then. But we knew the time would come when mar- 
 riage would seem beautiful and desirable to you. 
 We were waiting for that time. We were hoping 
 for it. We were happy when you loved Jerry, be- 
 cause we knew he was good and kind and loving, 
 and that he could give you all the beautiful things 
 of life — that I can never give my children. But 
 you thought we were too selfish to let you go, and 
 you sent him away." 
 
 "But father! Who would raise the girls? Who 
 would keep the parsonage ? Who would look after 
 you?" 
 
 "Aunt Grace, to be sure. We talked it over two 
 years ago, when her husband died. Before that, 
 she was not free to come to us. But she said then 
 that whenever we were ready for her, she would 
 come. We both felt that since you were getting 
 along so magnificently with the girls, it was better 
 that way for a while. But she said that when your 
 flitting-time came, she would come to us gladly. 
 We had it all arranged. You won't want to marry 
 for a year or so, yet. You'll want to have some 
 happy sweetheart days first. And you'll want to 
 make a lot of those pretty, useless, nonsensical 
 
. FATE TAKES CHARGE 345 
 
 things other girls make when they marry. That's 
 "why I advised you to save your burglar money, — 
 so you would have it for this. We'll have Aunt 
 Grace come right away, so you can take a little 
 freedom to be happy, and to make your plans. And 
 you can initiate Aunt Grace into the mysteries of 
 parsonage housekeeping." 
 
 A bright strange light had flashed over Pru- 
 dence's face. But her eyes clouded a little as she 
 asked, "Do you think they would rather have Aunt 
 Grace than me?" 
 
 "Of course not But what has that to do with 
 it? We love you so dearly that we can only be 
 happy when you are happy. We love you so dearly 
 that we can be happy with you away from us, — ^just 
 knowing that you are happy. But you — you 
 thought our love was such a hideous, selflsh, little 
 make-believe that " 
 
 "Oh, father, I didn't! You know I didn't!— 
 But-^maybe Jerry won't forgive me now?" 
 : "Why didn't you talk it over with me. Pru- 
 dence?" 
 
 "I-knew you-too well, father. I knew it would 
 
 be useless. ,But— doesn't it seem wrong, father, 
 
 ^at-^agirl^^that I-^shouldlove Jerry more than 
 
346 PRUDENCE OF THE PARSONAGE 
 
 — ^you and the girls? That he should come first? 
 Doesn't it seem — ^wicked?" 
 
 "No, Prudence, it is not wicked. After all, per- 
 haps it is not a stronger and deeper love. You 
 were willing to sacrifice him and yourself, for our 
 sakes ! But it is a different love. It is the love of 
 woman for man, — that is very different from sister- 
 love and father-love. And it is right. And it is 
 beautiful." 
 
 "I am sure Jerry will forgive me. Maybe if 
 you will send me a paper and pencil — ^I can write 
 him a note now? There's no use waiting, is there? 
 Fairy will bring it, I am sure." 
 
 But when a few minutes later, she heard a stepi 
 in the hall outside, she laid her arm across her face. 
 Somehow she felt that thcj wonderful joy and love 
 shining in her eyes should be kept hidden until 
 Jerry was there to see. She heard the door open, 
 and close again. 
 
 "Put them on the table. Fairy dearest, and — Cleave 
 me for a little while, will you? Thank you." And 
 her face was still hidden. 
 
 Then the table by the bedside was swiftly drawn 
 away, and Jerry kneeled beside her, and drew thei 
 arm from her face. 
 
FATE TAKES CHARGE 347 
 
 "Jerry !" she whispered, half unbelievingly. Then 
 joyously, "Oh, Jerry!" She gazed anxiously into 
 his face. "Have you been sick? How thin you 
 are, and so pale! Jerry Harmer, you need me to 
 take care of you, don't you?" 
 
 But Jerry did not speak. He looked earnestly 
 and steadily into the joyful eyes for a moment, and 
 then he pressed his face to hers. 
 
 THE END