ed.

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 center 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 off?"

"I would keep them on, Prue,--they catch the 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,--listen, 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 Starr, and Prudence 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 Prudence. And she smiled as
she heard her father's cordial voice.

"You are Mr. Harmer, aren't you? I am Prudence's father. Come right in.
The whole family is assembled to do you honor. The girls have already
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,