ouse. 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
woodshed for over an hour. Then they betook themselves 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, looking soberly out into the moonlit parsonage yard. "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 toward his closed door, wanting her. At three o'clock 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 flown, agonizingly anxious, knowing that
something was wrong. Prudence was waiting for him, and as he reached
the bottom step she clutched his hands desperately.

"Jerry," she whispered, "I--forgive me--I honestly-- 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 promised papa and the girls a doz