iving, 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! Connie, 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 martyr girl!

Hours later the fever broke, and Prudence drifted into a deep sleep.
Then the doctors went downstairs 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 dungeon 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 something 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 the hall 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 call 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
upstairs to bed.

Prudence slept late the next morning, and when she opened her eyes her
father was sitting beside her.

"All right this morning, father," she said, smiling. "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 sounded through the open
window, but she did not notice her father's sudden start. She nodded
up at him again, and repeated, "I want