oul 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 difficult for them,
they had been reared in the hospitable 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 corner, seemed to be giving dissatisfaction. It was
Mrs. Adams who sat there first. She squirmed quite a little, 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 needles for the reception of the poor Ladies? At
first opportunity, she hurried into the secluded corner, 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
discovered at once to her dismay that the chair was bottomless, 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 comment upon
privately.

So up rose Prudence, conscientiously pulling 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 nothing about it."

At that moment, the luckless Carol went running through the hall.
Prudence knew it was she, without 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