Prudence of the Parsonage Part 23

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 important?"

The cashier smiled. "The Methodist minister's little girl, isn't it?

Yes, I will tell him."

Mr. Harold looked up impatiently at the interruption.

"It's the Methodist minister's little daughter, and she says it is important for her to speak to you privately."

"Oh! Probably a message from her father. Bring her in."

Mr. Harold was one of the trustees of the Methodist church, and prominent among them. His keen eyes 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 eyes twinkled, but he spoke briskly. "Did your father send you on an errand?"

"No, father is out of town. I came on business,--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 Constance?"

"I want to borrow five dollars from the bank, Mr. Harold?"

"You--did Prudence send you?"

"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 pa.s.sed, but then I remembered that parsonage people must always do business 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 dollars 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 looking forward to a new coat, Mr. Harold. I've never had 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 embarra.s.sed.

"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 money 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 Prudence 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 understandingly. "I don't think I could wear a coat of father's to church,--it's cut down of course, 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 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 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 effort. "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 interest, 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 payments, 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, parsonage 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 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 when Connie arrived. She exhaled quiet satisfaction from every pore. Prudence glanced at her once, and then looked away again. "She has reconciled herself," she thought. Dinner was half over before Constance 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, Prudence?" 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."

"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."