Prudence of the Parsonage Part 29

At twenty minutes to four, the parsonage family cl.u.s.tered 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 a.s.sembled 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," he said gaily, but with tenderness, "I am afraid you are not feeling well enough for callers to-day."

"Oh, yes, I am," protested Prudence with strange shyness.

He turned to the other girls, and greeted them easily. He was entirely self-possessed. "Miss Starr told me so much about you that I know you all to begin with." He smiled at Fairy as he added, "In fact, she predicted that I am to fall in love with you. And so, very likely, I should,--if I hadn't met your sister first."

They all laughed at that, and then he walked back and stood by Prudence once more. "Was it a bad sprain? Does it pain you very badly? You look tired. I am afraid it was an imposition for me to come this afternoon."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "She predicted I'm to fall in love with you."]

"Oh, don't worry about that," put in Connie anxiously. "She wanted you to come. She's been getting us ready for you ever since the doctor left.

I think it was kind of silly for me to wear my blue just for one caller."

The twins glared at her, realizing that she was discrediting the parsonage, but Jerrold Harmer laughed, and Prudence joined him.

"It is quite true," she admitted frankly. "The mule and I disgraced the parsonage this morning, and I wanted the rest of you to redeem it this afternoon." She looked at him inquiringly. "Then you had another coat?"

"No, I didn't. I saw this one in a window this morning, and couldn't resist it. Was the ride very hard on your ankle?"

Mr. Starr was puzzled. Evidently it was not lack of funds which brought this man on foot from Des Moines to Mount Mark,--half-way across the state! He did not look like a man fleeing from justice. What, then, was the explanation?

"You must have found it rather a long walk," he began tentatively, his eyes on the young man's face.

"Yes, I think my feet are a little blistered. I have walked farther than that many times, but I am out of practise now. Sometimes, however, walking is a painful necessity."

"How long did it take you coming from Des Moines to Mount Mark?" inquired Carol in a subdued and respectful voice,--and curious, withal.

"I did not come directly to Mount Mark. I stopped several places on business. I hardly know how long it would take coming straight, through.

It would depend on one's luck, I suppose."

"Well," said Lark, "taking it a little at a time it might be done, but for myself, I should never dream of undertaking so much exercise."

"Could you walk from here to Burlington at one stretch?" asked Connie.

He looked rather surprised. "Why, perhaps I could if I was in shape, but--seven miles was all I cared about this morning."

"Well, I think it was mighty brave of you to walk that far,--I don't care why you did it," announced Connie with emphasis.

"Brave!" he repeated. "I have walked three times seven miles, often, when I was in school."

"Oh, I mean the whole thing--clear from Des Moines," explained Connie.

"From Des Moines," he gasped. "Good heavens! I did not walk from Des Moines! Did you--" He turned to Prudence questioningly. "Did you think I walked clear from Des Moines?"

"Yes." And added hastily, "But I did not care if you did. It did not make any difference how you came."

For a moment he was puzzled. Then he burst out laughing. "I am afraid we had too much to talk about this morning. I thought I had explained my situation, but evidently I did not. I drove from Des Moines in the car, and----"

"The automobile!" gasped Carol, with a triumphant look at Lark.

"Yes, just so. I stopped several places on business as I came through.

I drove from Burlington this morning, but I got off the road. The car broke down on me, and I couldn't fix it,--broke an axle. So I had to walk in. That is what I was seeing about to-day,--sending a man out for the car and arranging about the repairs." He smiled again. "What in the world did you think I would walk from Des Moines for?" he asked Prudence, more inquisitive than grammatical.

"I did not think anything about it until they asked, and--I did not know about the car. You did not mention it."

"No. I remember now. We were talking of other things all the time." He turned frankly to Mr. Starr. "Perhaps you have heard of the Harmer Automobile Company, of Des Moines. My father was Harvey Harmer. Two years ago, when I was running around in Europe, he died. It was his desire that I should personally take charge of the business. So I hurried home, and have had charge of the company since then. We are establishing sales agencies here, and in Burlington, and several other towns. I came out for a little trip, and took advantage of the opportunity to discuss the business with our new men. That's what brought me to Mount Mark." To Connie he added laughingly, "So I must sacrifice myself, and do without your praise. I did not walk until the car broke down and compelled me to do so."

For the first time in her life, Prudence distinctly triumphed over her father. She flashed him the glance of a conqueror, and he nodded, understandingly. He liked Jerrold Harmer,--as much as he could like any man who stepped seriously into the life of Prudence. He was glad that things were well. But--they would excuse him, he must look after his Sunday's sermons.

A little later the twins and Connie grew restless, and finally Connie blurted out, "Say, Prue, don't you think we've upheld the parsonage long enough? I want to get some fresh air." The twins would never have been guilty of such social indiscretion as this, but they gladly availed themselves of Connie's "break," and followed her out-of-doors. Then Fairy got up, laughing. "I have done my share, too. I think we'll leave the parsonage in your hands now, Prue. I want to write to Aunt Grace.

I'll be just at the head of the stairs, and if Prudence wants me, you will call, won't you, Mr. Harmer? And won't you stay for dinner with us?

I'm sure to disgrace the parsonage again, for I am no cook, but you can get along for once, surely. We spend more time laughing when the food is bad, and laughter is very healthful. You will stay, won't you?"

Jerrold Harmer looked very eager, and yet he looked somewhat doubtfully at Prudence. Her eyes were eloquent with entreaties. Finally he laughed, and said, "I should certainly like to stay, but you see I want to come back to-morrow. Now, will I dare to come back to-morrow if I stay for dinner to-night? Wouldn't Connie say that was disgracing the parsonage?"

Fairy laughed delightedly. "That is very good," she said. "Then you will stay. I'll try to fix it up with Connie to save the reputation of the house. Now, do not talk too much, Prue, and--what shall we have for dinner? We only say dinner when we have company, Mr. Harmer. What we have is supper."

Prudence contracted her brows in the earnest endeavor to compose a menu suitable for this occasion. "Mashed potatoes, and--use cream, Fairy.

You'd better let Lark do the mashing, for you always leave lumps. And breaded veal cutlet," with a significant glance, "and creamed peas, and radishes, and fruit. Will that be enough for you, Mr. Harmer?"

"Oceans," he said contentedly.

"Well, I'll collect the twins and Connie and we will try to think up a few additions. Where's the money?"

"In the dungeon, and the key is on the nail above the door. And the silverware is there, too," with another significant glance.

After that, Prudence lay back happily on the pillows and smoothed the lace on her mother's silk dressing gown.