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On their next trip into the house, Fairy stopped the twins. "Get Connie, and eat your supper. It's just a cold lunch, and is already on the kitchen table. You must help yourselves,--I can't come now."
The twins did not speak, and Fairy went hurriedly up the stairs once more.
"I do not think I can eat," said Carol.
"I know I can't," was Lark's reply.
"Won't Fairy make us? She'll tell papa."
"We'd better take away about half of this food, and hide it. Then she will think we have already eaten."
This novel plan was acted upon with prompt.i.tude.
"Where's Connie? She ought to eat something. We must make her do it."
"She probably cried herself to sleep somewhere. We'd better let her alone. She'll feel much better asleep and hungry, than awake and sorry for Prue."
So the twins went back to the haymow. When it grew dark, they slipped into the kitchen, and huddled together on, the woodbox beside the stove. And down to them presently came Fairy, smiling, her eyes tear-brightened.
"She is better!" cried Carol, springing to her feet.
"Yes," said Fairy, dropping on her knees and burying her face in Lark's lap, as she still sat on the woodbox. "She's better. She is better."
Lark patted the heaving shoulders in a motherly way, and when Fairy lifted her face again it was all serene, though her lashes were wet.
"She is conscious," said Fairy, still on her knees, but with her head thrown back, and smiling. "She regained consciousness a little while ago. There is nothing really serious the matter. It was a hard knock, but it missed the temple. When she became conscious, she looked up at father and smiled. Father looked perfectly awful, twins, so pale, and his lips were trembling. And Prudence said, 'Now, father, on your word of honor, did you knock me down with that ball on purpose?' She spoke very low, and weak, but--just like Prudence! Father couldn't say a word, he just nodded, and gulped. She has a little fever, and the doctors say we may need to work with her part of the night. Father said to ask if you would go to bed now, so you can get up early in the morning and help us. I am to stay with Prudence to-night, but you may have to take turns in the morning. And you'll have to get breakfast, too. So father thinks you would better go to bed. Will you do that, twinnies?"
"Will we!" And Carol added, "Will you kiss Prudence good night for us, and tell her we kept praying all the time? Prudence is such a great hand for praying, you know."
Fairy promised, and the twins crept up-stairs. It was dark in their room.
"We'll undress in the dark so as not to awake poor little Connie,"
whispered Lark. "It's nice she can sleep like that, isn't it?"
And the twins went to bed, and fell asleep after a while, never doubting that Connie, in her corner of the room, was already safe and happy in the oblivion of slumber.
But poor Connie! She had not wakened when Fairy closed the dungeon door. It was long afterward when she sat up and began rubbing her eyes. She did not know where she was. Then she remembered! She wondered if Prudence-- She scrambled to her feet, and trotted over to the dungeon door. It was locked, she could not turn the k.n.o.b. At first, she thought of screaming and pounding on the door.
"But that will arouse Prudence, and frighten her, and maybe kill her,"
she thought wretchedly. "I'll just keep still until some one pa.s.ses."
But no one pa.s.sed for a long time, and Connie stretched her aching little body and sobbed, worrying about Prudence, fearful on her own account. She had no idea of the time. She supposed it was still early. And the parsonage was deathly quiet. Maybe Prudence had died!
Connie writhed in agony on the hard floor, and sobbed bitterly. Still she would not risk pounding on the dungeon door.
Up-stairs, in the front room, Prudence was at that time wrestling with fever. Higher and higher it rose, until the doctors looked very anxious. They held a brief consultation in the corner of the room.
Then they beckoned to Mr. Starr.
"Has Prudence been worrying about something this winter?"
"Yes."
"Has she been grieving, and fretting for something?"
"Yes, she has."
"It is that young man, isn't it?" inquired the family doctor,--a Methodist "member."
"Yes."
"Can you bring him here?"
"Yes,--as soon as he can get here from Des Moines."
"You'd better do it. She has worn herself down nearly to the point of prostration. We think we can break this fever without serious consequences, but get the young man as soon as possible. She can not relax and rest, until she gets relief."
So he went down-stairs and over the telephone dictated a short message to Jerry. "Please come,--Prudence."
When he entered the front bedroom again, Prudence was muttering unintelligible words under her breath. He kneeled down beside the bed, and put his arms around her. She clung to him with sudden pa.s.sion.
"Jerry! Jerry!" she cried. Her father caressed and petted her, but did not speak.
"Oh, I can't," she cried again. "I can't, Jerry, I can't!" Again her voice fell to low mumbling. "Yes, go. Go at once. I promised, you know.--They haven't any mother.--I promised. Jerry! Jerry!" Her voice rang out so wildly that Connie, down in the dungeon, heard her cries and sobbed anew, relieved that Prudence was living, 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 circ.u.mstances. 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?"