Chapter 12

ROUSED FROM HER SLUMBER

At twenty minutes to four, the parsonage family clustered 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 assembled 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."

"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.

"Talk to me," she said, "tell me about where you live, and what you do,--your work, you know, and how you amuse yourself. I want you to amuse me now, Mr. Harmer."

"You called me Jerry this morning."

"Yes, I know. Do you want me to call you Jerry still?"

"Yes, Prudence, I do. Do you mind if I move my chair a little closer?"

"No, put it right here. Now, I am ready."

"But there's nothing interesting about me. Let's talk of----"

"It's interesting to me. Tell me about your business."

"You don't care anything about business, I am sure."

"I care about your business."

"Do you, Prudence?--You look so sweet this afternoon. I nearly blurted it out before the whole family. Wouldn't the twins have laughed? It would have disgraced the parsonage. I think Mr. Starr is awfully lucky to have five girls, and all of them pretty. But isn't it strange that the prettiest and dearest one of them all should be the oldest daughter?"

"Oh, but I'm not really--" Prudence began earnestly. Then she stopped, and added honestly, "But I am glad you think so."

No, they did not quote poetry, they did not discuss the psychological intricacies of spontaneous attraction, they did not say anything deep, or wise, or learned. But they smiled at each other, with pleased investigating eyes. He put his hand on the coverlet, just near enough to touch the lace on the sleeve of her silk dressing gown. And together they found Paradise in the shabby sitting-room of the old Methodist parsonage that afternoon.

"Must you prepare meat for breading half an hour before cooking, or when?" demanded Fairy, from the dining-room door.

"What?--Oh!--Fifteen minutes before. Don't forget to salt and pepper the crumbs, Fairy."

"Perhaps some time your father will let you and a couple of the others come to Des Moines with me in the car. You would enjoy a few days there, I know. I live with my aunt, a dear, motherly little old soul. She will adore you, Prudence, and you will like her, too. Would your father let you spend a week? We can easily drive back and forth in the car."

"Maybe he will,--but who will keep the parsonage while I am away?"

"Fairy, to be sure. She must be a good fairy once in a while. We can take the twins with us, Connie, too, if you like, and then Fairy will only have to mother your father. Do you like riding in a car?"

"Oh, I love it. But I have not ridden very much. Willard Morley took me quite often when he was here, but he is in Chicago now."

"When's he coming back?" suspiciously.

"Prudence, shall we have tea or coffee?" This was Lark from the doorway. "Fairy wants to know."

"What?--Oh!--Which do you want, Jerry?"

"Which does your father prefer?"

"He doesn't drink either except for breakfast."

"I generally drink coffee, but I do not care much for it, so do not bother----"

"Coffee, Lark."

"When's that Morley chap coming back?"

"I do not know." And then, "He is never coming back as far as I am concerned."

Jerrold relented promptly. "You are why he went away, I suppose."

"At any rate, he is gone."

"Did you ever have a lover, Prudence? A real lover, I mean."

"No, I, never did."

"I'm awfully glad of that. I'll----"

"Prudence, do you use half milk and half water for creamed tomato soup, or all milk?"

"What?--Oh!--All milk, Connie, and tell Fairy not to salt it until it is entirely done, or it may curdle."

"What in the world would they ever do without you, Prudence? You are the soul of the parsonage, aren't you?"

"No, I am just the cook and the chambermaid," she answered, laughing. "But don't you see how hard it will be for me to go away?"

"But it isn't fair! Vacation is coming now, and Fairy ought to take a turn. What will they do when you get married?"

"I have always said I would not get married."

"But don't you want to get married,--some time?"

"Oh, that isn't it. I just can't because I must take care of the parsonage, and raise the girls. I can't."

"But you will," he whispered, and his hand touched hers for just a second. Prudence did not answer. She lifted her eyes to his face, and caught in her breath once more.

A little later he said, "Do you mind if I go upstairs and talk to your father a few minutes? Maybe I'd better."

"But do not stay very long," she urged, and she wondered why the brightness and sunshine vanished from the room when he went out. "First door to the right," she called after him.

Mr. Starr arose to greet him, and welcomed him to his combination study and bedroom with great friendliness. But Jerrold went straight to the point.

"Mr. Starr, it's very kind of you to receive a perfect stranger as you have me. But I understand that with a girl like Prudence, you will want to be careful. I can give you the names of several prominent men in Des Moines, Christians, who know me well, and can tell you all about me."

"It isn't necessary. We are parsonage people, and we are accustomed to receiving men and women as worthy of our trust, until we find them different. We are glad to count you among our friends."

"Thank you, but--you see, Mr. Starr, this is a little different. Some day, Prudence and I will want to be married, and you will wish to be sure about me."

"Does Prudence know about that?"

"No," with a smile, "we haven't got that far yet. But I am sure she feels it. She hasn't--well, you know what I mean. She has been asleep, but I believe she is waking up now."

"Yes, I think so. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"No, indeed. Anything you like."

"Well, first, are you a Christian?"

"Not the kind you are, Mr. Starr. My parents were Christians, but I've never thought much about it myself because I was young and full of fun. I have never been especially directed to religion. I go to church, and I believe the Bible,--though I don't know much about it. I seldom read it. But I'll get busy now, if you like, and really study it and--try to come around your way. I know Prudence would make me do that." And he smiled again.

"Do you drink?"

"I did a little, but I promised Prudence this morning I would quit it. I never got--drunk, and I have not formed the habit. But sometimes with the boys, I drink a little. But I do not care for it, and I swore off this morning.--I smoke, too,--not cigarettes, of course. Prudence knows it, but she did not make me promise to quit that?" His voice was raised, inquiringly.

"Would you have promised, if she had asked it?" This was sheer curiosity.

"I suppose I would." He flushed a little. "I know I was pretty hard hit, and it was such a new experience that I would have promised anything she asked. But I like smoking, and--I don't think it is wicked."

"Never mind the smoking. I only asked that question out of curiosity. We're not as strait-laced as we might be perhaps. The only things I would really object to, are those things that might seriously menace your happiness, yours and hers, if the time does come. But the next question,--can you pass a strict physical examination?"

"Yes, I can. I'll go with you to your physician to-night if you like. I'm all right physically, I know."

"Tell me about your relations with your mother when she was living."

"She has been dead four years." Jerrold spoke with some emotion. "We were great chums, though her health was always poor. I wrote her three times a week when I was away from home, and she wrote me a note every day. When I was in school, I spent all my vacations at home to be with her. And I never went abroad until after her death because she did not like the idea of my going so far from her."

"Jerrold, my boy, I do not want to seem too severe, but--tell me, has there been anything in your life, about women, that could come out and hurt Prudence later on?"

Jerrold hesitated. "Mr. Starr, I have been young, and headstrong, and impulsive. I have done some things I wish now I hadn't. But I believe there is nothing that I could not explain to Prudence so she would understand. If I had thought beforehand of a girl like her, there are things I would not have done. But there is nothing, I think, that would really hurt, after I had a chance to talk it over with her."

"All right. If you are the man, God bless you. I don't suppose you are worthy of Prudence, for she is a good, pure-hearted, unselfish girl,--there could be none better. But the real point is just whether you will love each other enough!--I like your coming up here like this. I think that was very decent and manly of you. And, do you mind if I just suggest that you go a little slow with Prudence? Remember that she has been sound asleep, until this morning. I do not want her awakened too rudely."

"Neither do I," said Jerrold quickly. "Shall I go down now? The girls have invited me to stay for supper, and Prudence says I am to come back to-morrow, too. Is that all right? Remember, I'll be going home on Monday!"

"It is all right, certainly. Spend as much time here as you like. You will either get worse, or get cured, and--whichever it is, you've got to have a chance. I like you, Jerrold. Prudence judges by instinct, but it does not often fail her."

Prudence heard him running down the stairs boyishly, and when he came in, before she could speak, he whispered, "Shut your eyes tight, Prudence. And do not scold me, for I can't help it." Then he put his hands over hers, and kissed her on the lips. They were both breathless after that. Prudence lifted her lashes slowly, and gazed at him seriously. It was she who spoke first.

"I was never really kissed before," she whispered, "not really."

Then they sat in silence until Fairy announced that supper was ready. "But I won't promise it is eatable," she assured them, laughing.

"I wish I could go to the table, too," said Prudence, looking at her father wistfully, "I could lie on the old lounge out there."

"And have your supper on a tray, of course. Can you carry her, father?"

"I can!" volunteered Jerrold promptly. "I have done it."

"I think between us we can manage. We'll try it." And Prudence heroically endured the pain of being moved, for the sake of seeing Jerrold at the table with her parsonage family. For to her surprise, she realized that she could not bear that even a few minutes should pass, when she could not see the manly young face with the boyish mouth and the tender eyes!

Prudence, at last, was aroused from her slumber.