Prudence of the Parsonage | Page 7

blue
then. But I was not wanting a dark blue, and I thought it would be less
recognizable if I gave it a contrasting color. I chose lavender. I dyed it
four times, and this was the result."
"Do the twins dress alike?" inquired Mrs. Adams, when she could
control her voice.
"Yes,--unfortunately for Connie. They do it on purpose to escape the
handed-downs! They won't even have hair ribbons different. And the
result is that poor Connie never gets one new thing except shoes. She
says she can not help thanking the Lord in her prayers, that all of us
outwear our shoes before we can outgrow them.--Connie is only nine.
Fairy is sixteen, and the twins are thirteen. They are a very clever lot of
girls. Fairy, as I told you, is just naturally smart, and aims to be a
college professor. Lark is an intelligent studious girl, and is going to be
an author. Carol is pretty, and lovable, and kind-hearted, and
witty,--but not deep. She is going to be a Red Cross nurse and go to
war. The twins have it all planned out. Carol is going to war as a Red
Cross nurse, and Lark is going, too, so she can write a book about it,
and they are both going to marry soldiers,--preferably dashing young
generals! Now they can hardly wait for war to break out. Connie is a
sober, odd, sensitive little thing, and hasn't decided whether she wants
to be a foreign missionary, or get married and have ten children.--But
they are all clever, and I'm proud of every one of them."
"And what are you going to be?" inquired Mrs. Adams, looking with
real affection at the bright sweet face.
But Prudence laughed. "Oh, dear me, Mrs. Adams, seems to me if I just
get the others raised up properly, I'll have my hands full. I used to have
aims, dozens of them. Now I have just one, and I'm working at it every
day."

"You ought to go to school," declared Mrs. Adams. "You're just a girl
yourself."
"I don't want to go to school," laughed Prudence. "Not any more. I like
it, just taking care of father and the girls,--with Fairy to keep me
balanced! I read, but I do not like to study.--No, you'll have to get along
with me just the way I am, Mrs. Adams. It's all I can do to keep things
going now, without spending half the time dreaming of big things to do
in the future."
"Don't you have dreams?" gasped Mrs. Adams. "Don't you have
dreams of the future? Girls in books nowadays dream----"
"Yes, I dream," interrupted Prudence, "I dream lots,--but it's mostly of
what Fairy and the others will do when I get them properly raised.
You'll like the girls, Mrs. Adams, I know you will. They really are a
gifted little bunch,--except me. But I don't mind. It's a great honor for
me to have the privilege of bringing up four clever girls to do great
things,--don't you think? And I'm only nineteen myself! I don't see
what more a body could want."
"It seems to me," said Mrs. Adams, "that I know more about your
sisters than I do about you. I feel more acquainted with them right now,
than with you."
"That's so, too," said Prudence, nodding. "But they are the ones that
really count, you know. I'm just common little Prudence of the
Parsonage,--but the others!" And Prudence flung out her hands
dramatically.
CHAPTER II
THE REST OF THE FAMILY
It was Saturday morning when the four young parsonage girls arrived
in Mount Mark. The elderly Misses Avery, next door, looked out of
their windows, pending their appearance on Main Street, with interest
and concern. It was a serious matter, this having a whole parsonage-full

of young girls so close to the old Avery mansion. To be sure, the
Averys had a deep and profound respect for ministerial households, but
they were Episcopalians themselves, and in all their long lives they had
never so much as heard of a widower-rector with five daughters, and no
housekeeper. There was something blood-curdling in the bare idea.
The Misses Avery considered Prudence herself rather a sweet, silly
little thing.
"You have some real nice people in the Methodist church," Miss Dora
had told her. "I dare say you will find a few of them very likeable."
"Oh, I will like them all," said Prudence quickly and seriously.
"Like them all!" echoed Miss Dora. "Oh, impossible!"
"Not for us," said Prudence. "We are used to it, you know. We always
like people."
"That is ridiculous," said Miss Dora. "It is absolutely impossible. One
can't! Of course, as Christians, we must tolerate, and try to help every
one. But Christian tolerance and love