Part 7 (1/2)

”Oh, Larkie!”

This was a prolonged wail.

”It's all right, Prue, honestly it is,” urged Lark with pathetic solemnity. ”We didn't do it for a joke. We're keeping him for a good purpose. Connie found him in the garden,--and--Carol said we ought to keep him for Professor Duke,--he asked us to bring him things to cut up in science, you remember. So we just shoved him into this shoe box, and--we thought we'd keep him in the bath-tub until morning. We did it for a good purpose, don't you see we did? Oh, Prudence!”

Prudence was horribly outraged, but even in that critical moment, justice insisted that Lark's arguments were sound. The professor had certainly asked the scholars to bring him ”things to cut up.” But a toad! A live one!--And the Ladies' Aid! Prudence s.h.i.+vered.

”I am sure you meant well, Larkie,” she said in a low voice, striving hard to keep down the bitter resentment in her heart, ”I know you did.

But you should not have brought that--that thing--into the house. Pick him up at once, and take him out-of-doors and let him go.”

But this was not readily done. In spite of her shame and deep dismay, Lark refused to touch the toad with her fingers.

”I can't touch him, Prudence,--I simply can't,” she whimpered. ”We shoved him in with the broom handle before.”

And as no one else was willing to touch it, and as the Ladies cl.u.s.tered together in confusion, and with much laughter, in the far corner of the other room, Prudence brought the broom and the not unwilling toad was helped to other quarters.

”Now go,” said Prudence quickly, and Lark was swift to avail herself of the permission.

Followed a quiet hour, and then the Ladies put aside their sewing and walked about the room, chatting in little groups. With a significant glance to Fairy, Prudence walked calmly to the double doors between the dining-room and the sitting-room. The eyes of the Ladies followed her with interest and even enthusiasm. They were hungry. Prudence slowly opened wide the doors, and--stood amazed! The Ladies cl.u.s.tered about her, and stood amazed also. The dining-room was there, and the table!

But the appearance of the place was vastly different! The snowy cloth was draped artistically over a picture on the wall, the lowest edges well above the floor. The plates and trays, napkin-covered, were safely stowed away on the floor in distant corners. The kitchen scrub bucket had been brought in and turned upside down, to afford a fitting resting place for the borrowed punch bowl, full to overflowing with fragrant lemonade.

And at the table were three dirty, disheveled little figures, bending seriously over piles of mud. A not-unrecognizable Venus de Milo occupied the center of the table. Connie was painstakingly at work on some animal, a dog perhaps, or possibly an elephant. And----

The three young modelers looked up in exclamatory consternation as the doors opened.

”Oh, are you ready?” cried Carol. ”How the time has flown! We had no idea you'd be ready so soon. Oh, we are sorry, Prudence. We intended to have everything fixed properly for you again. We needed a flat place for our modeling. It's a shame, that's what it is. Isn't that a handsome Venus? I did that!--If you'll just shut the door one minute, Prudence, we'll have everything exactly as you left it. And we're as sorry as we can be. You can have my Venus for a centerpiece, if you like.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”If you'll just shut the door one minute, Prudence, we'll have everything exactly as you left it.”]

Prudence silently closed the doors, and the Ladies, laughing significantly, drew away.

”Don't you think, my dear,” began Mrs. Prentiss too sweetly, ”that they are a little more than you can manage? Don't you really think an older woman is needed?”

”I do not think so,” cried Fairy, before her sister could speak, ”no older woman could be kinder, or sweeter, or more patient and helpful than Prue.”

”Undoubtedly true! But something more is needed, I am afraid! It appears that girls are a little more disorderly than in my own young days! Perhaps I do not judge advisedly, but it seems to me they are a little--unmanageable.”

”Indeed they are not,” cried Prudence loyally. ”They are young, lively, mischievous, I know,--and I am glad of it. But I have lived with them ever since they were born, and I ought to know them. They are unselfish, they are sympathetic, they are always generous. They do foolish and irritating things,--but never things that are hateful and mean. They are all right at heart, and that is all that counts. They are not bad girls! What have they done to-day? They were exasperating, and humiliating, too, but what did they do that was really mean? They embarra.s.sed and mortified me, but not intentionally!

I can't punish them for the effect on me, you know! Would that be just or fair? At heart, they meant no harm.”

It must be confessed that there were many serious faces among the Ladies. Some cheeks were flushed, some eyes were downcast, some lips were compressed and some were trembling. Every mother there was asking in her heart, ”Did I punish my children just for the effect on me? Did I judge my children by what was in their hearts, or just by the trouble they made me?”

And the silence lasted so long that it became awkward. Finally Mrs.

Prentiss crossed the room and stood by Prudence's side. She laid a hand tenderly on the young girl's arm, and said in a voice that was slightly tremulous:

”I believe you are right, my dear. It is what girls are at heart that really counts. I believe your sisters are all you say they are. And one thing I am very sure of,--they are happy girls to have a sister so patient, and loving, and just. Not all real mothers have as much to their credit!”