Part 38 (1/2)
”No,--this is Sat.u.r.day.”
”Oh, of course. Well, bring them up, I want to see them.”
Just then the distant whistle of a locomotive sounded through the open window, but she did not notice her father's sudden start. She nodded up at him again, and repeated, ”I want to see my girls.”
Her father sent them up to her at once, and they stood at the foot of the bed with sorry faces, and smiled at her.
”Say something,” whispered Carol, kicking Lark suggestively on the foot. But Lark was dumb. It was Carol who broke the silence.
”Oh, Prudence, do you suppose the doctors will let me come in and watch them bandage your head? I want to begin practising up, so as to be ready for the next war.”
Then they laughed, and the girls realized that Prudence was really alive and quite as always. They told her of Connie's sad experience, and Prudence comforted her sweetly.
”It just proves all over again,” she declared, smiling, but with a sigh close following, ”that you can't get along without me to look after you. Would I ever go to bed without making sure that Connie was safe and sound?”
Down-stairs, meanwhile, Mr. Starr was plotting with Fairy, a willing a.s.sistant.
”He'll surely be in on this train, and you must keep him down here until I get through with Prudence. I want to tell her a few things before she sees him. Bring him in quietly, and don't let him speak loudly. I do not want her to know he is on hand for a few minutes.
Explain it to the girls, will you?”
After sending the younger girls down-stairs again, he closed the door of Prudence's room, and sat down beside her.
”Prudence, I can't tell you how bitterly disappointed I am in you.”
”Father!”
”Yes, I thought you loved us,--the girls and me. It never occurred to me that you considered us a bunch of selfish, heartless, ungrateful animals!”
”Father!”
”Is that your idea of love? Is that----”
”Oh, father!”
”It really did hurt me, Prudence. My dear little girl, how could you send Jerry away, breaking your heart and his, and ours, too,--just because you thought us such a selfish lot that we would begrudge you any happiness of your own? Don't you think our love for you is big enough to make us happy in seeing you happy? You used to say you would never marry. We did not expect you to marry, then. But we knew the time would come when marriage would seem beautiful and desirable to you. We were waiting for that time. We were hoping for it. We were happy when you loved Jerry, because we knew he was good and kind and loving, and that he could give you all the beautiful things of life--that I can never give my children. But you thought we were too selfish to let you go, and you sent him away.”