"Yes, of course.--When is he coming back?"

"He isn't coming back. Please hurry, Fairy, and then call the others.
The oatmeal is ready."

Fairy went soberly down cellar, and brought up the golden sirup. Then,
ostensibly to call her sisters, she hurried up the stairs.

"Girls," she began, carefully closing the door of their room behind
her. "Jerry has gone, and isn't coming back any more. And for
goodness' sake, don't keep asking questions about it. Just eat your
breakfast as usual, and have a little tact."

"Gone!"

"Yes."

"A lovers' quarrel," suggested Lark, and her eyes glittered greedily.

"Nothing of the sort. And don't keep staring at Prue, either. And do
not keep talking about Jerry all the time. You mind me, or I will tell
papa."

"That's funny," said Carol thoughtfully. "We left them kissing each
other like mad in the back yard last night,--and this morning he has
gone to return no more. They are crazy."

"Kissing! In the back yard! What are you talking about?"

Carol explained, and Fairy looked still more thoughtful and perturbed.

She opened the door, and called out to them in a loud and breezy voice,
"Hurry, girls, for breakfast is ready, and there's no time to waste in
a parsonage on Sunday morning." Then she added in a whisper, "And
don't you mention Jerry, and don't ask Prudence what makes her so pale,
or you'll catch it!"

Then she went to her father's door. "Breakfast is ready, papa," she
called clearly. She turned the knob softly, and peeped in. "May I
come in a minute?" Standing close beside him, she told him all she
knew of what had happened.

"Prudence is ghastly, father, just ghastly. And she can't talk about
it yet, so be careful what you say, will you?"

And it was due to Fairy's kindly admonitions that the parsonage family
took the departure of Jerry so calmly.

"Fairy says Jerry took the morning train," said Mr. Starr, as they were
passing the cream and sugar for the oatmeal. "That is too bad! But it
is just the worst of being a business man,--one never knows when one
must be up and away. And of course, one can not neglect business
interests.--The oatmeal is unusually good this morning, Prudence."
This was nothing short of heroic on his part, for her eyes upon her
father's face were so wide and dark that the lump in his throat would
not stay down.

That was the beginning of Prudence's bitter winter, when the brightest
sunshine was cheerless and dreary,