out
it, and after the conversations you and I have had, I think I have a
right to know what has happened."

"Does she miss me? Does she seem sorry that I am away? Does----" His
voice was so boyish and so eager there was no mistaking his attitude
toward Prudence.

"Look here, Jerry, I want to know. Why are you staying away?"

"Won't Prudence tell you?"

"No."

"Then I can not. She made me promise not to tell you a word. But it
is not my fault, Mr. Starr. I can tell you that. It is nothing I have
done or said. She sent me away because she thinks it was right for her
to do so, and--you know Prudence! It is wrong, I know. I knew it all
the time. But I couldn't make her see it. And she made me promise not
to tell."

In the end Mr. Starr went back to the parsonage no wiser than he left,
save that he now knew that Jerry was really not to blame, and that he
held himself ready to return to her on a moment's notice.

The Ladies of the Methodist church were puzzled and exasperated. They
went to the parsonage, determined to "find out what's what." But when
they sat with Prudence, and looked at the frail, pathetic little
figure, with the mournful eyes,---they could only sigh with her and go
their ways.

The twins continued to play in the great maple, even when the leaves
were fallen, "It's a dandy place, I tell you, Prudence," cried Carol.
"Jerry didn't have time to put up the rope before Connie pulled him
down, but we've fixed it ourselves, and it is simply grand. You can go
up and swing any time you like,--unless your joints are too stiff!
It's a very serious matter getting up there,---for stiff joints, of
course, I mean. Lark and I get up easy enough."

For a moment, Prudence sat silent with quivering lips. Then she burst
out with unusual passion, "Don't you ever dare climb up in that tree
again as long as you live, twins! Mind what I say!"

Lark looked thoughtfully out of the window, and Carol swallowed hard.
It was she who said gently, "Why, of course, Prue,--just as you say."

For the first time, Prudence had dealt with them harshly and unfairly.
They knew it. There was neither sense nor justice in her command. But
they did not argue the point. They kept their eyes considerately away
from her, and buried themselves in _Julius Caesar_,--it must be
remembered the twins are sophomores now. Five minutes later Prudence
spoke again, humbly.

"I beg you pardon, twins,--that was a perfectly idiot