Prue stood in the doorway calling out “goodbye” as they went down the path to the gate, Miss Prudence’s “old man” had been there early to sweep off the piazzas and shovel paths; he was one of her beneficiaries with a history.  Marjorie said they all had histories:  she believed he had lost some money in a bank years ago, some that he had hoarded by day labor around the wharves.

The pavements in this northern city were covered with snow hard packed, the light snow of last night had frozen and the sidewalks were slippery; in the city the children were as delighted to see the brick pavement in spring as the country children were glad to see the green grass.

“Whew”! ejaculated Morris, as the wind blew sharp in their faces, “this is a stiff north-wester and no mistake.  I don’t believe that small Californian would enjoy walking to school to-day.”

“I think that must be why Aunt Prue keeps her at home; I suppose she wants to teach her to obey without a reason, and so she does not give her one.”

“That isn’t a bad thing for any of us,” said Morris.

“She has bought her the prettiest winter suit!  She is so warm and lovely in it—­and a set of white furs; she is a bluebird with a golden crest.  After she was dressed the first time Miss Prudence looked down at her and said, as if excusing the expense to herself:  ’But I must keep the child warm—­and it is my own money.’  I think her father died poor.”

“I’m glad of it,” said Morris.

“Why?” asked Marjorie, wonderingly.

“Miss Prudence and Mr. Holmes will take care of her; she doesn’t need money,” he answered, evasively.  “I wouldn’t like Prue to be a rich woman in this city.”

“Isn’t it a good city to be a rich woman in?” questioned Marjorie with a laugh.  “As good as any other.”

“Not for everybody; do you know I wonder why Miss Prudence doesn’t live in New York as she did when she sent Linnet to school.”

“She wanted to be home, she said; she was tired of boarding, and she liked Master McCosh’s school for me.  I think she will like it for Prue.  I’m so glad she will have Prue when I have to go back home.  Mr. Holmes isn’t rich, is he?  You said he would take care of Prue.”

“He has a very small income from his mother; his mother was not Prue’s father’s mother.”

“Why, do you know all about them?”

“Yes.”

“Who told you?  Aunt Prue hasn’t told me.”

“Mother knows.  She knew Prue’s father.  I suspect some of the girls’ fathers in your school knew him, too.”

“I don’t know.  He was rich once—­here—­I know that.  Deborah told me where he used to live; it’s a handsome house, with handsome grounds, a stable in the rear and an iron fence in front.”

“I’ve seen it,” said Morris, in his concisest tone.  “Mr. Holmes and I walked past one day.  Mayor Parks lives there now.”

“Clarissa Parks’ father!” cried Marjorie, in an enlightened tone.  “She’s in our first class, and if she studied she would learn something.  She’s bright, but she hasn’t motive enough.”