“Must you prepare meat for breading half an hour before cooking, or when?” demanded Fairy, from the dining-room door.

“What?—­Oh!—­Fifteen minutes before.  Don’t forget to salt and pepper the crumbs, Fairy.”

“Perhaps some time your father will let you and a couple of the others come to Des Moines with me in the car.  You would enjoy a few days there, I know.  I live with my aunt, a dear, motherly little old soul.  She will adore you, Prudence, and you will like her, too.  Would your father let you spend a week?  We can easily drive back and forth in the car.”

“Maybe he will,—­but who will keep the parsonage while I am away?”

“Fairy, to be sure.  She must be a good fairy once in a while.  We can take the twins with us, Connie, too, if you like, and then Fairy will only have to mother your father.  Do you like riding in a car?”

“Oh, I love it.  But I have not ridden very much.  Willard Morley took me quite often when he was here, but he is in Chicago now.”

“When’s he coming back?” suspiciously.

“Prudence, shall we have tea or coffee?” This was Lark from the doorway.  “Fairy wants to know.”

“What?—­Oh!—­Which do you want, Jerry?”

“Which does your father prefer?”

“He doesn’t drink either except for breakfast.”

“I generally drink coffee, but I do not care much for it, so do not bother——­”

“Coffee, Lark.”

“When’s that Morley chap coming back?”

“I do not know.”  And then, “He is never coming back as far as I am concerned.”

Jerrold relented promptly.  “You are why he went away, I suppose.”

“At any rate, he is gone.”

“Did you ever have a lover, Prudence?  A real lover, I mean.”

“No, I, never did.”

“I’m awfully glad of that.  I’ll——­”

“Prudence, do you use half milk and half water for creamed tomato soup, or all milk?”

“What?—­Oh!—­All milk, Connie, and tell Fairy not to salt it until it is entirely done, or it may curdle.”

“What in the world would they ever do without you, Prudence?  You are the soul of the parsonage, aren’t you?”

“No, I am just the cook and the chambermaid,” she answered, laughing.  “But don’t you see how hard it will be for me to go away?”

“But it isn’t fair!  Vacation is coming now, and Fairy ought to take a turn.  What will they do when you get married?”

“I have always said I would not get married.”

“But don’t you want to get married,—­some time?”

“Oh, that isn’t it.  I just can’t because I must take care of the parsonage, and raise the girls.  I can’t.”

“But you will,” he whispered, and his hand touched hers for just a second.  Prudence did not answer.  She lifted her eyes to his face, and caught in her breath once more.

A little later he said, “Do you mind if I go upstairs and talk to your father a few minutes?  Maybe I’d better.”