The meeting progressed, and the business was presently disposed of.  So far, things were not too seriously bad, and Prudence sighed in great relief.  Then the Ladies took out their sewing, and began industriously working at many unmentionable articles, designed for the intimate clothing of a lot of young Methodists confined in an orphans’ home in Chicago.  And they talked together pleasantly and gaily.  And Prudence and Fairy felt that the cloud was lifted.

But soon it settled again, dark and lowering.  Prudence heard Lark running through the hall and her soul misgave her.  Why was Lark going upstairs?  What was her errand?  And she remembered the wraps of the Ladies, up-stairs, alone and unprotected.  Dare she trust Lark in such a crisis?  Perhaps the very sight of Prudence and the Ladies’ Aid would arouse her better nature, and prevent catastrophe.  To be sure, her mission might be innocent, but Prudence dared not run the risk.  Fortunately she was sitting near the door.

“Lark!” she called softly.  Lark stopped abruptly, and something fell to the floor.

“Lark!”

There was a muttered exclamation from without, and Lark began fumbling rapidly around on the floor talking incoherently to herself.

“Lark!”

The Ladies smiled, and Miss Carr, laughing lightly, said, “She is an attentive creature, isn’t she?”

Prudence would gladly have flown out into the hall to settle this matter, but she realized that she was on exhibition.  Had she done so, the Ladies would have set her down forever after as thoroughly incompetent,—­she could not go!  But Lark must come to her.

“Lark!” This was Prudence’s most awful voice, and Lark was bound to heed.

“Oh, Prue,” she said plaintively, “I’ll be there in a minute.  Can’t you wait just five minutes?  Let me run up-stairs first, won’t you?  Then I’ll come gladly!  Won’t that do?”

Her voice was hopeful.  But Prudence replied with dangerous calm: 

“Come at once, Lark.”

“All right, then,” and added threateningly, “but you’ll wish I hadn’t.”

Then Lark opened the door,—­a woeful figure!  In one hand she carried an empty shoe box.  And her face was streaked with good rich Iowa mud.  Her clothes were plastered with it.  One shoe was caked from the sole to the very top button, and a great gash in her stocking revealed a generous portion of round white leg.

Poor Prudence!  At that moment, she would have exchanged the whole parsonage, bathroom, electric lights and all, for a tiny log cabin in the heart of a great forest where she and Lark might be alone together.

And Fairy laughed.  Prudence looked at her with tears in her eyes, and then turned to the wretched girl.

“What have you been doing, Lark?”