“You might forget, and put them in these pockets,—­it’s a kind of habit with you, I suppose.  And just plain washing won’t take the idea of bugs off your hands.”

“Prudence, you are only a girl,—­a childish girl, but a very sweet one.  I want you to like me.  When you grow up, you are going to be a wonderfully good and lovely woman.  I—­I am going to want you then.  I know it.  Let’s just be friends now, can’t we—­until later—­for a long time yet?  I’ll promise on my word of honor never to put another bug in my pockets, or my handkerchiefs.  But I can’t promise not to touch them, for I have to do it in class.  That’s how I earn my living!  But I will wash my hands with Ivory soap and sapolio, and rub them with cold cream, and powder them, and perfume them, before I ever come near you again.  Won’t that do?”

Prudence shook her head.  “I know you are laughing at me,” she said, “but I always told you I was just a silly simpleton.  And—­it isn’t the bugs altogether.  I—­I like it better to be with my sisters than——­”

“Than with me?  I see.  As I said, the woman of you is still sleeping.  Well, we are young, and I will wait.  I won’t bother you any more for a long time, Prudence, but I shan’t forget you.  And some day I will come back to you again.”  He stared at her moodily.  Then he put his hands beneath her elbows, and looked into her eyes searchingly.  “You are a strange girl, Prudence.  In some ways, you are so womanly, and in other ways so—­pitifully girlish!  All the woman in your heart seems to be given to your sisters and your father, and—­ But you will waken, and I won’t hurry you.”  Then he put his arms around her again, and whispered in her ear, “But I love you, Prudence, and—­if some one else should do the awakening—­it would hurt!” Then he kissed her, and went away.

But Prudence ran up-stairs, singing happily.  “Oh, I feel like a caged-up bird that has broken loose,” she cried to her reflection in the mirror jubilantly.  “Oh, what fun it will be to come home from church with Fairy and the twins, the way I used to do!”

CHAPTER VII

LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE

Connie was lying flat on her back near the register.  The twins were sitting on the floor near her, hearing each other conjugate Latin verbs.  And Prudence, with her darning basket, was earnestly trying to solve a domestic problem,—­how to get three pairs of wearable stockings out of eleven hosiery remnants.  So Fairy found them as she came in, radiant and glowing.

“Glorious day,” she said, glancing impartially at her sisters.  “Just glorious!  Why are you all hugging the register, may I ask?  It is perfect weather.  Connie, you should be out-of-doors this minute, by all means.  Twins, aren’t you grown-up enough to sit on chairs, or won’t your footies reach the floor?—­Babbie, Eugene Babler, you know, is coming to spend the evening, Prudence.”