When Connie had gone back to school, Prudence went straight to Mr. Harold’s bank.  Flushed and embarrassed, she explained the situation frankly.  “My sympathies are all with Connie,” she said candidly.  “But I am afraid father would not like it.  We are dead set against borrowing.  After—­our mother was taken, we were crowded pretty close for money.  So we had to go in debt.  It took us two years to get it paid.  Father and Fairy and I talked it over then, and decided we would starve rather than borrow again.  Even the twins understood it, but Connie was too little.  She doesn’t know how heartbreaking it is to keep handing over every cent for debt, when one is just yearning for other things.—­I do wish she might have the coat, but I’m afraid father would not like it.  She gave me the five dollars for safekeeping, and I have brought it back.”

Mr. Harold shook his head.  “No, Connie must have her coat.  This will be a good lesson for her.  It will teach her the bitterness of living under debt!  Besides, Prudence, I think in my heart that she is right this time.  This is a case where borrowing is justified.  Get her the coat, and I’ll square the account with your father.”  Then he added, “And I’ll look after this salary business myself after this.  I’ll arrange with the trustees that I am to pay your father his full salary the first of every month, and that the church receipts are to be turned in to me.  And if they do not pay up, my lawyer can do a little investigating!  Little Connie earned that five dollars, for she taught one trustee a sorry lesson.  And he will have to pass it on to the others in self-defense!  Now, run along and get the coat, and if five dollars isn’t enough you can have as much more as you need.  Your father will get his salary after this, my dear, if we have to mortgage the parsonage!”

CHAPTER X

A BURGLAR’S VISIT

“Prue!”

A small hand gripped Prudence’s shoulder, and again came a hoarsely whispered: 

“Prue!”

Prudence sat up in bed with a bounce.

“What in the world?” she began, gazing out into the room, half-lighted by the moonshine, and seeing Carol and Lark shivering beside her bed.

“Sh!  Sh!  Hush!” whispered Lark.  “There’s a burglar in our room!”

By this time, even sound-sleeping Fairy was awake.  “Oh, there is!” she scoffed.

“Yes, there is,” declared Carol with some heat.  “We heard him, plain as day.  He stepped into the closet, didn’t he, Lark?”

“He certainly did,” agreed Lark.

“Did you see him?”

“No, we heard him.  Carol heard him first, and she spoke, and nudged me.  Then I heard him, too.  He was at our dresser, but he shot across the room and into the closet.  He closed the door after him.  He’s there now.”

“You’ve been dreaming,” said Fairy, lying down again.