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