Fairy shoved her chair back from the machine, and ran to the window.
"Look, Prue," she cried. "Isn't that Mrs. Adams coming this way? I
wonder----"

"No, it isn't," answered Connie gravely. "It's just Miss Avery getting
home from school.--Isn't it, Prudence? Father's coat, I mean?"

"Yes, Connie, it is," said Prudence, very, very gently. "But no one
here has seen it, and it is such nice cloth,--just exactly what girls
are wearing now."

"But I wanted a new coat!" Connie did not cry. She stood looking at
Prudence with her wide hurt eyes.

"Oh, Connie, I'm just as sorry as you are," cried Prudence, with
starting tears. "I know just how you feel about it, dearest. But the
people didn't pay father up last month, and nothing has come in for
this month yet, and we've had so much extra expense.--I will have to
wear my old shoes, too, Connie, and you know how they look! The
shoemaker says they aren't worth fixing, so I must wear them as they
are.--But maybe after Christmas we can get you a coat. They pay up
better then."

"I think I'd rather wear my summer coat until then," said Connie
soberly.

"Oh, but you can't, dearest. It is too cold. Won't you be a good girl
now, and not make sister feel badly about it? It really is becoming to
you, and it is nice and warm. You know parsonage people just have to
practise economy, Connie,--it can't be helped. Take some more fudge,