I love it. Sometime will you let me ride your wheel?"

"Why, certainly. You may ride now if you like."

"No," said Prudence slowly, "I am afraid it would not do for me to ride
now. Some of the members might see me, and--well, I am very grown up,
you know.--Of course," she added hastily, "it is different with you. You
ride for business, but it would be nothing but a frolic with me. I want
to get up at six o'clock and go early in the morning when the world is
fast asleep. Let me take it to-morrow morning, will you? It is
Saturday, and you won't be going to school."

"Yes, of course you may," was the hearty answer. "You may stay out as
long as you like. I'm going to sew to-morrow. You make take it in the
parsonage now and keep it until morning. I always sleep late on
Saturdays."

So Prudence delightedly tripped up the parsonage board walk, wheeling the
bicycle by her side. She hid it carefully in the woodshed, for the twins
were rash and venturesome. But after she had gone to bed, she confided
her plan to Fairy.

"I'm going at six o'clock, and I'll be back in time to get breakfast.
But as you know, Fairy, my plans do not always work out as I intend, so
if I am a little late, you'll get breakfast for papa and the girls, like
a dear, won't you?"

Fairy promised. And early the next morning, Prudence, in a plain gingham
house dress, with the addition of a red sweater jacket and cap for
warmth, set out upon her secret ride. It was a magnificent morning, and