judgment came to her rescue, and she smiled at Prudence with her old
serenity.

The meeting progressed, and the business was presently disposed of. So
far, things were not too seriously bad, and Prudence sighed in great
relief. Then the Ladies took out their sewing, and began industriously
working at many unmentionable articles, designed for the intimate
clothing of a lot of young Methodists confined in an orphans' home in
Chicago. And they talked together pleasantly and gaily. And Prudence
and Fairy felt that the cloud was lifted.

But soon it settled again, dark and lowering. Prudence heard Lark
running through the hall and her soul misgave her. Why was Lark going
upstairs? What was her errand? And she remembered the wraps of the
Ladies, up-stairs, alone and unprotected. Dare she trust Lark in such
a crisis? Perhaps the very sight of Prudence and the Ladies' Aid would
arouse her better nature, and prevent catastrophe. To be sure, her
mission might be innocent, but Prudence dared not run the risk.
Fortunately she was sitting near the door.

"Lark!" she called softly. Lark stopped abruptly, and something fell
to the floor.

"Lark!"

There was a muttered exclamation from without, and Lark began fumbling
rapidly around on the floor talking incoherently to herself.

"Lark!"