"Oh, that isn't it. I just can't because I must take care of the parsonage, and raise the girls. I can't."
"But you will," he whispered, and his hand touched hers for just a second. Prudence did not answer. She lifted her eyes to his face, and caught in her breath once more.
A little later he said, "Do you mind if I go upstairs and talk to your father a few minutes? Maybe I'd better."
"But do not stay very long," she urged, and she wondered why the brightness and sunshine vanished from the room when he went out. "First door to the right," she called after him.
Mr. Starr arose to greet him, and welcomed him to his combination study and bedroom with great friendliness. But Jerrold went straight to the point.
"Mr. Starr, it's very kind of you to receive a perfect stranger as you have me. But I understand that with a girl like Prudence, you will want to be careful. I can give you the names of several prominent men in Des Moines, Christians, who know me well, and can tell you all about me."
"It isn't necessary. We are parsonage people, and we are accustomed to receiving men and women as worthy of our trust, until we find them different. We are glad to count you among our friends."
"Thank you, but—you see, Mr. Starr, this is a little different. Some day, Prudence and I will want to be married, and you will wish to be sure about me."
"Does Prudence know about that?"
"No," with a smile, "we haven't got that far yet. But I am sure she feels it. She hasn't—well, you know what I mean. She has been asleep, but I believe she is waking up now."