"Carol! That sounds malicious, and malice isn't tolerated here for a minute. Now,—oh, Fairy, did you remember to dust the back of the dresser in our bedroom?"

"Mercy! What in the world do you want the back of the dresser dusted for? Do you expect the Ladies to look right through it?"

"No, but some one might drop something behind it, and it would have to be pulled out and they would all see it. This house has got to be absolutely spotless for once,—I am sure it will be the first time."

"And the last, I hope," added Carol sepulchrally.

"We have an hour and a half yet," continued Prudence. "That will give us plenty of time for the last touches. Twins and Connie, you'd better go right out in the field and play. I'll call you a little before two, and then you must go quietly upstairs, and dress—just wear your plain little ginghams, the clean ones of course! Then if they do catch a glimpse of you, you will be presentable.—Yes, you can take some bread and sugar, but hurry."

"You may take," said Fairy.

"Yes, of course, may take is what I mean.—Now hurry."

Then Prudence and Fairy set to work again in good earnest. The house was already well cleaned. The sandwiches were made. But there were the last "rites," and every detail must be religiously attended to.

It must be remembered that the three main down-stairs rooms of the parsonage were connected by double doors,—double doors, you understand, not portières! The front room, seldom used by the parsonage family, opened on the right of the narrow hallway. Beyond it was the living-room, which it must be confessed the parsonage girls only called "living-room" when they were on their Sunday behavior,—ordinarily it was the sitting-room, and a cheery, homey, attractive place it was, with a great bay window looking out upon the stately mansion of the Averys. To the left of the living-room was the dining-room. The double doors between them were always open. The other pair was closed, except on occasions of importance.

Now, this really was a crisis in the life of the parsonage family,—if not of the parsonage itself. The girls had met, separately, every member of the Ladies' Aid. But this was their first combined movement upon the parsonage, and Prudence and Fairy realized that much depended on the success of the day. As girls, the whole Methodist church pronounced the young Starrs charming. But as parsonage people,—well, they were obliged to reserve judgment. And as for Prudence having entire charge of the household, it must be acknowledged that every individual Lady looked forward to this meeting with eagerness,—they wanted to "size up" the situation. They were coming to see for themselves! Yes, it was undoubtedly a crisis.