But to return to the Ladies,—the parsonage girls always capitalized the Ladies of their father's church, and indeed italicized them, as well. And the irrepressible Carol had been heard to remark, "I often feel like exclamation-pointing them, I promise you." But to return once more.
"One of us should go and help the dear child," said Mrs. Scott, the president of the Aids, when they assembled for their business meeting, "help her, and welcome her, and advise her."
"I was thinking of going over," said one, and another, and several others.
"Oh, that will not do at all," said the president; "she would be excited meeting so many strangers, and could not properly attend to her work. That will never do, never, never! But one of us must go, of course."
"I move that the president appoint a committee of one to help Miss Prudence get settled, and welcome her to our midst," said Mrs. Barnaby, secretly hoping that in respect for her making this suggestion honoring the president, the president would have appreciation enough to appoint Mrs. Barnaby herself as committee.
The motion was seconded, and carried.
"Well," said Mrs. Scott slowly, "I think in a case like this the president herself should represent the society. Therefore, I will undertake this duty for you."
But this called forth a storm of protest and it became so clamorous that it was unofficially decided to draw cuts! Which was done, and in consequence of that drawing of cuts, Mrs. Adams now sat on the front porch of the old gray parsonage, cheered by the knowledge that every other Lady of the Aid was envying her!
"Now, just be real sociable and tell me all about yourself, and the others, too," urged Mrs. Adams. "I want to know all about every one of you. Tell me everything."
"There isn't much to tell," said Prudence, smiling. "There are five of us; I am the oldest, I am nineteen. Then comes Fairy, then the twins, and then the baby."