"No, dear, always write it Prudence Holmes—forget that you had any other name. It is so uncommon that people would ask how you came by it and then they would know immediately who your father was."
"But I like to tell them who my father was. Do people know you in Aunt
Prue's city?"
"Yes, they knew me once and they are not likely to forget. Promise me,
Jerrie—Prue, that you will give up your first name."
"I don't like to, now I must, but I will, papa, and I'll tell Aunt Prue you liked her name best, shall I?"
"Yes, tell her all I've been telling you—always tell her everything—never do anything that you cannot tell her—and be sure to tell her if any one speaks to you about your father, and she will talk to you about it."
"Yes, papa," promised the child in an uncomprehending tone.
"Does Nurse teach you a Bible verse every night as I asked her to do?"
"Oh, yes, and I like some of them. The one last night was about a name!
Perhaps it meant Prue was a good name."
"What is it?" he asked.
"'A good name—a good name—'" she repeated, with her eyes on the floor of the veranda, "and then something about riches, great riches, but I do forget so. Shall I run and ask her, papa?"