"For mercy's sake, less noise!" Serina whispered. "You'll wake poor Prue!"
Ollie next dropped the tray she had just unloaded on the table. Serina was furious. Ollie whispered:
"I'm so nervous for fear I've lost my job at Judge Hippisley's, now that Prue had to go and slap Orton."
"Always thinking of yourself," was Serina's rebuke. "Don't be so selfish!"
But Ollie's fears were wasted. Orton Hippisley might have boasted of kisses he did not get, but not of the slaps that he did. He had gained a new respect for Prue, and at the first opportunity pleaded for forgiveness, eying her little fist the while. He begged her to go with him to a dance at his home that evening.
She forgave him for the sake of the invitation—and she glided and dipped at the judge's house while Ollie spent the evening in his office trying to finish the day's work. Her speed was not yet up to requirements. Prue's speed was.
Other girls watched Prue manipulating her members in the intricate mechanisms of the latest dances. They begged her to teach them, but she laughed and said: "It's easy. Just watch what I do and do the same."
So Raphael told his pupils and Napoleon his subordinates.
That night Ollie and Prue reached home at nearly the same time. Ollie told how well she was getting along in the judge's office. Prue told how she had made wall-flowers of everybody else in Mrs. Hippisley's parlor. Let those who know a mother's heart decide which daughter Serina was the prouder of, the good or the bad.
She told William about it—how Ollie had learned to type letters with both hands and how Prue got there with both feet. And papa said, "She's a great girl!"