s lately."

The twins laughed again.

"But I looked on the top ledge of all the windows and doors just
yesterday," admitted Lark, "and there was nothing there. Did you put
that dime in the bank?"

"Oh, never mind," said Connie. "I don't need to tell you. You twins are
too slick for me, you know."

The twins looked slightly fussed, especially when Fairy laughed with a
merry, "Good for you, Connie."

Carol rose and looked at herself in the glass. "I'm going up-stairs,"
she said.

"What for?" inquired Lark, rising also.

"I need a little more powder. My nose is shiny."

So the twins went up-stairs, and Fairy, after calling out to them to be
very careful and not get disheveled, went out into the yard and wandered
dolefully about by herself.

Connie meantime decided to get her well-hidden dime and figure out what
ten cents could buy for her fastidious and wealthy aunt. Connie was in
many ways unique. Her system of money-hiding was born of nothing less
than genius, prompted by necessity, for the twins were clever as well as
grasping. She did not know they had discovered her plan of banking on
the top ledge of the windows and doors, but having dealt with them long
and bitterly, she knew that in money matters she must give them the
benefit of all her ingenuity. For the last and precious dime, she had
discovered a brand-new hiding-place.

The cook stove sat in the darkest and most remote corner of the kitchen,
and where the chimney fitted into the wall, it was protected by a small
zinc plate. This zinc plate protruded barely an inch, but that inch was
quite sufficient for coins the size of Connie's, and there, high and
secure in the shadowy corner, lay Connie's dime. Now that she had
decided to spend it, she wanted it before her eyes,--for ten cents in
sight buys much more than ten cents in memory. She went into the kitchen
cautiously, careful of her white canvas shoes, and put a chair beside
the stove. She had discovered that the dishpan turned upside down on the
chair, gave her sufficient height to reach her novel banking place.
The preparation was soon accomplished, and neatly, for Connie was an
orderly child, and loved cleanliness even on occasions less demanding
than this.

But alas for Connie's calculations!--Carol was born for higher things
than dish washing, and she had splashed soap-suds on the table. The pan
had been set among them--and then, neatly wiped on the inside, it had
been hung up behind the tab