and her throat swelled with sobs that were
heavy but soundless.

The next morning was Lark's turn for making the bed. And when she shook
up Carol's pillow she found it was very damp.

"Why, the little goose," she said to herself, smiling, "she laughed
until she cried, all by herself. And then she turned the pillow over
thinking I wouldn't see it. The little goose! And what on earth was she
laughing at?"

CHAPTER X

JERRY JUNIOR

For some time the twins ignored the atmosphere of solemn mystery which
pervaded their once so cheerful home. But when it finally reached the
limit of their endurance they marched in upon their aunt and Fairy with
an admirable admixture of dignity and indignation in their attitude.

"Who's haunted?" inquired Carol abruptly.

"Where's the criminal?" demanded Lark.

"Yes, little twins, talk English and maybe you'll learn something." And
for the moment the anxious light in Fairy's eyes gave way to a twinkle.
Sad indeed was the day when Fairy could not laugh at the twins.

"Then, in common vernacular, though it is really beneath us, what's up?"

Fairy turned innocently inquiring eyes toward the ceiling. "What
indeed?"

"Oh, don't try to be dramatic, Fairy," counseled Lark. "You're too fat
for a star-Starr."

The twins beamed at each other approvingly at this, and Fairy smiled.
But Carol returned promptly to the charge. "Are Jerry and Prudence
having domestic difficulties? There's something going on, and we want to
know. Father looks like a fallen Samson, and--"

"A fallen Samson, Carol! Mercy! Where did you get it?"

"Yes, kind of sheepish, and ashamed, and yet hopeful of returning
strength. That's art, a simile like that is.--Prudence writes every day,
and you hide the letters. And Aunt Grace sneaks around like a convict
with her hand under her apron. And you look as heavy-laden as if you
were carrying Connie's conscience around with you."

Aunt Grace looked at Fairy, Fairy looked at Aunt Grace. Aunt Grace
raised her eyebrows. Fairy hesitated, nodded, smiled. Slowly then Aunt
Grace drew one hand from beneath her apron and showed to the eagerly
watching twins, a tiny, hand embroidered dress. They stared at it,
fascinated, half frightened, and then looked into the serious faces of
their aunt and sister.

"I--I don't believe it," whispered Carol. "She's not old enough."

Aunt Grace smiled.

"She's older than mother was," said Fairy.

Lark took the little dress and exami