ow they take it," she smiled at them
benignly. "I can imagine their excitement. And we owe it to the world to
give it all the excitement we can. Prudence says so."

Prudence looked startled. "Did I say that?"

"Certainly. You said pleasure--but excitement's very pleasing, most of
the time. Come on, Larkie, we'll have to walk fast."

And with a fond good-by to the generous family, the twins set out to
spread the joyful tidings, Lark pausing at the door just long enough to
explain gravely, "Of course, we won't tell them--er--just how it
happened, you know. Lots of things in a parsonage need to be kept dark.
Prudence says so herself."

CHAPTER IV

HOW CAROL SPOILED THE WEDDING

A day in June,--the kind of day that poets have rhymed and lovers have
craved since time began. On the side porch of the parsonage, in a wide
hammock, lay Aunt Grace, looking languidly through half-closed lids at
the girls beneath her on the step. Prudence, although her face was all
a-dream, bent conscientiously over the bit of linen in her hands. And
Fairy, her piquantly bright features clouded with an unwonted frown,
crumpled a letter in her hand.

"I do think men are the most aggravating things that ever lived," she
declared, with annoyance in her voice.

The woman in the hammock smiled slightly, and did not speak. Prudence
carefully counted ten threads, and solemnly drew one before she voiced
her question.

"What is he saying now?"

"Why, he's still objecting to my having dates with the other boys."
Fairy's voice was vibrant with grief. "He does make me wild! Aunt Grace,
you can't imagine. Last fall I mentioned casually that I was sure he
wouldn't object to my having lecture course dates--I was too hard up to
buy a ticket for myself; they cost four dollars, and aren't worth it,
either. And what did he do but send me eight dollars to buy two sets of
tickets! Then this spring, when the baseball season opened, he sent me
season tickets to all the games suggesting that my financial stringency
could not be pleaded as an excuse. Ever since he went to Chicago last
fall we've been fighting because the boys bring me home from parties. I
suppose he had to go and learn to be a pharmacist, but--it's hard on me.
He wants me to patter along by myself like a--like--like a hen!" Fairy
said "hen" very crossly!

"It's a shame," said Prudence sympathetically. "That's just what it is.
You wouldn't say a word to his taking girls home from thing