iculously early,
but they were all determined.

"We feel weak under this unusual strain. Our nerves can't stand the
tension. We really must retire to rest. Maybe a good night's sleep
will restore us to normal," Lark explained gravely.

Fairy only laughed. "Good!" she cried. "Do go to bed. The only time
I am sure of you is when you are in your beds. Do you mind if I tie
you in, to make assurance doubly sure?"

But the twins and Connie had disappeared.

"You keep your eyes open, Fairy," Prudence whispered melodramatically.
"Those girls do not look right. Something is hanging over our heads."
And she added anxiously, "Oh, I'll be so disappointed if things go
badly. This is the first time we've ever lived up to etiquette, and I
feel it is really a crisis."

Fairy was a little late getting up-stairs to dress, but she took time
to drop into her sisters' room. They were all in bed, breathing
heavily. She walked from one to another, and stood above them
majestically.

"Asleep!" she cried. "Ah, Fortune is kind. They are asleep. How I
love these darling little twinnies,--in their sleep!"

An audible sniff from beneath the covers, and Fairy, smiling
mischievously, went into the front room to prepare for her caller.

The bell rang as she was dressing. Prudence went to the door,
preternaturally ceremonious, and ushered Mr. Babler into the front
room. She turned on the electric switch as she opened the door. She
was too much impressed with the solemnity of the occasion to take much
note of her surroundings, and she did not observe that the young man
sniffed in a peculiar manner as he entered the room.

"I'll call Fairy," she said demurely.

"Tell her she needn't primp for me," he answered, laughing. "I know
just how she looks already."

But Prudence was too heavily burdened to laugh. She smiled hospitably,
and closed the door upon him. Fairy was tripping down the stairs, very
tall, very handsome, very gay. She pinched her sister's arm as she
passed, and the front room door swung behind. But she did not greet
her friend. She stood erect by the door, her head tilted on one side,
sniffing, sniffing.

"What in the world?" she wondered. Then she blushed. Perhaps it was
something he had used on his hair! Or perhaps he had been having his
suit cleaned! "Oh, I guess it's nothing, after all," she stammered.
But Eugene Babler was strangely quiet. He looked about the room in a
peculiar questioning way