I'll get some hot water so you can soak your feet, too. And you
shall drink some good hot peppermint tea, into the bargain. I'll teach
you to sit around in wet clothes! Do you think I want an invalid on my
hands?"

"Oh, don't be so fussy," said Connie fretfully, "wet feet don't do any
harm." But she obligingly soaked her feet, and drank the peppermint.

"Are your feet wet, twins?"

"No," said Lark, "we have better judgment than to go splashing through
the wet old snow.--What's the matter with you, Carol? Why don't you
sit still? Are your feet wet?"

"No, but it's too hot in this room. My clothes feel sticky. May I
open the door, Prudence?"

"Mercy, no! The snow is blowing a hurricane now. It isn't very hot in
here, Carol. You've been running outdoors in the cold, and that makes
it seem hot. You must peel the potatoes now, twins, it's time to get
supper. Carol, you run up-stairs and ask papa if he got his feet wet.
Between him and Connie, I do not have a minute's peace in the winter
time!"

"You go, Lark," said Carol. "My head aches."

"Do you want me to rub it?" asked Prudence, as Lark skipped up-stairs
for her twin.

"No, it's just the closeness in here. It doesn't ache very bad. If we
don't have more fresh air, we'll all get something and die,
Prudence.--I tell you that. This room is perfectly stuffy.--I do not
want to talk any more." And Carol got up from her chair and walked
restlessly about the room.

But Carol was sometimes given to moods, and so, without concern,
Prudence went to the kitchen to prepare the evening meal.

"Papa says his feet are not wet, and that you are a big simpleton,
and--Oh, did you make cinnamon rolls to-day, Prue? Oh, goody! Carrie,
come on out! Look,--she made cinnamon rolls."

Connie, too, hastened out to the kitchen in her bare feet, and was
promptly driven back by the watchful Prudence.

"I just know you are going to be sick, Connie,--I feel it in my bones.
And walking out in that cold kitchen in your bare feet! You can just
drink some more peppermint tea for that, now."

"Well, give me a cinnamon roll to go with it," urged Connie.
"Peppermint is awfully dry, taken by itself."

Lark hooted gaily at this sentiment, but joined her sister in pleading
for cinnamon rolls.

"No, wait until supper is ready. You do not need to help peel the
potatoes to-night, Carol. Run back where it is warm, and you must not
read if your head aches. You read too m