ic thing for me to
say. Of course, you may play in the maple whenever you like. But be
careful. You couldn't save yourselves in falling as--as men can."

"We won't play there if you want us not to," said Carol kindly.

"I do want you to play there," she answered. "It's a very nice place,
and great fun, I know. I might try it myself if--my joints weren't so
stiff! Now, go on with your Latin."

But Prudence did not pass under the maple for many weeks without
clenching her hands, and shuddering.

The twins were not satisfied. They marveled, and wondered, and
pondered over the subject of Jerry's disappearance. Finally they felt
it was more than human flesh could stand. They would approach Prudence
on the subject themselves. But they bided their time. They must wait
until Fairy was safely out of the house. Fairy these days had an
infuriating way of saying, "That will do, twins. You'd better go and
play now." It enraged and distracted the twins almost to the point of
committing crime.

They had made several artistic moves already. Professor Duke, of their
freshman biology class, had written Carol a gay long letter. And Carol
was enthusiastic about it. She and Lark talked of "dear old Duck" for
two weeks, almost without pausing for sleep.

"I'm sure you would fall in love with him on the spot," Carol had said
to Prudence suggestively.

Prudence had only smiled, evidently in sarcasm!

"Jerry was very nice,--oh, very nice,--but you ought to see our little
Duck!" Carol rattled rashly. "I'm sure you wouldn't regret Jerry any
more if you could just get hold of Duckie. Of course, his being in New
York is an obstacle, but I could introduce you by mail."

"I do not care for Ducks," said Prudence. "Of course, they look very
nice swimming around on the water, but when it comes to eating,--I'll
take spring chicken every time."

Carol did not mention "Duck" again for three days.

But there came a day when Fairy was out in the country. Connie had
gone driving with her father. The moment had arrived. The twins had
their plan of campaign memorized, and they sauntered in to Prudence
with a nonchalance that was all assumed.

"Prudence," Lark began, "we're writing a book."

"That's nice," said Prudence. Conversation languished. The subject
seemed exhausted.

Carol came to the rescue. "It's a very nice book. It's a love-story,
and perfectly thrilling. Larkie does the writing, but I criticize and
offe