changed it in a hurry to Constance. And after that, father and mother
gave the whole thing up as a bad job. There aren't any more of us.
Connie settled the baby business in our family."

Mrs. Adams wiped her eyes, and leaned weakly back in her chair, gasping
for breath. "Well, I swan!" was all she could say at that moment.

While giving herself time to recover her mental poise she looked
critically at this young daughter of the parsonage. Then her eyes
wandered down to her clothes, and lingered, in silent questioning, on
Prudence's dress. It was a very peculiar color. In fact, it was no
color at all,--no named color. Prudence's eyes had followed Mrs.
Adams' glance, and she spoke frankly.

"I suppose you're wondering if this dress is any color! Well, I think
it really is, but it isn't any of the regular shades. It is my own
invention, but I've never named it. We couldn't think of anything
appropriate. Carol suggested 'Prudence Shade,' but I couldn't bring
myself to accept that. Of course, Mrs. Adams, you understand how
parsonage people do with clothes,--handing them down from generation
unto generation. Well, I didn't mind it at first,--when I was the
biggest. But all of a sudden Fairy grew up and out and around, and one
day when I was so nearly out of clothes I hardly felt that I could
attend church any more, she suggested that I cut an old one of hers
down for me! At first I laughed, and then I was insulted. Fairy is
three years younger than I, and before then she had got my
handed-downs. But now the tables were turned. From that time on,
whenever anything happened to Fairy's clothes so a gore had to be cut
out, or the bottom taken off,--they were cut down for me. I still feel
bitter about it. Fairy is dark, and dark blues are becoming to her.