Carol and Lark had the grace to flush a little at this, but however the
stolen apples tasted, the twins had no difficulty in disposing of them.
Then, full almost beyond the point of comfort, they slid down the
hay-chutes, went out the back way, climbed over the chicken coops,--not
because it was necessary, but because it was their idea of
amusement,--and went for a walk in the field. At the farthest corner
of the field they crawled under the fence, cut through a neighboring
potato patch, and came out on the street. Then they walked respectably
down the sidewalk, turned the corner and came quietly in through the
front door of the parsonage.

Prudence was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. Fairy was in
the sitting-room, busy with her books. The twins set the table
conscientiously, filled the wood-box, and in every way labored
irreproachably. But Prudence had no word of praise for them that
evening. She hardly seemed to know they were about the place. She
went about her work with a pale face, and never a smile to be seen.

Supper was nearly ready when Connie sauntered in from the barn. After
leaving the haymow, she had found a cozy corner in the com-crib, with
two heavy lap robes discarded by the twins in their flight from wolves,
and had settled down there to finish her story. As she stepped into
the kitchen, Prudence turned to her with such a sorry, reproachful gaze
that Connie was frightened.

"Are you sick, Prue?" she gasped.

Prudence did not answer. She went to the door and called Fairy.
"Finish getting supper, will you, Fairy? And when you are all ready,
you and the twins go right on eating. Don't wait for father,--he isn't