ned it critically. "The neck's too
small," she announced decidedly. "Nothing could wear that."

"We're using this for a pattern," said Fairy, lifting a yellowed, much
worn garment from the sewing basket. "I wore this, and so did you and so
did Connie,--my lovely child."

Carol rubbed her hand about her throat in a puzzled way. "I can't seem
to realize that we ever grew out of that," she said slowly. "Is Prudence
all right?"

"Yes, just fine."

The twins looked at each other bashfully. Then, "I'll bet there'll be no
living with Jerry after this," said Lark.

"Oh, papa," lisped Carol, in a high-pitched voice supposed to represent
the tone of a little child. They both giggled, and blinked hard to
crowd back the tears that wouldn't stay choked down. Prudence! And that!

"And see here, twins, Prudence has a crazy notion that she wants to come
home for it. She says she'll be scared in a hospital, and Jerry's
willing to come here with her. What do you think about it?"

The twins looked doubtful. "They say it ought to be done in a hospital,"
announced Carol gravely. "Jerry can afford it."

"Yes, he wanted to. But Prudence has set her heart on coming home. She
says she'll never feel that Jerry Junior got the proper start if it
happens any place else. They'll have a trained nurse."

"Jerry--what?" gasped the twins, after a short silence due to amazement.

"Jerry Junior,--that's what they call it."

"But how on earth do they know?"

"They don't know. But they have to call it something, haven't they? And
they want a Jerry Junior. So of course they'll get it. For Prudence is
good enough to get whatever she wants."

"Hum, that's no sign," sniffed Carol. "I don't get everything I want, do
I?"

The girls laughed, from habit not from genuine interest, at Carol's
subtle insinuation.

"Well, shall we have her come?"

"Yes," said Carol, "but you tell Prue she needn't expect me to hold it
until it gets too big to wiggle. I call them nasty, treacherous little
things. Mrs. Miller made me hold hers, and it squirmed right off my
knee. I wanted to spank it."

"And tell Prudence to uphold the parsonage and have a white one," added
Lark. "These little Indian effects don't make a hit with me."

"Are you going to tell Connie?"

"I don't think so--yet. Connie's only fourteen."

"You tell her." Carol's voice was emphatic. "There's nothing mysterious
about it. Everybody does it. And Connie may have a few suggestions of
her own