hey always have a little hair," she insisted.

"No, indeed they don't, Miss Connie," he said flatly. "For if they
always did, ours would have. Now, don't try to let on there's anything
the matter with her, for there isn't.--Look at her nose, if you don't
like her hair.--What do you think of a nose like that now? Just look at
it."

"Yes, we're looking at it," was the grim reply.

"And--and chin,--look at her chin. See here, do you mean to say you are
making fun of Fairy Harmer? Come on, tootsie, we'll go back up-stairs.
They're crazy about us up there."

"Oh, see the cunning little footies," crowed Connie.

"Here, cover 'em up," said Jerry anxiously. "You mustn't let their feet
stick out. Prudence says so. It's considered very--er, bad form, I
believe."

"Fairy! Honestly, Jerry, is it Fairy? When did you decide?"

"Oh, a long time ago," he said, "years ago, I guess. You see, we always
wanted a girl. Prue didn't think she had enough experience with the
stronger sex yet, and of course I'm strong for the ladies. But it seems
that what you want is what you don't get. So we decided to call her
Fairy when she came, and then we wanted a boy, and talked boy, and got
the girl! I guess it always works just that way, if you manage it
cleverly. Come now, Fairy, you needn't wrinkle up that smudge of a nose
at me.--Let go, Connie, it is my daughter's bedtime. There now, there
now, baby, was she her daddy's little girl?"

Flushed and laughing, Jerry broke away from the admiring, giggling,
nearly tearful girls, and hurried up-stairs with Jerry Junior.

But Fairy stood motionless by the door. "Prudence's baby," she
whispered. "Little Fairy Harmer!--Mmmmmmm!"

CHAPTER XI

THE END OF FAIRY

Now that the twins had attained to the dignity of eighteen years, and
were respectable students at the thoroughly respectable Presbyterian
college, they had dates very frequently. And it was along about this
time that Mr. Starr developed a sudden interest in the evening callers
at his home. He bobbed up unannounced in most unexpected places and at
most unexpected hours. He walked about the house with a sharp sly look
in his eyes, in a way that could only be described as Carol said, by
"downright nosiness." The girls discussed this new phase of his
character when they were alone, but decided not to mention it to him,
for fear of hurting his feelings. "Maybe he's got a new kind of a sermon
up his brain," said Carol. "Maybe he's begi