Part 35 (2/2)

”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 pa.s.s 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 cla.s.s, 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 a.s.sumed.

”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 offer suggestions.”

”That's kind of you.”

A pause.

”I'm going to dedicate it to Carol,--To my beloved sister, to whose kindness and sympathy, I owe all that I am,--or something like that,”

Lark explained hopefully.

”How proud Carol will be!”

A long pause.

”We're in a very critical place just now, though,” Lark seemed to be commencing at the beginning once more. ”We have our heroine in a very peculiar situation, and we can't think what to do with her next.”

”How sad.”

Another pause.

”We thought maybe you could help us out.”

”I'm afraid not,” Prudence smiled a little. ”I haven't any imagination. Ask Fairy. She's strong on love-stories.”

”Maybe if we explain the situation to you, you could give us a suggestion. It is like this: The young people have had all kinds of thrilling experiences, but they are not yet betrothed. But they are just on the point of getting there,--and something crops up all of a sudden! The hero goes das.h.i.+ng away, and returns no more. The heroine lies upon her silken couch, weeping, weeping. And no one knows what to do about it, because no one knows what has happened. What do you suppose could have sent the lover away like that?”

”Maybe he hasn't enough money for the heroine.”

<script>