“Here—­here’s a note, Prudence.  Don’t read it until after I’ve gone to school,—­at ten o’clock you may read it.  Will you promise?”

Prudence laughed a little, but she promised, and laid the note carefully away to wait the appointed hour for its perusal.  As the clock struck ten she went to the mantle, and took it down.  This is what Carol had written: 

“Oh, Prudence, do please forgive me, and don’t punish Connie any more.  You can punish me any way you like, and I’ll be glad of it.  It was all my fault.  I made her go and get the apples for me, and I ate them.  Connie didn’t eat one of them.  She said stolen apples would not taste very good.  It was all my fault, and I’m so sorry.  I was such a coward I didn’t dare tell you last night.  Will you forgive me?  But you must punish me as hard as ever you can.  But please, Prudence, won’t you punish me some way without letting Lark know about it?  Please, please, Prudence, don’t let Larkie know.  You can tell Papa and Fairy so they will despise me, but keep it from my twin.  If you love me, Prudence, don’t let Larkie know.”

As Prudence read this her face grew very stern.  Carol’s fault!  And she was ashamed to have her much-loved twin know of her disgrace.  At that moment, Prudence heard some one running through the hall, and thrust the note hastily into her dress.  It was Lark, and she flung herself wildly upon Prudence, sobbing bitterly.

“What is the matter, Lark?” she tried, really frightened.  “Are you sick?”

“Heartsick, that’s all,” wailed Lark.  “I told the teacher I was sick so I could come home, but I’m not.  Oh, Prudence, I know you’ll despise and abominate me all the rest of your life, and everybody will, and I deserve it.  For I stole those apples myself.  That is, I made Connie go and get them for me.  She didn’t want to.  She begged not to.  But I made her.  She didn’t eat one of them,—­I did it.  And she felt very badly about it.  Oh, Prudence, you can do anything in the world to me,—­I don’t care how horrible it is; I only hope you will.  But, Prudence, you won’t let Carol know, will you?  Oh, spare me that, Prudence, please.  That’s my last request, that you keep it from Carol.”

Prudence was surprised and puzzled.  She drew the note from her pocket, and gave it to Lark.  “Carol gave me that before she went to school,” she explained.  “Read it, and tell me what you are driving at.  I think you are both crazy.  Or maybe you are just trying to shield poor Connie.”

Lark read Carol’s note, and gasped, and—­burst out laughing!  The shame, and bitter weeping, and nervousness, had rendered her hysterical, and now she laughed and cried until Prudence was alarmed again.