“Oh, I adore it.  But serve a microscope with it, please.  I want to examine it for microbes before I taste.”

But Prudence did better than that.  She made some delicious cocoa, and opened a can of pear preserves, donated to the parsonage by the amiable Mrs. Adams.  The twins were very fond of pear preserves, and had been looking forward to eating these on their approaching birthday.  They were doomed to disappointment!  The three had a merry little feast, after all, and their laughter rang out so often and so unrestrainedly that the twins shook in their beds with rage and disappointment.

Mr. Starr came in while they were eating, and joined them genially.  But afterward, when Prudence realized that etiquette called for their retirement, her father still sat complacently by the register, talking and laughing.  Prudence fastened her eyes upon him.

“Well, I must honestly go to bed,” she said, gazing hypnotically at her father.  “I know you will excuse me.  I must store up my strength to deal with the twins in the morning.”

She got up from her chair, and moved restlessly about the room, still boring her father with her eyes.  He did not move.  She paused beside him, and slipped her hand under his elbow.

“Now, father,” she said gaily, “we must put our heads together, and think out a proper punishment for the awful creatures.”

Her hand was uplifting, and Mr. Starr rose with it.  Together they left the room with cordial good nights, and inviting Mr. Babler to “try the parsonage again.”  Prudence listened outside the twins’ door, and heard them breathing loudly.  Then she went to her own room, and snuggling down beneath the covers, laughed softly to herself.

“Etiquette!” she gurgled.  “Etiquette!  There’s no room for such a thing in a parsonage,—­I see that!”

It speaks well for the courage of Babbie, and the attractions of Fairy, that he came to the parsonage again and again.  In time he became the best of friends with the twins themselves, but he always called them “the adorables,” and they never asked him why.  The punishment inflicted upon them by Prudence rankled in their memories for many months.  Indeed, upon that occasion, Prudence fairly surpassed herself in the ingenuity she displayed.  The twins considered themselves very nearly as grown-up as Fairy, and the fact that she was a young lady, and they were children, filled their hearts with bitterness.  They never lost an opportunity of showing their independence where she was concerned.  And with marvelous insight, Prudence used Fairy as her weapon of punishment,—­in fact, the twins called Fairy the “ducking-stool” for many days.

“The offense was against Fairy,” said Prudence, with a solemnity she did not feel, “and the reparation must be done to her.  For three weeks, you must do all of her bedroom work, and run every errand she requires.  Moreover, you must keep her shoes well cleaned and nicely polished, and must do every bit of her darning!”