“The neighbors were kind of amused by then, and mother was very sensitive about it.  So the next time she determined to get ahead of Fate.  ‘No more nonsense, now,’ said mother.  ’It’s almost certain to be a boy, and we’ll call him William after father,—­and Billy for short.’  We all liked the name Billy, mother especially.  But she couldn’t call father anything but William,—­we being parsonage people, you know.  But she kept looking forward to little Billy,—­and then they changed it in a hurry to Constance.  And after that, father and mother gave the whole thing up as a bad job.  There aren’t any more of us.  Connie settled the baby business in our family.”

Mrs. Adams wiped her eyes, and leaned weakly back in her chair, gasping for breath.  “Well, I swan!” was all she could say at that moment.

While giving herself time to recover her mental poise she looked critically at this young daughter of the parsonage.  Then her eyes wandered down to her clothes, and lingered, in silent questioning, on Prudence’s dress.  It was a very peculiar color.  In fact, it was no color at all,—­no named color.  Prudence’s eyes had followed Mrs. Adams’ glance, and she spoke frankly.

“I suppose you’re wondering if this dress is any color!  Well, I think it really is, but it isn’t any of the regular shades.  It is my own invention, but I’ve never named it.  We couldn’t think of anything appropriate.  Carol suggested ‘Prudence Shade,’ but I couldn’t bring myself to accept that.  Of course, Mrs. Adams, you understand how parsonage people do with clothes,—­handing them down from generation unto generation.  Well, I didn’t mind it at first,—­when I was the biggest.  But all of a sudden Fairy grew up and out and around, and one day when I was so nearly out of clothes I hardly felt that I could attend church any more, she suggested that I cut an old one of hers down for me!  At first I laughed, and then I was insulted.  Fairy is three years younger than I, and before then she had got my handed-downs.  But now the tables were turned.  From that time on, whenever anything happened to Fairy’s clothes so a gore had to be cut out, or the bottom taken off,—­they were cut down for me.  I still feel bitter about it.  Fairy is dark, and dark blues are becoming to her.  She handed down this dress,—­it was dark blue then.  But I was not wanting a dark blue, and I thought it would be less recognizable if I gave it a contrasting color.  I chose lavender.  I dyed it four times, and this was the result.”

“Do the twins dress alike?” inquired Mrs. Adams, when she could control her voice.