Prudence Says So | Page 6

train carried their father off in the direction of
Burlington, and at eleven o'clock the twins returned to the parsonage.
They had given him a daughterly send-off at the station, and then gone

to the library for books. Prudence, Fairy and Aunt Grace sat sewing on
the side porch as they cut across the parsonage lawn, their feet crinkling
pleasantly through the drift of autumn leaves the wind had piled
beneath the trees.
"We're out of potatoes, twins," said Prudence, as they drew near.
"You'll have to dig some before dinner."
For one instant their complacent features clouded. Prudence looked up
expectantly, sure of a break in their serene placidity.
One doubtful second, then--
"Certainly, Prudence," said Carol brightly.
And Lark added genially, "We'd better fill the box, I guess--so we'll
have enough for the rest of the week."
And singing a light but unharmonic snatch of song, the twins went in
search of basket and hoe.
The twins were not musical. They only sang from principle, to
emphasize their light-heartedness when it needed special impressing.
Prudence's brows knitted in anxious frowns, and she sighed a few
times.
"What is the matter, Prue? You look like a rainy Christmas," said Fairy.
"It's the twins," was the mournful answer.
"The twins!" ejaculated Fairy. "Why, they've acted like angels lately."
Even Aunt Grace lifted mildly inquiring eyebrows.
"That's it!--That's just it. When the twins act like angels I get uneasy
right away. The better they act, the more suspicious I feel."
"What have they been doing?"

"Nothing! Not a thing! That's why I'm worried. It must be something
terrible!"
Fairy laughed and returned to her embroidery. Aunt Grace smiled and
began plying her needles once more. But Prudence still looked troubled,
and sighed often.
There was no apparent ground for her alarm. The twins came back with
the potatoes, peeled some for luncheon, and set the table, their faces
still bright and smiling. Prudence's eyes, often fastened upon their
angelic countenances, grew more and more troubled.
In the afternoon, they joined the little circle on the porch, but not to sew.
They took a book, and lay down on a rug with the book before them,
reading together. Evidently they were all absorbed. An hour passed,
two hours, three. At times Carol pointed to a line, and said in a low
voice, "That's good, isn't it?" And Lark would answer, "Dandy!--Have
you read this?"
Prudence, in spite of her devotion to the embroidering of large S's on
assorted pieces of linen, never forgot the twins for a moment.
"What are you reading?" she asked at last aimlessly, her only desire to
be reassured by the sound of their voices.
There was an almost imperceptible pause. Then Carol answered,--her
chin was in her palms which may have accounted for the mumbling of
the words.
"Scianceanelth."
"What?"
Another pause, a little more perceptible this time. "Science and
Health," Carol said at last, quite distinctly.
"Science and Health," Prudence repeated, in a puzzled tone. "Is it a
doctor book?"

"Why--something of the sort,--yes," said Carol dubiously.
"Science and Health? Science and Health," mused Fairy. "You don't
mean that Christian Science book, do you? You know what I mean,
Prudence--Mary Baker Eddy's book--Science and Health,--that's the
name of it. That's not what you twins are devouring so ravenously, is
it?"
Carol answered with manifest reluctance, glancing nervously at
Prudence, "Y-yes,--that's what it is."
Ominous silence greeted this admission. A slow red flush mantled the
twins' cheeks. Aunt Grace's eyes twinkled a little, although her face
was grave. Fairy looked surprised. Prudence looked dumfounded.
When she spoke, her words gave no sign of the cataclysmic struggle
through which she had passed.
"What are you reading that for?"
"Why--it's very interesting," explained Lark, coming to Carol's rescue.
Carol was very good at meeting investigation, but when it came to
prolonged explanation, Lark stood preeminent. "Of course, we don't
believe it--yet. But there are some good things in it. Part of it is very
beautiful. We don't just understand it,--it's very deep. But some of the
ideas are very fine, and--er--uplifting, you know."
Prudence looked most miserable. "But--twins, do you think--minister's
daughters ought to read--things like that?"
"Why, Prudence, I think minister's daughters ought to be well-informed
on every subject," declared Lark conscientiously. "How can we be an
influence if we don't know anything about things?--And I tell you what
it is, Prue, I don't think it's right for all of us church people to stand
back and knock Christian Science when we don't know anything about
it. It's narrow-minded, that's what it is. It's downright un-Christian.
When you get into the book you will find it just full of fine inspiring
thoughts--something like the Bible,--only--er--and very good, you
know."

Prudence looked at Fairy and her aunt in helpless dismay. This was
something