Prudence caught her cue again and began weeping afresh. They soothed and caressed and comforted each other for a while, and then went down-stairs to finish getting supper.
In the meantime, the shocked and horrified twins in the closet of their own room, were clutching each other with passionate intensity. Little nervous chills set them aquiver, their hands were cold, their faces throbbing hot. When their sisters had gone down-stairs, they stared at each other in agony.
"They—they wo-won't p-p-put us out of the ch-ch-church," gasped Carol.
"They will," stammered Lark. "You know what Prudence is! She'd put the whole church out if she thought it would do us any good."
"Pa-p-pa'll—papa'll—" began Carol, her teeth chattering.
"They'll do it before he gets back." Then with sudden reproach she cried, "Oh, Carol, I told you it was wicked to joke about religion."
This unexpected reproach on the part of her twin brought Carol back to earth. "Christian Science isn't religion," she declared. "It's not even good sense, as far's I can make out. I didn't read a word of it, did you?—I—I just thought it would be such a good joke on Prudence—with father out of town."
The good joke was anything but funny now.
"They can't make us be Scientists if we don't want to," protested Lark. "They can't. Why, I wouldn't be anything but a Methodist for anything on earth. I'd die first."
"You can't die if you're a Scientist—anyhow, you oughtn't to. Millie Mains told me—"