The family stared in concerted amazement. When before this had the twins shown anxiety about their lateness for meals—unless a favorite dessert or salad was all consumed in their absence. And it was only half past four!
Carol gently shoved Connie off the cushion upon which she had dropped, and arranged it tenderly in a chair.
"Sit down and rest, Larkie," she said in a soft and loving voice. "Are you nearly tired to death?"
Lark sank, panting, into the chair, and gazed about the circle with brilliant eyes.
"Get her a drink, can't you, Connie?" said Carol indignantly. "Can't you see the poor thing is just tired to death? She ran the whole way home!"
Still the family stared. The twins' devotion to each other was never failing, but this attentiveness on the part of Carol was extremely odd. Now she sat down on the step beside her sister, and gazed up into the flushed face with adoring, but somewhat patronizing, pride. After all, she had had a whole lot to do with training Larkie!
"What in the world?" began their father curiously.
"Had a sunstroke?" queried Fairy, smiling.
"You're both crazy," declared Connie, coming back with the water. "You're trying to fool us. I won't ask any questions. You don't catch me this time."
"Why don't you lie down and let Lark use you for a footstool, Carol?" suggested their father, with twinkling eyes.