"Truly, St. John?" asked Peace, almost too amazed for words.
"Truly, my lady."
"Well, what do you think of that! I bet you were s'prised. Now weren't you? What do they look like? Are they pretty?"
"I can't say they are very beautiful to look at yet," admitted the fond father. "They resemble scraps of wrinkled red flannel more than anything else just now. But they will improve. Glen did, and he was a caution to took at when he was a day old."
"Are they big or little?"
"Neither is very large, but one is tinier than the other,—weighs only four pounds. She isn't such a brilliant scarlet as her sister, and we think she will have dark eyes and black hair. The reddest one has blue eyes now, is bald-headed, and possesses a most excellent pair of lungs. The Tiniest One has cried only once so far, but its twin makes up for it."
"What are their names?" The three girls hung breathlessly on his answer.
"That's one reason I am here now," the minister replied gravely. "Elspeth and I couldn't discover any suitable names for the twinnies, so she sent me down here to consult with Peace—"
"O—ee!" squealed the girls.