Lark did not move. "I can't," she whispered again. "I can't." "Lark, Lark," begged Carol desperately. "You must go, you must. 'The wind went drifting o'er the lea,'--it's easy enough. Go on, Lark. You must." Lark shook her head. "Mmmmm," she murmured indistinctly. "Remember the parsonage," begged Carol. "Think of Prudence. Think of papa. Look, there he is, right down there. He's expecting you, Lark. You must!" Lark tried to rise. She could not. She could not see her father's clear encouraging face for those queer flashes of light. "You can," whispered Carol. "You can do anything if you try. Prudence says so." People were craning their necks, and peering curiously up to the second row where the twins sat side by side. The other performers nudged one another, smiling significantly. The superintendent creaked heavily across the platform and beckoned with one plump finger. "I can't," Lark whispered, "I'm sick." "Lark,--Lark," called the superintendent. Carol sighed bitterly. Evidently it was up to her. With a grim face, she rose from her chair and started out on the platform. The superintendent stared at her, his lips parting. The people stared at her too, and smiled, and then laughed. Panic-stricken, her eyes sought her father's face. He nodded quickly, and his eyes approved. "Good!" His lips formed the word, and Carol did not falter again. The applause was nearly drowned with laughter as Carol advanced for her second recitation. "The wind went drifting o'er the lea," she began,--her voice drifting properly on the words,--and so on to the end of the piece. Most of the audience, knowing Lark's temperament, had concluded that fear prevented her appearance, and understood that Carol had come to her twin's rescue for the reputation of the parsonage. The applause was deafening as she went back. It grew louder as she sat down with a comforting little grin at Lark. Then as the clapping continued, something of her natural impishness entered her heart. "Lark," she whispered, "go out and make a bow." "Mercy!" gasped Lark. "I didn't do anything." "It was supposed to be you--go on, Lark! Hurry! You've got to! Think what a joke it will be." Lark hesitated, but Carol's dominance was compelling. "Do as I tell you," came the peremptory order, and Lark arose from her chair, stepped out before the astonished audience and made a slow and graceful bow. This time the applause ran riot, for people of less experience than those of Mount Mark could tell that the twins were playing a game. As it continued, Carol caught Larkin's hand in hers, and together they stepped out once more, laughing and bowing right and left. Lark was the last one in that night, for she and Jim celebrated her defeat with two ice-cream sodas a piece at the corner drug store. "I disgraced the parsonage," she said meekly, as she stepped into the family circle, waiting to receive her.