"It's because we are twins,' Meg said. "Twins are made alike, and so they like the same things. I'm glad I'm a twin. If I had to be born again and be an un-twin, I'm sure I should be lonely."
"I don't think it matters whether you are a boy or a girl if you are a twin," said Robin, "you are a part of the other one, and so it's as if you were both."
They had never had secrets from each other. They had read the same books as they grew older, been thrilled by the same stories, and shared in each other's plans and imaginings or depressions. So it was a curious thing that at this special time, when they were drawn nearer to one another by an unusual interest and sympathy, there should have arrived a morning when each rose with a thought unshared by the other.
Aunt Matilda was very busy that day. She was always busy, but this morning seemed more actively occupied than usual. She never appeared to sit down unless to dispose of a hurried meal or go over accounts. She was a wonderful woman, and the twins knew that the most objectionable thing they could do was not to remove themselves after a repast was over. But this morning Meg walked over to a chair and firmly sat down in it and watched her as she vigorously moved things about, rubbed dust off them and put them into their right places.
