It was something of a running joke among their neighbors that their parents hadn't known when to quit trying for a son--poppycock, of course, their father used to say. Who wouldn't be happy with four such lovely daughters, all of whom were good, honest children, except for maybe Edith, but their father did have a soft spot for his second youngest and the "scamp of the bunch" as he oft called her.

"Four Daughters of Eve," the White Witch mutters under her breath and has to remind herself not to instantly strike down Edith as she gobbles down another Turkish delight--after all, she wants to whittle that number down to zero, not just three.