Janet, a twin

Phyllis noticed it and laughed again.

"Funny how fond Boru is of me, isn't it?" she asked. Then they went down stairs together.

Auntie Mogs was busy arranging some flowers in a bowl.

"Phyllis, help me with these, will you, dear!"

The white dress stepped forward and then stood still, and the blue chiffon was soon bending over the table.

Martha came into the room, carrying a plate of tea biscuits.

"Put these on the side table, Miss Janet, please," she said, and the white dress did as she asked.

"What is the matter with you children!" Auntie Mogs asked. "You are so quiet."

"Nothing at all," they both answered together.

Tom came in and looked around hurriedly.

"Nobody here yet! Then I'm going to have a cooky, a piece of cake and some candy. Janet, dear little sister of mine, give me one of those biscuits, or two if you insist." The white dress offered him the plate and two brown eyes looked at him hard as he helped himself. But he filled his pockets unconcernedly and turned toward the table.

"Phyllis, other little sister of mine, have you a flower for my button hole! I'm not going to be at your party, but I want to look festive none the less."

The blue dress stood very close to him as the flower was carefully poked into place.

"You are both very quiet this afternoon, it seems to me," he observed critically, looking from one to the other. "What's the matter?"

The girls began to laugh, and they kept it up until they had to lean on each other for support.

"Well, evidently something is very wrong indeed, but I didn't mean to remind you of it. Are you going to do this often during the afternoon?"

Only suppressed gurgles answered him, and he marched off to his own room in disgust.

It was not long before the guests began to arrive.

Miss Carter met them at the door, and the girls both shook hands with each one and then went off for tea or cake, and each time the guest said, "Thank you, Janet," to the white dress, and "That's very sweet of you," to the blue one. And every now and then both girls would disappear into the hall, laugh silently and return to their posts.

The Blakes were among the first arrivals, and Mrs. Todd was with them. Mildred and Alice were a little surprised that the wearer of the white dress came up to them and said "hello!" in the friendliest way.

"Will you have a cup of tea and a biscuit? You ought to be hungry after that long walk, or did you drive over? Oh, but of course you didn't; I forgot you were tired of driving." The white dress fluttered away to return a minute later with tea.

"Here you are; can you manage all the plates?"

"Why, of course," Mildred replied. "How nice it must be for you to have your sister here," she said, smiling.

"Oh, it is rather nice."

"Rather nice!" Alice exclaimed. "I should think it would be a perfect blessing."

"Now, why a blessing?"

"Why—why because it is some one for you to be with." Alice was amazed. "You must have been awfully lonely before she came?"

"Lonely—I? How silly!"

"Well, but you never went with any of the girls except us now and again, and naturally every one thought you must be lonely. Alice isn't the only one who thought so," Mildred said vehemently.

"Then every one was wrong. I never was lonely for a minute. I had too many things to think about. Of course it is nice having a sister that understands you, but even without her I would not be lonely." The white dress drifted away at a sign from the hostess, and Alice and Mildred were left looking at each other in pained surprise. They were wearing their hair rolled up and tied at the back of their necks for the first time, and they couldn't imagine why Janet had said nothing about it.

"How queer she is to-day," Mildred said.

"And to think we always thought of her as lonely! I guess she didn't come to see us any oftener because she didn't want to," Alice replied.

Across the room, Miss Clark was talking to the wearer of the blue dress.

"Isn't it beautiful to think of your being here with Janet?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, it is splendid."

"I suppose you will be carrying her back to the dreadful city with you before long?"

"Yes, I think we will go in a few weeks. School begins, you see, and we mustn't be too late getting back."

"What a change it will be for dear Janet!" Miss Clark continued. "I can't say I altogether approve."

"But why?"

"Well, it will change her, and I hate to think of her getting cityfied and filling her head with notions." Miss Clark did not specify just exactly what notions were.

"Of course you are very dear and sweet," she continued, "but you are not at all like our Janet; though you look very much alike, I would never confuse you for an instant."

"Are you quite sure!"

"Indeed I am, and I don't want to hurt your feelings when I say that I hope you will not let Janet change too much."

"Why, I think it will do her good to go to the city. She will meet lots of nice girls and go to school, and certainly anything would be better than being alone so much of the time as she is here. I hope she learns to be like other girls when she gets to town."

"Ah, well, I am afraid I can't agree with you," Miss Clark said sadly. The blue dress hurried off to pass the cake to Mrs. Todd, who was sitting alone in a corner.

"Stay with me, child," Mrs. Todd said when she had helped herself. "I want to look at you. I thought this afternoon that you were like your father in manner,"—her blue eyes searched the brown ones. Suddenly she frowned. "Hello, that's odd. No, I can't be wrong. You little imps you, you've—"

"Oh, do hush, please; some one might hear you, and not a soul has even suspected, not even Auntie Mogs. How did you guess?" Janet demanded.

"Eyes," Mrs. Todd said shortly. "Yours have little tiny flecks of gold in them, like your mother's. Phyllis's are clearer, less dreamy, like her father's. I won't give you away."

"Oh, thanks; you can't imagine what fun it is. I am hearing all sorts of things about myself, and I can't wait to compare notes with Phyllis."

Opportunity came a little later when they met in the kitchen. Phyllis repeated her numerous conversations, and Janet told her that Mrs. Todd had guessed.

"But she has promised not to say anything," she added.

"Good; don't let's change even for dinner. I believe we could fool Tommy and Auntie Mogs all evening," Phyllis chuckled.

"It's lots of fun being you," Janet whispered, as they went back into the dining-room.

"Well, I love being you; it makes me wish I really were," Phyllis answered.

Dinner passed without their game being discovered, though their occasional fits of laughter mystified Tommy and Auntie Mogs. They might have gotten safely to bed without their knowing if it hadn't been for Boru and Galahad.

They came out into the garden after dinner, pretending not to notice each other, for although Tom had succeeded in making them eat from the same dish, they were by no means friends.

Janet and Phyllis were walking up and down the center path. Sir Galahad purred softly and looked up at his mistress. Phyllis leaned down and picked him up in her aims. Janet let her hand rest on Boru's head.

Tom came out of the house just as they made a tableau by the old sundial.

At first he did not notice anything odd, but after a minute he said:

"There's something wrong with the picture. I think it's your dresses. They don't match your animals. Hold on a minute. I've got it!" he exclaimed. "You've swapped clothes."

"And you just found it out," Phyllis teased.

Tom studied them for a minute and shook his head solemnly.

"It's no wonder either; you are as alike as two peas in a pod, except for the way you talk. What a lot of larks you will be able to have, but I shouldn't wonder if you found it embarrassing when you got a little older. Perhaps I had better brand you with your initials," he suggested—then he added slowly, "Yes, I think on the whole it would be a lot better for all concerned if I did."

CHAPTER XX

GOOD-BY

One morning at the close of the visit Mrs. Page sent for Janet to come to her. When she was seated in the chair by the bed, the old lady looked at her for a long time before she said anything. When she did speak, it was to ask a startling question.

"Janet, do you love me?" she inquired shortly.

Janet stared at her in surprise.

"Well, do you or don't you?" Mrs. Page demanded.

"Why, grandmother, of course I do," Janet replied quickly.

"Why?"

"Because you have always been kind to me and taken care of me, I suppose," Janet said doubtfully.

"Is that the only reason?"

"N-no, I love you because you are my grandmother."

"Do you love me as much as you do your Aunt Marjorie?"

"Of course, but—"

"But what!"

"In a different way."

"What do you mean by different way?"

"Why, I hardly know how to put it into words,"—Janet hesitated. "I love to be with Auntie Mogs and I like to have her put her arm around me and kiss me."

"I see," Mrs. Page spoke dryly, and laughed a short unpleasant laugh.

"And you love me for the opposite reasons, eh!" she inquired.

"I don't think they are opposite reasons," Janet replied. "I love you—well, respectfully, and I like to think of your being here. I think perhaps I'm proud that you are my grandmother."

Mrs. Page seemed to think over what she had heard.

"Well, it may surprise you to hear it," she said at last, "but I love you. I love you very dearly. I have been a very selfish old woman and perhaps I have not been very gentle with you. Tom says I haven't. Certainly I have never kissed you and put my arm around you, but I have always loved you. I want you to remember that. You have always been very patient with me too, and I realize it. Sometimes I've wished you would lose your temper, but now I'm glad you didn't. Phyllis is more like her father than you are, but I suppose that serves me right. I thought that I could love her the first day I saw her. I do love her, but not as much as I love you. You are the finer of the two and some day you'll prove it."

She turned over and faced the wall Janet rose to go.

"When I die,"—Mrs. Page spoke from the depth of the pillow—"I am going to leave everything I have to you. I am telling you this because you are going away, not because I think I am going to die. Now you may go."

Janet left the room, a queer feeling of regret in her heart. She wanted to take her grandmother in her arms and kiss her as she knew Phyllis would have done, but a restraint, born from the custom of years, held her back, and she closed the door behind her, softly, as she had always done.

Phyllis was nowhere to be found, so Janet went up to the "widow's walk" to think over what her grandmother had said. She found Tom already there, smoking his pipe and reading.

"Hello, what did grandmother want?" he inquired lazily. "You were with her an awfully long time. Phyllis got tired of waiting for you and went off for a walk with Harry Waters."

"Tom,"—Janet spoke very seriously, and Tom put down his book to listen—"when I go to the city with Phyllis and Auntie Mogs may I come back and see grandmother whenever I want to?"

"Why, certainly you may; what makes you ask?" Tom replied.

"Because I think grandmother is sorry I am going; really sorry, I mean, not just angry; and I think I ought to come back and see her every once in a while," Janet told him.

"Bless your heart, I think you are right. Auntie Mogs and I were talking about the same thing only last night, and she said you could all come up whenever she wanted you." Tom pulled her down beside him and rumpled her hair. "Now are you satisfied?" he asked, laughing.

Janet nodded.

"Tell me all over again just what the plans are!" she said as she settled herself comfortably.

"I should think you would know them all by heart,"—Tom laughed. "First of all you and Phyllis will have to be separated for a few days. I don't see how you will ever bear it, but you must try. Then Auntie Mogs and Phyllis will go down to the city and get ready for your arrival. To hear Phyllis talk you would think that the walls of your room were going to be hung in gold and that no one could see to it but herself.

"But to resume. As soon as everything is ready for your ladyship I will take you down. I can picture your excitement now when you see Auntie Mogs' library, and when you are comfortably settled I will take a train West and start in rebuilding my modest shanty so that it will be ready to receive you in the spring."

Janet looked out over the water and tried to picture all Tom had said, but she gave it up.

"Do you know, Tommy," she said suddenly, "I made up my mind on this very spot to write you that letter. Doesn't it seem funny to think that we are sitting here now together?"

"It does," Tom agreed slowly, "the only pity is that you didn't write it before."

The remaining days passed rapidly, and the date set for the departure came all too soon.

"Of course it's only for a week," Phyllis said, as they stood on the station platform, "but I feel as though it were years."

"So do I," Janet replied sorrowfully. "I wish I could go home and sleep until Thursday."

"Make Tommy amuse you every minute, and don't you dare to forget me even for a half a second," Phyllis warned her. "Oh, dear, here comes the horrid old train! Kiss me again for good luck."

Janet kissed her, and then turned to her aunt.

"Good-by, Auntie Mogs," she said tearfully.

"You two babies!" Miss Carter looked down at the two doleful faces before her and laughed. "It's dreadful to be separated, especially when you are twins, isn't it? But try and brace up, both of you, and it will soon be over. Good-by for a little while, dearest child. Tommy, take good care of her, won't you?" she added, as she said good-by to him.

"The very best; and we'll be down in one short little week," he promised.

They boarded the train, and Janet insisted on waiting until the last puff of smoke curled up out of sight.

"It is going to be the longest week of my life," she said dismally.

The house without Phyllis was unbearable, and Janet rowed over to the Enchanted Kingdom to find consolation. She knew that the workmen would be in possession the next day, and she wanted to have it all to herself once more.

She patted the books and said good-by to all her favorites. As she knelt to read the title of one of them she noticed the volume that she had found Peter reading their last memorable day together. She took it from its shelf and opened it idly. Pictures of sheep and diagrams of gates and fences did not interest her very much, and she was just about to close it up when she had a sudden idea.

She turned to the back of it, tore out a page that had nothing on it, and with Peter's own pencil, which she found on the floor under the sofa, she started to write.

When she had finished her note read as follows:

"Dear Peter:

"I am saying good-by to the Enchanted Kingdom, for I am going away next week. Of course I will write you letters to boarding school, but I wanted to leave this for you to find the first time you come back.

"We had lots of good times together, didn't we? I suppose the next time we see each other we won't want to pretend, so this is a last good-by to Lord Carrot Tops from

"THE PRINCESS OF THE
ENCHANTED KINGDOM."

When it was written, she folded it up and stuck it between the leaves of the sheep book. Then she stood up to go.

"Good-by, my wonderful Kingdom," she said. "I will always love you better than any room in the world." She tiptoed to the window and climbed out swiftly.

As she ran down the hill, her eyes smarted and she did not look back.

CHAPTER XXI

CONCLUSION

An ordinary train pulled in on an ordinary day at the Old Chester station. A man and a girl, with soft brown eyes blurred by unshed tears, entered the Pullman car and took the seats that the porter showed them. Then the car started again, and the girl leaned out of the window.

"They are all there," she said. "Harry, Mrs. Todd, Mildred and Alice, and Martha. I can't believe I'm really going away from them."

"But you are, little sister of mine; you are going to a brand new world, and I am anxious to hear what you and another little sister of mine are going to do in it."

"It's more her world than mine," the girl reminded him.

"Yes, just as this was more your world than hers, but she came to your world and liked it," the man replied. "Just as you are going to like her world."

"And before you know it, both worlds are going to be 'our world.'"

The girl, who was Janet, looked out of the window and smiled, and the train seemed to hurry them along.

THE END