JANET LEARNS HER NAME
"There's a package for you, Janet." A smiling face was thrust within
the partly open door.
"April fool," replied Janet, not looking up from her book for a moment.
Then with a twinkle in her blue eyes, she raised her hand impressively
and began to recite in sonorous tones the lines that she was learning.
"Exactly like Miss Sanders! Do it that way in class, Janet! I dare you!"
"I would, but it might hurt her feelings to do it in earnest as she
does. No, I want to read poetry like Miss Hilliard,--but I can't say
that I like to commit it. I want to pick out my own kind, Allie May."
Allie May came inside the door and leaned against it. "Well, Janet,"
she said, "I think that you might believe me when I tell you that there
is a package for you down in the office. Honest. No April fool. Miss
Hilliard said for me to tell you to come down. I don't know why she
didn't give it to me to bring up. Perhaps she wants to see you anyhow.
This is what she said: 'Janet has a box. Please tell her to come down
to the office.'"
"H'm. Lina and I had our light on after hours last night. But it was
not long, and we had a grand excuse. Lina lost a page of her short
story that she had to hand in this morning. Honestly, Allie May, is
there a package for me? I never had a box in my life except things sent
from the store." Janet had put her book down now and was on her feet
starting toward the door and her schoolmate.
"You haven't! Poor you! I hope that it's a grand cake with lots of good
things. Maybe the box was so big that Miss Hilliard knew I couldn't
bring it up!"
Allie May made big eyes as she linked her arm in Janet's and walked
with her to the top of the stairs.
"If it is, you shall have the first and the best out of it. But it
isn't. It's probably something brought here by mistake. Thanks, Allie
May."
Janet was half way down the long, dark staircase that led to the lower
hall when she finished her remarks. Allie May saw her friend's fluffy,
golden locks fly out in the wind created by the rapid descent. Smiling,
she went to her room, next to Janet's, somewhat struck with the fact
that Janet had never received a "box," that delight of a school-girl's
heart.
The lower hall was dark on this rainy first of April. None of the doors
were open, and Janet Eldon, slight, active girl of fourteen years,
stood poised on the lower step for a few moments, looking out through
the mullioned panes of the tall, wide door at the entrance. Eaves were
dripping and she heard the beat of the drops upon the tin roof of a
porch outside.
Eyes the color of brighter skies considered thoughtfully the prospect
till the sound of an opening door made them turn in another direction.
Quickly Janet stepped to the floor, rounding the newel by catching hold
of it and swinging herself around it. At the second door, down the hall
to her right, she presented herself.
It was Miss Hilliard, principal of this small school for girls to whom
Janet curtsied prettily. "Allie May said that you wanted to see me.
Miss Hilliard," she said.
"Yes, Janet. There is a package here in the office that must be meant
for you, yet the address is peculiar, to say the least. It is about the
size of the usual box that comes for the girls,--come in to see it for
yourself."
Miss Hilliard drew back from the door, admitting Janet, who went to the
table by the big desk. There a box of medium size reposed, a square
package, wrapped in heavy paper and well tied with cord.
"You will notice that the return address is with initials only, from
some hotel in Albany, New York," Miss Hilliard continued.
Janet stood close to the table, looking with interest at the package,
saying first, as she had said to Allie May, that there was "probably
some mistake". But she caught her breath as she looked at the address.
"Why--" she began. "Why, how _queer_!"
"Yes, isn't it? Rather pretty, though. Could that be your name, Janet?
There is no one else here,--there has _never_ been any one here by the
name of Eldon; and you will observe that the name of the school is
given, the correct address."
"I see."
Janet looked again in the upper left hand corner. The initials were
P.V.M. But it was the address which filled her with surprise. The
package was addressed to Miss Jannetje Jan Van Meter Eldon!
The longer she looked at it, the stranger it seemed. "Why, Miss
Hilliard, I don't understand it at all. Could it be some joke? Oh, I
just imagine that there is some mistake in addresses. Shall we open it?"
"Yes, Janet. But I shall be very busy for a while and have no time for
this. I will have it taken to your room and you may do the
investigating. I need not tell you to preserve the treasure intact if
it should be full of diamonds."
Janet looked up at the tall, slender woman beside her and laughed at
the suggestion. She was not afraid of Miss Hilliard, though many of the
girls were. Had not Janet been in this school since her sixth year? The
older woman's arm now drew her close and her cheek was laid for a
moment against Janet's hair.
"Now run along, child. Get back to your lessons and I will have this
sent upstairs by Oliver. There he is now, in the hall. Report to my own
room after dinner, Janet, and I shall be able to see you in your room
if necessary."
Through the partly open door they could see the janitor passing.
Summoned by Miss Hilliard, he came after the box immediately and
started up the stairs with it. Janet, holding Miss Hilliard's hand
looked up into the kind eyes and asked soberly, "Do you suppose that
really is my name, Miss Hilliard?"
"It is not impossible, Janet. You have always thought that the Janet
came from your grandmother's Scotch ancestry, haven't you?"
"Yes, Miss Hilliard. You know I have everything about her family and
pictures of my father from the time he was a baby."
"I hope that there will be something very interesting inside that box,
Janet,--but there is the bell now. I must go to the parlors in a
moment. I am expecting a call from one of our patrons this afternoon."
Miss Hilliard was now the gracious head of the school in her manner,
which had the dignity that usually accompanies such management.
Janet, too, made her departure with the formal curtsey which was the
custom of the school. Never in the presence of Miss Hilliard did the
girls forget their "manners". If so, they were instantly reminded of
them.
Mechanically Janet ascended the stairs; her thoughts elsewhere. A
caress from Miss Hilliard, rare, but expressing a real affection, was
always something to be remembered. Janet "adored" Miss Hilliard as she
occasionally said to Allie May Loring or Lina Marcy. Then, here was
this box. In her heart Janet felt that it was for her.
"That quaint old Dutch name!" she thought. "Can it be that my
mother--", but Janet grew confused. There was no use in conjecture. She
must open the box. How she hoped that it _was_ for her. The suggestion
of diamonds amused her. She had not lifted it and did not know its
weight. Probably it was heavy, because Oliver had been asked to carry
it up. No, Miss Hilliard usually had him do that.
On entering her room, Janet saw the box on the floor. No wonder. Her
table was full of books and papers. Her desk looked worse. Lina's coat
and hat were on one of the straight chairs, the dictionary reposed on
the other. If Miss Hilliard were coming up after dinner the room must
be made perfect. One thing, there were no odds and ends of clothing or
ornaments around. They were trained to keep such things in their
places. But Lina had had an errand and rushed off to class, not hanging
up her wraps as usual.
Janet gave a glance at her little alarm clock which occupied a
prominent place on the desk. It was very disappointing. She had exactly
two minutes before the next recitation. Did she know that poem, or
didn't she? Saying over and over again the new lines, Janet again ran
downstairs, the back stairs this time, to the recitation room.