AT THE RECTORY FOR TEA
The dining-room table at the rectory was laden with sandwiches and
baskets of cake. Mrs. Blake sat at one end pouring tea, and Mildred
and Alice took turns with the chocolate pot at the other.
Mrs. Blake had not been entirely truthful when she had said that she
was not going to give a real party, for the people who walked in and
out of the two rooms gave an air of festivity that was rivaled only
by fairs and weddings in Old Chester.
Miss Carter dressed in the palest of gray satin gowns was busy
renewing her many acquaintances, and Janet and Phyllis were the
center of a laughing group of girls and boys.
Phyllis had on a dainty afternoon dress of dark blue chiffon, which
contrasted oddly with the more elaborately made summer dresses on the
other girls.
Janet wore her customary white piqué dress with its broad belt of
black patent leather. Mrs. Page believed in simplicity, and as far
back as Janet could remember she had always owned just such a dress.
It served to wear to church and to the occasional meetings of the
Ladies' Aid Society that met in her grandmother's room.
She was conscious this afternoon that its plainness marked her among
the other girls, and she looked at Phyllis with just a touch of envy
in her soft brown eyes.
Aunty Mog from far across the room saw the look, and made a mental
note of it.
There was a very small percentage of boys in comparison with the
girls, but among these Harry Waters stood out. His hair was brushed
back sleek against his bullet-shaped head, and the dotted Windsor
tie, that his mother had insisted on his wearing, accentuated his
fatness.
Phyllis greeted him upon his arrival like an old friend and insisted
on his talking to her, although it was very apparent that Harry was
miserably embarrassed. Janet, who was busy at that moment talking
dogs to the old country doctor, watched them, and wondered that Harry
still carried with him his air of mystery. She determined to find
out what was the matter with him before the end of the afternoon.
She had not long to wait, before Harry gave her a clew.
He refused refreshments!
"But, Harry, surely you're going to have something," Mildred
insisted. She spoke more loudly than she had intended, and all eyes
turned toward her.
Poor Harry turned very red and stammered.
"But honestly, Mildred, I don't want it," he protested, almost in
tears.
"I don't know what is the matter with Harry," Mrs. Waters confided to
the women around her; "he won't eat a thing, and he's so quiet."
"But surely you'll have a piece of chocolate cake," Alice said and
she held a plate temptingly before him. But Harry was obdurate. He
shook his head, speech had left him minutes before, and looked about
him for a means of escape.
Janet beckoned to him, and when they saw their chance they slipped
into the pantry and took refuge on the back stairs.
"Now," Janet said sharply, "tell me what the matter is? I know
you're not sick."
"Gee, of course I'm not. Can't a fellow refuse food without all this
fuss?" Harry complained bitterly.
"Some could but not you; come on, tell me what's wrong. If you
don't, I'll guess anyway," Janet threatened.
Harry eyed her dejectedly.
"I suppose you will," he agreed. "Well, it's this then--I heard what
your sister said last night when you were coming back from the
station about--about--well, about me."
Janet thought for a minute and then she laughed. It was not an
unkind laugh however, and Harry reluctantly joined in.
"Is that why you refused refreshments?" she demanded, and Harry
nodded.
"And that's what I was doing out at Simpsons too," he added. "I was
walking to reduce. I didn't want to ride home, but, gee, she
wouldn't let me off--" he stopped abruptly, for some one was pushing
open the door. It was Phyllis.
"Here you are, you scamps!" she whispered. "I've been looking
everywhere for you. Changed your mind about that cake, Harry? I
brought you a piece in case you had."
Harry looked miserably from the cake in her hand to her laughing
eyes, and once more shook his head in refusal.
"All right then, I'll eat it." Phyllis broke the large piece in half
and handed one piece to Janet. "Here, Jan, you have to help me, and
now listen both of you. I've thought of the greatest idea that ever
was."
She sat down between them on the step, and like Janet, rested her
chin in her hand. They looked so much alike that Harry could not
help laughing.
"What's your idea?" Janet inquired.
"Harry, can you keep a secret?" Phyllis demanded.
"Sure I can. I'm not a girl," Harry answered defiantly.
"Now what do you mean by that?" Phyllis sat up very straight, her
eyes bright with a challenge.
"Well, you know girls can't keep secrets," he said crossly.
"Very well,"--Phyllis dismissed the subject airily and sat munching
her cake with evident relish.
"Aren't you going to tell us?" Harry asked sheepishly.
"No, not you,"--Phyllis smiled at him sweetly and winked roguishly at
Janet.
Harry got up and opened the door.
"All right, don't then," he said angrily. "You're just exactly as
bad as Janet," he added, and the door shut behind him with a bang.
Phyllis put her head on Janet's shoulder and laughed until she cried.
"Poor Harry; that's the very worst thing he could think of to say to
you." Janet laughed almost as hard as her sister. "I bet he is
eating everything in sight this minute. He heard you say he was fat
and--well, now you can understand why he wouldn't eat."
Phyllis was serious in a second.
"Was that really the reason!"
"Yes, but I shouldn't have told you." Janet was ashamed of having
betrayed a confidence.
"I'm glad you did," Phyllis said slowly, "and I'm sorry I teased him,
but really he shouldn't talk about girls that way, and my idea will
really be lots more fun if no one knows it except ourselves."
"What is it?" Janet inquired eagerly.
Phyllis lowered her voice.
"Grandmother told Auntie Mogs to ask any of these people to come to
our house to tea any afternoon she liked," she began; "to sort of
return this, you know. So she has asked them for Thursday. Now I
haven't talked to a single girl to-day that didn't say how different
we were and they made me furious until suddenly--" she lowered her
voice and the rest of the sentence was lost in the soft waves of
Janet's hair. It must have been amusing, for Janet's eyes sparkled
with suppressed merriment.
When they joined the others a few minutes later they both looked very
demure, so much so in fact that Auntie Mogs, who knew Phyllis
thoroughly, knew that they were planning some mischief.
Miss Clark had arrived during their absence and was apparently amazed
beyond speech at the striking resemblance between them.
"I have seen many twins in my time!" she exclaimed, "but I never saw
anything so remarkable! Why, you could never in the world tell them
apart."
"Oh, I think you could easily. They're not a bit alike," Alice said,
from the chocolate pot.
Phyllis looked at Janet, and a swift glance of understanding and
amusement passed between them.
"And, oh, Janet,"--Miss Clark was speaking again--"I almost forgot to
tell you that there is a letter in your box for you. Seems to me you
are getting lots of mail lately. I didn't recognize the handwriting."
Again Phyllis and Janet exchanged glances, and this time their looks
said as plainly as words "Peter."