JANET ARRIVES
Phyllis opened her eyes on Wednesday morning, and frowned as she heard
the rain beating down on the tin roof below her window.
"It has no business to rain to-day of all days," she said crossly;
"but, after all, it doesn't matter, for, rain or shine, Janet is
coming."
She looked through the open door into the room adjoining hers and
smiled. From her bed she could see the dainty white dressing table and
the soft-colored print of Raphael's Madonna hanging in its gold frame
beside it. Her own room, as her eyes traveled back to it, was shabby
in comparison, but that only made her smile the more.
"It's just too heavenly to be true," she whispered dreamily. "How
silly I've been to worry whether she will like it or not. Of course
she will, and oh, joy of joys, she will be here in less than, let me
see, eight hours." She jumped out of bed and in a few minutes she was
singing in her bath.
"Phyllis, Phyllis, if you don't stop acting like a crazy person I don't
know what I shall do," Miss Carter sighed later in the morning as
Phyllis, growing more and more excited as the minutes passed, flew
upstairs and down, upsetting everything in her effort to keep busy.
"I know, Aunt Mogs, but I can't help it. I shall probably die before
the train gets in," Phyllis confessed as she sat down at last and tried
to concentrate on a book. But the print danced before her eyes, and in
not more than a minute she was up again.
"I knew I'd forgotten something!" she exclaimed.
"What is it now?" her aunt inquired, smiling gently.
"Flowers. The ones I bought day before yesterday are all wilted. Oh,
I know you told me they would be, but don't say, 'I told you so,'
please."
"No, I won't. I'm almost glad they have wilted; they will give you
something to do. Hurry out and get some more, and be sure they are
buds this time."
Phyllis hurried to the nearest florist and then took as long as she
possibly could to select the roses. When she reached home she was
disgusted to find that she had been gone only twenty minutes. But the
morning passed somehow, and although Phyllis insisted upon a
ridiculously early start in case the traffic should delay them, they
were only a quarter of an hour ahead of train time.
The huge station was crowded with people, and Phyllis looked at them
doubtfully.
"Auntie Mogs, if Janet ever got lost in this mob we would never find
her in all this world," she said nervously.
"It might be a difficult task," Miss Carter agreed calmly, "but Tom is
with her, and it would be very hard to lose Tom even here."
"Oh, I was forgetting all about Tom." Phyllis laughed with relief.
"It would be hard to hide his six feet, wouldn't it? Oh, dear, that
sounds as though he were a centipede, but you know what I mean."
"I do sometimes, my darling,"--Miss Carter laughed into Phyllis's
eyes--"but sometimes, I must admit, you race too far ahead of me. Do
try and quiet down before Janet comes."
"Oh, but she loves me just the way I am," Phyllis announced airily,
"and so does Tommy. Look now, it's only ten minutes."
She kept her eyes fastened to the blackboard until the announcer called
the number of the track and wrote it down in his slow deliberate hand.
From that minute to the time when the first porter came up the stairs
and through the gate seemed an eternity, but at last Tom's head and
shoulders appeared above the crowd.
"Here they are, Janet," he called, but even that was not necessary, for
the twins had found each other, in spite of bobbing hats and
sharp-pointed umbrellas, and were in each other's arms. Phyllis, as
usual, was doing all the talking, and Janet, a little confused,
accepted it as a fitting ending to the amazing dream that had begun
that morning when she watched the Old Chester station fade into the
distance.
After a description of Phyllis, it is useless to give one of Janet, for
except for the difference in the expression of their eyes the girls
were the image of each other. Even the difference in their dress did
not disguise the startling resemblance, and people turned to stare and
then to smile as Phyllis's infectious laughter reached them.
"Wait here and I'll find a taxi," Tom directed, as they reached the
open rotunda that led to the street.
In a minute they were all comfortably seated in a cab and had joined
the procession of slow-moving vehicles that were trying to gain the
avenue.
"To think you are really here," Phyllis sighed, as though the greatest
event of her life were over.
"I'm not a bit sure that I am,"--Janet laughed. "I've been begging
Tommy to pinch me all the way down in the train. I thought surely I
would wake up any minute and hear Martha say, 'It's time to get up,
child.'"
"I didn't do it though, because I thought the other people in the train
might not understand," Tom said with amusement.
"Where is your dog?" Miss Carter asked suddenly, and Janet's face fell.
"Grandmother decided I mustn't bring Boru," she answered with a little
catch in her voice.
Her aunt took her hand impulsively and squeezed it. "But, my dear,
that is absolutely absurd. You will be miserable without him,
especially when everything is new to you. I will write up to Mrs. Page
to-night and ask her to have some one send him down by express as soon
as possible."
Miss Carter was a gentle little lady, but when she made up her mind to
a thing that thing was as good as accomplished.
"Oh, Auntie Mogs, that's awfully sweet of you," Janet said gratefully.
"I know I'll miss him awfully."
"I never heard of such a thing," Phyllis protested. "We never dreamed
you'd come without him. Why, I sent Sir Galahad to the hospital to
have him out of the way until Boru got used to his new house."
"Oh, but you shouldn't have done that," Janet protested. "Poor kitty,
he'll feel terribly abused."
"Well, he had a little cold and it really was the best place for him,
and of course I can go and see him any time. The hospital is only
around the corner. Tommy, what are you laughing at?"
"You two girls talk about your dog and cat just as if they were
children. Are you going to make household pets of all my livestock
when you come to the ranch next summer?"
"Of course," Phyllis and Janet answered, laughing.
"Now, don't bother Janet," Miss Carter interrupted before Phyllis could
say anything more; "she is busy looking at the city, and I know she
would rather do that than listen to you. We are on Fifth Avenue now,
dear, and that lovely building on your right is Tiffany's."
Janet looked out of first one window and then the other. It was all
very new and exciting to her. She had been to Boston several times,
but Boston, beautiful city that it is, is not New York.
"It's awfully full, isn't it?" she said at last, and Tom laughed
heartily.
"Don't you like it?" Phyllis asked in dismay.
"Oh, of course I do, but somehow I wish it would stand still for just a
minute and give me a chance to look at it."
"I'm afraid it will never do that, my dear," Miss Carter laughed. "But
you won't find it noisy where we are, and I know you will love the
park."
"Do look," Phyllis pointed towards the west. "It's clearing, I knew it
would and here's the park."
Central Park is a refreshing sight to see after the noise and confusion
of the streets, and to Janet's eyes the soft green of the grass and the
great trees, resplendent in their autumn dress, was comforting indeed.
The sun was just visible between two sullen gray clouds, but it only
peeked out for a minute and then as though it were depressed by what it
saw, it hurried to bed.
"I don't blame it," Phyllis said, as she watched the last gleam of red
fade into the clouds.
Janet nodded in perfect understanding. It was not the last time that,
without the aid of words, the Page twins were to understand and share
each other's thoughts.
The taxi drew up at the house at last, and Annie hurried to the side
walk to help with bags. She was a servant that Miss Carter had had for
many years and she was greatly excited over Janet's arrival.
Phyllis dashed up the stairs, pulling Janet behind her, and instead of
waiting even for a minute in the living-room she hurried her up the
second flight of stairs and threw open the door of her room.
"Oooooh!" Janet stood perfectly still and looked and looked. To
Phyllis it seemed as though she were never going to speak, then at last
she said, "Oh!" again and sank down on the soft bed.
"Like it?" Phyllis tried to make her voice sound cool, but she did not
succeed in keeping the eagerness out of it.
"It's fairyland!" Janet exclaimed. "Oh, Phyllis, I never dreamed
anything could be half so beautiful."
Phyllis gave a great sigh of relief. "Thank goodness for that," she
said, laughing, "and now come and see the rest of the house."
Janet followed from one charming room to another, but she was
speechless until she came to the library--a big brown room, filled with
books, low comfy chairs and shaded lamps.
"Phyllis, it's just too wonderful to be true!" she exclaimed.
"Well, it's not the Enchanted Kingdom,"--Phyllis laughed--"but we hope
it will be a substitute."
For the rest of the day Janet tried to say some of the things that
seemed to be bursting her heart. It was not as easy for her to enthuse
as it was for Phyllis, but her eyes shone in the firelight as she sat
beside Tommy on the sofa and listened to her aunt make plans for the
coming week.
Phyllis need have had no fears, for there was not a moment spared in
regret for the four-poster bed. How could there be, when such a pink
and white nest awaited her? She undressed that night still in a half
dream.
"Janet, have you gone to sleep yet?" Phyllis's voice called through
the dark, long after the house had quieted down for the night.
Janet sat up and laughed joyously.
"No," she whispered back, "I'm afraid to."