TWINS INDEED
"Snow!" Every girl looked up as Janet spoke, and a ripple of laughter
ran around the room.
"Janet, did you say that?"--Miss Baxter looked over her thick lens
glasses and focused her pale blue eyes on Phyllis's twin. An expectant
silence fell over the room.
"Yes, Miss Baxter,"--Janet rose to answer.
Miss Baxter tapped the desk with her long and callous forefinger.
"Phyllis, I am quite aware that you are answering, and I might add that
this is not the place to practice silly jokes."
A sudden, though quickly suppressed, snort came from behind Sally's
desk, and even Muriel, sitting beside Phyllis, giggled.
"Janet, will you please stand up and speak for yourself?" Miss Baxter
peered a little over the desk, and her face set in hard, uncompromising
lines.
A month had passed since the last chapter, and Janet had found a very
particular place in the school for herself. Once on the right road it
had been only a matter of a few days before the girls accepted her, and
only a matter of weeks before she was one of the leading members of her
class. Her quiet humor and downright frankness made her a welcome
addition to the school, as Sally had prophesied.
She and Phyllis had discovered how easy it was to pass for each other,
and further to confuse people they began to dress alike. Miss Gwynne,
the history teacher, had made a mistake in their identity in class one
day and had laughed about it later to the rest of the teachers. Only
Miss Baxter refused to find the story amusing. She had called it
impertinence, and then and there made up her mind that the same trick
should never be played on her.
This morning her near-sightedness had confused her, but she was certain
that they were trying to trick her and she would have none of it.
"But I am Janet, and I am standing up." Janet had caught some of
Daphne's drawl and used it when she remembered to.
Miss Baxter smiled coldly but triumphantly.
"Very well, if you persist in being childish, then I will ask Phyllis
to stand also."
Phyllis rose, and the girls waited breathlessly.
"Come to my desk, please," Miss Baxter continued.
They obeyed her, Phyllis slipping her watch with its tell-tale initials
into her pocket as she walked beside Janet to the front of the room and
up to the desk that was raised on a small platform.
Miss Baxter surveyed them with grim determination as she might have a
knotty problem in mathematics. She would not give heed to the small
voice within her that counseled care. Miss Baxter never gave heed to
anything but her own faultless judgment.
"You," she said, pointing to Phyllis, "are Janet and you,"--she frowned
at Janet--"you are Phyllis."
The twins did not reply. They stood before her in respectful silence.
"Now, Janet,"--not being contradicted, Miss Baxter continued with even
more certainty--"you, I believe, spoke." She looked at Phyllis.
"I was the one that spoke," Janet said quietly. "I said 'snow.' It is
snowing, you know."
"We are not discussing the weather." Miss Baxter tried to silence the
room with the weight of her scorn but she failed.
"Very well then, Phyllis, you may report to me after school." She
prided herself that the interview had been most successful.
"Where, Miss Baxter?" Phyllis inquired.
Miss Baxter gasped.
"Janet, is it necessary for you to interrupt?"
"I wasn't interrupting," Janet protested.
Miss Baxter looked from one to the other of them and realized very
slowly and very painfully that she had made a mistake.
"Go back to your seats," she said scornfully. "The matter is too
trivial to discuss."
The twins did not smile; they merely walked backed to their seats and
went on studying.
The bell rang not many minutes later.
"My Aunt Jane's poll parrot, was there ever such a scream. My sides
ache." Sally hugged Janet in the excess of her delight.
"Look out for rocks ahead," Eleanor warned. "Old Ducky Lucky doesn't
like to be laughed at."
"Bless you," Phyllis protested; "we didn't laugh at her, did we, Jan?"
"Certainly not. I'd never do anything so disrespectful," Janet
replied. "We merely answered when we were spoken to."
"While Ducky Lucky thought you were answering for each other,"--Sally
chuckled. "Oh, why didn't somebody give me a twin. I never realized
the thrilling possibilities until now."
"I wish you'd put on your watch again, Phyl," Rosamond said. "I feel
so foolish when I look at you sometimes. You're not really alike but I
never can remember which is which."
Phyllis slipped her watch on, and all the girls sighed with relief.
Daphne joined the group.
"I offer my congratulations," she drawled. "Sort of a dual role you
were playing. Old Ducky Lucky was more ducky lucky-ish than ever. I
could hear her even from where I sit."
"Just why do you call her Ducky Lucky?" Janet inquired. "I've always
wondered."
The girls turned to Sally.
"It's a long time ago," she began, "since I christened her, but it had
something to do with the way she said, 'Tut, tut'; her teeth, you know,
aren't always tight and the effect sounded just like ducky lucky, and
so I called her that. It's years ago, and of course they fit better
now, but the name still sticks."
"Oh, Sally,"--Janet was convulsed--"she did make a noise just like that
to-day, only I didn't realize."
"But I did,"--Phyllis laughed--"and it was all I could do to keep from
giggling."
"Thank goodness math. is the last period; perhaps she'll have time to
forget," Janet said just as the bell rang.
"Don't count on it," Rosamond called over her shoulder as she went back
to her desk. "Ducky Lucky never forgets."
But mathematics class was uneventful. Miss Baxter ignored the twins,
much to their delight, for they did not have to answer a single
question.
"Sally, you're coming home with us this afternoon, aren't you?" Janet
called as the bell rang.
"Yes; can you wait a half a shake?" Sally replied. "I have to take a
paper over to Miss Simmons, but I'll meet you on the steps."
"Snow!"--Phyllis laughed as she and Janet waited for her a few minutes
later--"what a lot you were responsible for to-day. Jan, whatever
possessed you to say that out loud?"
Janet shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know; I suppose I was just
thinking out loud. I was awfully thrilled when I saw it anyway."
"Well, I may be your twin," Phyllis mused, "but I don't pretend to
understand you. We did have fun with Ducky Lucky, though, didn't we?"
"Yes, but she could have gotten beautifully even with us if she had
wanted to,"--Janet laughed.
"How?" Phyllis inquired, but Sally's appearance cut short the
conversation before Janet had a chance to explain.
They walked home through the park, and Phyllis insisted upon going in
to see Akbar. As they entered the lion house, a small body thrust
itself upon her and shouted gleefully:
"I've found you at last! I knew I would. Where have you been all this
awful long time? I've looked for you every single day."
It was Donald, and Phyllis was delighted to see him. She introduced
him to Sally and Janet, and then waited to hear what he would say.
Donald looked at her twin and then at her.
"Vers two of you," he said gravely.
[Illustration: "Vers two of you," he said gravely]
"Oh, you darling!" Phyllis exclaimed. "Don't look so disturbed. We're
only twins."
Donald did not reply, he was busy looking at them again.
"Do you think you could tell us apart?" Janet inquired.
He nodded solemnly.
"I fink I could," he replied, "because, you see, her eyes are like ve
brownie's--all soft and queer"--he smiled engagingly at Phyllis--"but
yours"--he turned to Janet--"have all kinds of funny little gold fings
that make vem all shiny. But I couldn't tell you apart if you shut
your eyes, I don't fink."
"Oh, Donald, you're a great boy!" Phyllis laughed.
"I think he's wonderful," Sally exclaimed, "and the most amazing part
of it is, he's right, Janet has little golden flecks in the brown part
of her eye and you haven't. What a way to tell you apart, but I
promise not to tell."
"Well, not Ducky Lucky anyway," laughed Janet.
Donald's nurse came to look for him, and bore him off in spite of his
protests.
Phyllis described her last meeting with him and confessed to Sally that
it had been at his house that she had met Muriel's Chuck.
"Oh, by the way," Sally suddenly remembered, "Muriel is going to give a
party. Quite an affair, I understand, and we are all going to be
invited. I suppose that Mr. Chuck will be there and a lot of other
boys; have you heard anything about it?"
Phyllis nodded; she and Muriel had forgotten their quarrel and were
seemingly on good terms again, although Sally had taken the place in
Phyllis's heart that Muriel had occupied the year before. With Janet,
they made up what the rest of the girls called the jolly trio. Daphne
occasionally joined them, much to Janet's delight, and many were the
afternoons that they had spent together in the snuggery, a room that
the twins had fitted up to suit their particular tastes at the top of
the house.
They were on their way up to it to-day when Miss Carter heard them and
came out of the drawing-room.
"Late for luncheon," she chided. "You will all be very ill if you are
not careful. Were you kept in?" she questioned, laughing.
"No, Auntie Mogs. Phyl just decided she had to see Akbar," Janet
explained.
"Well, I don't think that was very nice to you, Sally dear," Miss
Carter protested. "Do hurry and eat your luncheon. I told Annie to
keep it hot for you, and, oh, by the way, there are some letters for
you on the hall table." She returned to the drawing-room where she was
listening to the head of a new charity who was trying to secure her
promise of support.
Janet dashed to the table and came back with the letters.
"Both alike and they're from town," she said as she opened hers.
"Muriel's invitations!" Phyllis exclaimed. "And, oh, Sally, do
listen--it's to be a masquerade."
"What luck, oh, oh, why haven't I got a twin!" Sally wailed.
The discussion of costumes occupied the rest of the afternoon, and they
must have reached a happy conclusion for Sally went home singing, and
every time Phyllis and Janet looked at each other that evening they
burst out laughing.