THE ENCHANTED KINGDOM
"If the ice didn't choke up the inlet I would row you over to your
kingdom, Princess," Peter said the next morning, as Janet took her
place beside him in the carriage. "It would seem ever so much more
like old times, wouldn't it?"
Janet nodded and laughed.
"Indeed it would. I wonder where my old row-boat is. I left it on the
beach."
"And I found it there, very much the worse for wear, and in sad need of
a home," Peter continued for her. "So I towed it over to our landing,
and now it is high and dry on the rafters in the barn, along with my
canoe."
"Oh, Peter, do you remember the day you taught me to paddle?" Janet
asked, laughing.
"I certainly do. I wasn't perfectly sure that we would ever get home
again; that storm came up so suddenly."
"But we did, just in time to be arrested." They both laughed so hard
at the memory of that never-to-be-forgotten day that Phyllis, in the
back seat with Auntie Mogs, called,
"What are you two roaring over?"
"Oh, something funny that happened last summer," Janet replied.
"Haven't you ever told your sister about it?" Peter inquired, and Janet
shook her head.
"Then I'll tell you, Phyllis," Peter promised; "but I'll wait until we
are on the scene of action."
"There are a lot of things I want to ask you,"--Phyllis laughed, "and a
lot of places I want to see. Jan's no good at telling stories, she
leaves out all the most interesting part."
"Well, you shall have a true and minute description from me, never
fear," Peter told her.
"Let me drive," Janet begged a minute later, and Peter changed places
with her, and for the rest of the drive he talked to Phyllis and Auntie
Mogs, for Janet was too taken up with the spirited team to have any
time for conversation.
The Enchanted Kingdom presented a strangely orderly view. The road was
trim and the gravel raked smoothly. The barns and outhouses were
painted white, and they looked surprisingly clean against the gray sky.
The house itself had lost all its rakish and forlorn look, though it
retained, in spite of paint, its inviting air of mystery.
Gone were the dilapidated boards that had barred the windows, and white
curtains fluttered in their stead. Green box-trees guarded each side
of the white door, whose brass knocker shone in proof of the care
lavished upon it.
"Well, what does the Princess think about it?" Peter demanded,
delighted at Janet's look of surprise.
"I'd never have recognized it," she confessed. "What a lot you have
done to it!"
"Come and see the inside. That's the best of all," Peter told her.
Mrs. Todd welcomed them from the doorway, and the tour of inspection
began at once, for Janet would not hear of taking off her hat and coat
until she had seen everything.
"All right; we'll leave the kingdom till the last," Peter said, as he
followed Mrs. Todd from room to room.
Beautiful old furniture stood where Janet remembered the sheeted ghosts
that had frightened her so many times. Gay chintz curtains vied with
the copper and brass to liven the rooms that had always been shrouded
in darkness. Upstairs the bedrooms were a happy combination of rag
rugs and wonderful big beds, some of them so high that steps were
necessary.
Peter had a den adjoining his room, and it was filled with his pet
books and pictures. He exhibited it with pride, and Janet saw him slip
his arm around Mrs. Todd and give her a hug when he thought no one was
looking.
At last only the Enchanted Kingdom remained, and when Janet entered it
she found herself alone. Perhaps it was just as well--the sight of the
old rows of books, the table and the window-seat where she had spent so
many happy hours sent tears to her eyes, and she had to blink hard to
keep them from falling.
She sat on the floor, scorning the comfy chairs, and pulled out book
after book; each one was in its same place, and she patted them all as
though they were alive.
After a long time Peter came in to find her. Mrs. Todd had sent him to
tell her that luncheon was ready, but when he found her sitting on the
floor, he forgot his message and dropped down beside her.
They were both very late for luncheon.
So many things filled the days that followed that a whole volume would
be required to chronicle them. Janet and Phyllis liked the day before
Christmas best of all.
Things began early in the morning.
"Get up, lazy bones!" Janet shook Phyllis, deaf to her protests. "You
can't lie in bed this morning," she admonished.
Phyllis sat up and opened two sleepy eyes and yawned, then, memory
asserting itself, she jumped out of bed with one spring.
"Of course I can't," she cried. "We have to go and get the Christmas
tree. I was forgetting."
"Look out of the window," Janet directed.
Phyllis looked. The ground was covered with snow, and the world, as
far as she could see anyway, was decked in its Yuletide white.
They hurried with their dressing and, much to Martha's concern, with
their breakfasts as well.
"Here they come!" Phyllis cried, "and, oh, Jan, they are in a sleigh.
I can hear the bells."
"Oh, I hoped the snow would be deep enough!" Janet exclaimed; "and it
must be. Three cheers for old Jack Frost!"
They answered Peter's whistle by appearing at the door, and he and Jack
Belding jumped down from the sleigh to greet them. Jack Belding was a
school friend of Peter's. He had come to Old Chester several days
before. He was a tall, lanky youth with nondescript hair and eyes, but
a sense of humor that would have assured him a welcome in any company.
Phyllis and Janet had liked him at once, much to Peter's relief and his
own secret satisfaction. He always addressed them as, "You, Janet, or
you, Phyllis," and then shut his eyes until the right one came, for he
could not tell the one from the other.
"Was there ever such a day?" Phyllis demanded as she jumped on to the
big sleigh with Peter's help.
"Never in all this world," he replied seriously.
They started off at a smart gait, stopping at the rectory for Alice and
Mildred Blake and at the Waters' for Harry. Then away they went along
an old back road that wound up into the hills.
When they stopped they were all glad to get out and stretch. The girls
walked up and down to get warm, and the boys made short work of
chopping down a tall bushy Christmas tree.
The ride back was exciting, for they had to hold the slippery tree on
the sleigh and stay on themselves. As Janet was driving at top speed
this was not easy, but they reached the little church at last and
carried the tree triumphantly into the Sunday-school room.
Then they flocked into the rectory for luncheon. Janet and Peter
dropped behind.
"What does it make you think of?" Peter asked, laughing.
"Don't," Janet pleaded; "it's still too awful to remember. If I
thought to-night was going to be anything like _that_ night I would go
straight home and go to bed."
"Don't you worry. It won't, Princess," Peter replied protectingly.
After luncheon the fun began. They all set to and trimmed the tree,
Phyllis, by common consent, was master of ceremonies, and they all
hurried to do her bidding.
"Jack, if you eat _all_ the popcorn strings I don't see what we shall
have left for the tree," she complained once.
"Sorry," Jack apologized, "but that's one failing I have; in fact, I
might add that it is the only one, without fear of boasting. Put me
near a string of popcorn and I just naturally find myself eating it,
and the funny thing is I don't like it unless it is strung." He spoke
with such gravity that the rest shouted with laughter.
"Very well," said Phyllis, "we will put you beyond temptation's way.
Go out and bring me back a whole lot of boughs. I want them for the
chancel."
"Do you mean it?"
"I do."
"Very well, but if I am frozen I hope you have the grace to be ashamed
of your heartlessness."
"Oh, I promise I'll be terribly ashamed," Phyllis called after him, as
he walked dejectedly from the room.
When the tree was finished, and the church had been decked with boughs
and holly, they all went home for a well-merited rest. The crown-event
of the day was still before them.
A party at the Enchanted Kingdom to which all the countryside had been
bidden.
And it was a party indeed!
Nothing could have been so totally different from Muriel's masquerade,
yet it rivaled it in fun. Phyllis and Janet wore dresses exactly
alike, and had the joy of playing their old tricks on a new company.
They danced and played games until twelve o'clock, and then Peter and
Jack took them home in the sleigh.
On Christmas Day they went again to Mrs. Todd's and found all their
gifts piled up under their little tree. Auntie Mogs had sent over even
the New York presents and the ones from Tom.
One little box for Phyllis was the greatest surprise of all. It
contained a very beautiful bracelet set with a single large sapphire,
and tied to it was a card which read--
"Merry Christmas to my girl, from Don"
"The darling," Phyllis said happily as she clasped it over her arm;
"what a wonderful gift!"
"Indeed it is, my dear," Auntie Mogs agreed, "but"--she added with a
smile, "I think you deserve it."
Jack looked at it gleefully. "Ha, ha!" he exclaimed, "now I can tell
them apart!"
He spoke with pride, but his fall was not far off, for before many
minutes had passed Phyllis had slipped the bracelet to Janet, and his
confusion was worse than ever.