The Twins in the South

  CHAPTER VII--Poetry and Prose

  Janet ran down the hall, waving a letter over her head.

  "Sally, Phyllis, where are you?" she called.

  The door of Sally's room opened, and Prue came out carrying a drawerpiled high with clothes.

  "Hello there!" she called. "Come and help me move."

  "Oh, then you know Daphne is coming? I just had a letter from her andI'm trying to find Sally and Phyllis," Janet replied, taking one end ofthe heavy drawer.

  "You'll find them all in there." Prue nodded her head towards the doorshe had just left. "They are stuffing my peanut butter, eating mycrackers and making fun of my poetry."

  "Why, Prue, I didn't know you wrote," Janet exclaimed.

  "I don't," Prue told her; "that is, not for publication, but every oncein a while I put things down on paper and somehow or other they rhyme."

  "Why didn't you show me any of them?"

  "They weren't good enough. I'd never have let those wild Indians seethem. Just as I was packing, my notebook fell out of my desk, and a lotof papers I had in it, scattered to the floor. And, of course, Sallypounced on them."

  "Poor Prue," Janet sympathized.

  They were walking slowly down the hall carrying the drawer between them.

  "Oh, that's not the worst of it; as I told you, they are eating my foodand laughing at my most beautiful thoughts, and to think I'm going toroom with Glad and Ann. I suppose I'll have no peace."

  "Better start writing poetry about them and their pet failings," Janetsuggested. "If you wrote an ode to the freckles on Glad's nose, she'dprobably keep very still in the future."

  "Oh, good idea! I'll do that very thing!" Prue exclaimed.

  They reached the room at the end of the hall and Prue paused to open thedoor.

  "The Countess's Room," she announced.

  "Oh, what a nice name. I didn't know you called it that."

  "We don't, but Miss Hull does," Prue corrected. "You see the beautifulCountess de Something Something, Camier, I think it was, came to visitColonel Hull, and she had this room; so it's been called her room eversince.

  "Oh, I think that's awfully nice; Phyllis will be crazy about it. Wonderwho slept in our room?"

  Janet looked around the big room with interest. It was plenty largeenough to accommodate three beds. Two of them were cots, the third wasan enormous four-poster. It looked worthy indeed to be the couch of aCountess. She was so busy exclaiming over the tester, with its glazedchintz ruffle, that she did not see the sudden gleam in Prue's eye. Sheeven forgot to make any more inquiries about the possible celebrity thathad slept in her own room.

  They dumped the contents of the drawer onto the bed and then carried itempty back to Sally's room.

  As they paused at the door, a shout of laughter greeted them, and theyheard Glad exclaim:

  "Oh, do listen to this," she cried: "'The smoky darkness of a richEgyptian night.'"

  Prue walked into the room, followed by Janet.

  "Prue, dear, didn't you mean a Pittsburgh night?" Ann asked provokinglyas she finished spreading a cracker with as much peanut butter as itcould hold.

  Prue did not deign a reply. Instead she swooped down upon theunsuspecting Ann and took her carefully spread cracker away from her.

  "Peanut butter is bad for freckles, darling," she said without a traceof ill-humor in her voice. "Prue will eat it."

  There was a scuffle and the cracker was eventually ground undersomebody's heel. When peace was restored, Janet flourished her letteronce more above her head.

  "From Daphne?" Phyl cried, recognizing the writing.

  "Yes; she's coming today, but how did you find it out?"

  "Miss Hull called me down after mail, and told me," Sally explained."She gets in about five-thirty, just in time for dinner."

  "Oh, I wish we could go to the station," Janet exclaimed.

  "Afraid we can't do that," Sally replied, "but we can go down to thegate."

  "Oh, good! Then when we see her carriage we can hop aboard," Phyllissaid.

  "To think she'd really be here tonight!" Janet cried. "Funny, beautifulTaffy."

  "Do tell us about her," Gladys demanded.

  "Yes, do," Ann and Prue echoed.

  The three girls looked at each other.

  "You tell them, Sally," Janet said, but Sally shook her head.

  "No, Jan, Taffy's more yours than ours," she replied, and Phyllisnodded.

  "Go ahead," she encouraged. "If we were talking about Sally I'd bespokesman."

  "Preserve my character," laughed Sally.

  "Oh, don't worry; they'd never learn the truth from me," Phyllis saidairily.

  "We know all there is to know about Sally," Prue exclaimed.

  "Yes, Jan, tell us about this Daphne. She has a lovely name," Ann added.

  "Well, it exactly suits her," Janet began, "only we call her Taffybecause she has a mop of hair that looks exactly like taffy candy, therich yellow kind, and her eyes are green, just the color of the sea,when you look straight down into it on a misty day, and her cheeks arelike rose petals, not bright pink, but a soft, delicate tint, and hercheeks are ivory white, like cream. She has long slender hands and themost wonderful voice you ever heard; it's soft and furry; she alwaysdrawls; in fact, Taffy always looks and talks as if she were halfasleep. Her eyelashes are so long and heavy that they almost cover hereyes. When she opens them wide she looks as if she were surprised atwhat she saw. She's got the keenest sense of humor you ever heard of,and when she says a thing it sounds twice as funny as if anyone else hadsaid it, because of her queer little laugh."

  Janet stopped and looked suddenly very self-conscious while the girlslooked at her with a new expression in their eyes.

  "Why, Jan," Prue exclaimed. "You're a poet."

  "I feel as if I'd been listening to a fairy story," Gladys said.

  "With the lovely Daphne as the enchanted princess," Ann added dreamily.

  "I never realized before how really lovely Daphne was," Sally laughed."Honestly, Jan, I felt as if she was here in the room as you talked."

  Phyllis said nothing. She was curled up on one end of the bed, her headagainst Sally's pillows, her arms stretched above her. Her face wore anexpression of pride and ownership, but not surprise. Janet was her twin,and everything Janet did was perfect in her eyes. When other girlsadmired her, too, Phyllis just sat back and smiled contentedly.

  "You'll make a great old quartette," Gladys laughed.

  "Sort of a mutual admiration society," Prue added.

  "Phyl, I'd think you'd be jealous of this Daphne," Ann laughed. "Won'tyour nose be out of joint when she arrives?"

  The twins stared at her in blank amazement.

  "Jealous!" they said together. "Why, how perfectly silly."

  "You might as well say that I might be jealous of Sally," Janetchuckled.

  "No," Phyllis shook her head, "Jan and I couldn't possibly be jealous.We're twins, you see."

  The little phrase ended all argument and doubt as it always did. Thegirls realized with something of a start how close the bond between themwas, and they felt a glow of pride around their hearts. Affection likethis was worthy of a place at Hilltop, and could be pointed out withpride.

  "My Aunt Jane's Poll-parrot!" Sally exclaimed, jumping up. "Look at thetime," and she held out her wrist watch. "Ten minutes past five. Ifwe're going to meet Taffy we'd better hurry."

  They found sweaters and started off down the long avenue that lead tothe gate.

  Prue turned to Gladys and Ann.

  "Are the twins elected?" she inquired.

  "They are," they replied. "To the very heart of Hilltop," Ann added.

  They sauntered back to their room.

  "Look at my beautiful bed that a perfectly good Countess has slept in,"Gladys wailed, as she saw the contents of three drawers piled high onthe blue and white counterpane.

  "Oh, never mind that," Prue brushed some of the things aside and satdown on the edge of the bed.

  "Speak
ing of Countesses," she began, "Janet wanted to know if anybodyreally important had ever slept in their room, and I thought it was agood chance for a ghost story."

  "Of course, the very thing," Gladys agreed decidedly.

  "We might as well have a good one while we're about it. You'd bettermake it up, Prue," Ann suggested.

  Gladys had been gazing out of the window; she turned half way aroundnow.

  "Don't have to make it up," she said slowly. "There's a perfectcracker-jack about a pretty lady popping off the balcony when theybrought in her lover who had been shot in a duel."

  "Which balcony was it?" Prue demanded.

  Gladys's eyes twinkled. "Well, it might just as well have been theirs,"she said.

  The other two nodded in understanding.