The Twins in the South Part 17

"There's nothing more to tell. I wept into somebody's opera cape until it was time to go home, and during the drive I fell asleep on Ted's shoulder. I didn't think he understood until the next day, when Mother asked me if I'd had a good time. I said I had, and after breakfast Ted took me to the village and filled me full of ice cream, and on the way home he explained very gently what a nice thing a sister could be, a sort of little comfort, you know, and then on the other hand, what a dreadful little bore. I didn't need the talk, I'd learned my lesson. I stay at home now and fix the studs in their dress s.h.i.+rts when they want to go out, and if it's cold I stay up and make hot soup for them, but I never ask to tag along."

Nothing was said after Gladys stopped, for a minute or two. The girls were all thinking hard. Most of them had brothers or cousins and they all understood.

"Perhaps if I'd treated my brother like that," Gwen said with a laugh that held sadness in it, "he might have been a better friend of mine now than he is; but I always tagged along and he got thoroughly sick of me.

I dance about as well as your cross-eyed friend, Glad."

Phyllis was thinking of Tom, and being thankful that he was so much older than she and Janet, that they had never had the chance to make Gwen's mistake.

Janet was thinking of Peter and wondering. Peter Gibbs was a boy she had known back in Old Chester. They had shared the Enchanted Kingdom together, and he had taken the place of her brother long before Tom had arrived to claim the right. Janet was fonder of Peter than she really knew, and she found herself suddenly wondering if he had outgrown her, now that he was in college. She made a firm resolve to take Gladys's advice.

"Well, thank goodness, Chuck isn't in college yet," Daphne said suddenly, and Sally and the Twins laughed.

Then, as so often happens, when a room-full of people have been quietly thinking, everyone began to talk at once. They dismissed the subject of brothers and returned to the holidays. They made plans for all of the days, except Thanksgiving Day itself.

"Something's bound to happen then," Gwen a.s.sured them. "Miss Hull will probably ask one of the cla.s.ses to entertain."

"You know it will be the Seniors," Poppy replied reproachfully, "and what we will do at so short notice I'm sure I don't know." This in Poppy's complaining tones made the girls all laugh.

"Cheer up, Poppy, we'll all help you, no matter what," Sally promised.

"We might have a real old-fas.h.i.+oned pillow fight between the wings; that would liven us up a bit," she suggested. "I admit I feel rather depressed myself."

CHAPTER XVI-More Plans and Plots

But the plans for Thanksgiving Day were not entrusted to the Seniors as they expected. That night after dinner Miss Hull got up from her place at the Senior table, before she rang the little silver bell that always signalled the close of each meal.

Instant silence fell over the dining room, and the girls all turned to her expectantly.

"Girls," she began, "I was more than sorry to have to ask you to give up your holidays, and I want to say how much I appreciate the splendid way you have all accepted the disappointment. You must make your own plans for most of the time. You are free to do as you like. I would suggest a picnic for one of the days. It is really not a bit too cold and it would be a good way to keep out of doors.

"On Thanksgiving day, I want you to be my guests at a Thanksgiving dinner." The girls clapped their hands enthusiastically but Miss Hull had not finished.

"Just one more thing, girls please," she went on. "Remember the girls that have the measles. They are sick in the Infirmary, and although you must remain on their account, just think how very much worse it is for them, and do what you can for them. Notes are always welcome when one is in the Infirmary, aren't they?" she turned to Poppy.

"Yes, Miss Hull, most anything is," Poppy replied, a worried expression on her usually placid face. She was wondering whom she could persuade to write to the Red Twins and Ethel Rivers. Kitty Joyce and Louise Brown she knew would be well taken care of. Miss Hull had a way of making a suggestion, and then leaving it to the Seniors to see that it was carried out.

The same thought was reflected on the face of every Senior. Gwen and Poppy found their solution in the Soph.o.m.ore cla.s.s. Their own particular pets could be depended on they know.

"We'll ask them after dinner," Gwen said, and Poppy nodded.

So, soon after dinner found the same group in one corner of the ballroom that had discussed the subject earlier in the day.

"We'll write, all of us," Ann announced, speaking as was her right as the oldest girl. She had been at Hilltop a year longer than any of the others. "And what's more, we will write really nice notes." She looked around the circle defiantly as though she dared any one of them to contradict her.

"We will," Prue agreed.

"Suppose so, though what I'll say, I'm sure I don't know," Gladys scowled at the prospect.

"Thank goodness, the measles stayed in the new wing. I hope none of us catch it," Sally remarked. "What else are we to do besides writing the notes?"

"I don't know. We'll have to think of something," Gwen replied.

"Why don't we serenade them?" Daphne suggested. "It's always fun to hear people sing, especially if they sing all the songs you like."

"Good idea," Poppy agreed. "We'll do that very thing. We'll sing some of the old plantation melodies and the old ballads that Miss Hull loves.

Daphne, you and Janet come down to Seniors' Retreat in the morning. You have awfully pretty voices, both of you. I heard you singing in church, last Sunday."

"Sure it wasn't Phyl?" Ann inquired. "If you can tell the Twins apart in church, when their heads are bent reverently over their prayer books, you are doing more than I can."

Poppy laughed and pointed to the tiny crescent pin that Phyllis was still wearing.

"I couldn't at first," she admitted. "But Phyllis took off her coat and I saw that pin, then I watched them when the next hymn began, and she never opened her lips, so I said to myself, 'Janet has the voice.'"

"And, of course, Taffy looks as if she ought to sing, and she does,"

Gwen added.

"She looks like Diana at the chase, with a bow in her hand, too," Sally teased, "but she can't shoot."

Daphne blushed ever so slightly. "What an unfortunate turn the conversation has taken," she drawled. "Poppy, we will meet you in the morning, of course any time you say."

Janet nodded. "Love to, Poppy, I think it will be a lot of fun," she said.

"It's awfully decent of Miss Hull to give us a party," Sally remarked.

"I know it will be something rather nice, she always does things so beautifully!" She paused and added after a second, "Wish we could do something for her."

It was only a germ of an idea, but it grew with amazing speed.

"I wish we could, too," Gwen said first.

Then Prue added, "So do I."

The rest nodded and it was Sally's turn again.

"Well, why don't we?" she said.

"Let's."

"Good idea."

"But what?" came the replies.

"I don't exactly know," Sally admitted. "The idea just popped into my head."

"A serenade," someone suggested.

"Not nice enough."