Phyllis A Twin   By: Dorothy Whitehill

A Twin

by

DOROTHY WHITEHILL

Illustrated by Thelma Gooch

[Frontispiece: "It's easy," Chuck laughed, holding out his hand to Phyllis, "you are Don's girl."]

Publishers Barse & Hopkins New York, N. Y. Newark, N. J.

Copyright, 1920, by Barse & Hopkins

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I PHYLLIS II DON III FRIENDS IV JANET ARRIVES V SCHOOL VI TOM'S LAST DAY VII DAPHNE'S ADVICE VIII A CHANGE IN JANET IX TWINS INDEED X THE SCREENED WINDOW XI THE MASQUERADE XII CHUCK GUESSES RIGHT XIII A BLUE MONDAY XIV MISS PRINGLE XV A WHITE MITTEN XVI DON! XVII CHRISTMAS VACATION XVIII THE ENCHANTED KINGDOM XIX PHYLLIS'S "MATH" PAPER XX THE FAREWELL PARTY XXI CONCLUSION

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"It's easy," Chuck laughed, holding out his hand to Phyllis. "You are Don's girl" . . . . . Frontispiece

"She had never been made a fuss over except by Phyllis in all her life and she couldn't understand it"

"Vers two of you," he said gravely

"Something white caught her eye"

PHYLLIS, A TWIN

CHAPTER I

PHYLLIS

A glorious autumn day spread its golden sunshine over the city. In the parks the red leaves blazed under the deep blue sky, and the water in the lakes sparkled over the reflections of the tall buildings mirrored in their depths. People walked with a brisk step, as though they had but suddenly awakened from a long drowsy sleep to the coolness of a new, vigorous world.

In a house just off Fifth Avenue, a short distance from Central Park, all the windows were open to admit the dazzling sunshine. Soft white curtains fluttered in the crisp breeze, and the rooms were flooded with cool, yellow light.

Phyllis Page stood in the center of one of the rooms and looked critically about her. There was no need of criticism, for it was as nearly perfect as a room could be.

The walls were hung with dainty pink and white paper. A bed of ivory white, with carved roses at the head and covered with a sheer embroidered spread, filled one corner; a tall chest of drawers stood opposite, and a dressing table with a triple mirror was placed between the two windows.

A little to one side of the open grate was a tiny table just large enough to hold a bowl of pink roses. In all the room not a pin was out of place.

As Phyllis surveyed it all for perhaps the twentieth time that day, a look of disappointment cast a momentary shadow over her usually merry face.

"There isn't one single thing more to do," she complained. "Oh, dear, I do hope she likes it."

The suggestion of doubt made her hurry to her aunt's room on the floor below. She found Miss Carter sitting before an open fire reading.

"Auntie Mogs," she said, standing in the doorway, "suppose Janet doesn't like it? The room, I mean."

There was real concern in her voice, but in spite of it Miss Carter laughed.

"Why, Phyllis, you little goose, of course she'll like it. It's a dear room, and it will just suit her exactly. What put such a ridiculous notion into your head?"

"But, Auntie Mogs, it's so awfully different from her own room," Phyllis protested. "Perhaps she'll miss her big four posted bed and those ducky rag rugs. I would, I think," she hesitated.

Miss Carter laughed again.

"But that's exactly why Janet won't," she answered. "She has grown up with all those lovely old things and she is used to them. She has never seen anything like her new room and she will love it, I am sure. Just as you loved the dear old room we had at her house, only of course Janet won't go into such ecstasies as you did," she added with a smile.

She pulled her niece down to the arm of her chair and stroked her soft golden brown hair. But Phyllis's leaf brown eyes were still clouded with doubt.