"Not the Enchanted Kingdom?" Janet protested.
"No, that is almost exactly as you left it," Peter assured her.
"Oh, Jan, I can see the house," Phyllis called, as they left the tiny village behind them, and Janet's heart beat so fast as she recognized the two big chimneys that looked, in the twilight, as though they were swinging the widow's walk between them, that she thought she would surely suffocate.
Peter drew up to the old carriage block with a flourish, and they all jumped out. Martha was standing in the doorway to welcome them again. They said good night to Mrs. Todd and Peter, and promised to be ready when the carriage called for them the next day.
Janet walked up the garden path holding tight to Phyllis's hand, as though she feared to wake up. Everything in the house was exactly as she had left it. The old grandfather clock ticked out its steady song, and the polished table reflected the shining candlesticks as of old.
Janet looked at her grandmother's door half fearfully.
"Go upstairs and take off your wraps," Martha was saying, "and then come down. Your grandmother wants to see you before dinner."
Janet still held Phyllis's hand, as a few minutes later she knocked at that closed door.
Mrs. Page proped herself up on her elbow and surveyed her two granddaughters; her small bright eyes seemed more restless than ever. They roved all over the room.
"Well, what have you got to say?" she demanded in the old querulous tone.