"JANET."
"My Aunt Jane's poll parrot!" was all poor Sally could say.
"But she didn't have anything to do at home," Phyllis protested. "Oh, Sally, what is the matter with her, and what shall I do?"
"You'll come home with me first of all," Sally replied with determination; "then later in the afternoon we will go over to your house, as though nothing had happened, and perhaps we can persuade her to come out for a walk."
"All right, if you think that's best,"—Phyllis agreed to the plan, dismally. "But I warn you I won't be very good fun."
"If she would only come to her senses," Sally exclaimed.
In the meantime, Janet had hurried away from school. She did not want Phyllis to see her for, with that lump in her throat, she knew an explanation would mean tears, and Janet hated tears.
Her steps lagged before she had gone very far, and she walked on slowly, deep in an unhappy revery, too miserable to notice the quick footsteps that were rapidly gaining on her.
"Hello, Phyllis's twin!" The soft, half-laughing drawl was unmistakable, and Janet turned quickly, to see Daphne beside her.
"Hello," she answered slowly. No need to force a smile for her; she wouldn't be deceived by it.