“The person never lived that could silence me,” she said vaingloriously. “But I don’t think it was very nice of her to wait until Auntie Mogs left and then try to separate us.”
“We should have let Auntie Mogs stay at the hotel for a day or two as she wanted to,” Janet remarked thoughtfully.
“No; that would have been a kiddish thing to do; and after all, Jan., Miss Hull was really doing what she thought was right. As soon as I explained to her she was very nice about it. I like her tremendously,” she said.
“Well, I don’t,” Janet announced firmly. “She tried to separate us.”
“But she didn’t, dearest. It would take more than Miss Hull to do that.” Phyllis laughed into Janet’s serious eyes.
The Page twins after a summer in Arizona with their brother Tom, had come to Hilltop school. Their aunt, Miss Carter, had brought them from New York to the Virginia hills, but had returned almost at once, for they had arrived early that morning, and she had taken the afternoon train for home. It was six o’clock now, and from their window they could see the twilight creeping closer to the great old trees that grew in a thick protecting border around the school.
Hilltop was indeed well named. The white colonial building crowned the hill, and a roadway, straight as an arrow, and lined on either side with tall interlacing elms, ran down the gentle slope for a mile and a half until it joined the highway in the valley.
It had been a wonderful mansion in its day. Now a new wing had been added on, and many of the rooms had been divided and cut up into smaller ones, but the outside of the house had lost nothing of its old-world dignity and charm.
Janet and Phyllis stood in the little balcony and watched the shadows lengthen on the green below. They had each other so they were not unhappy, but the suggestion of a lump in their throats made them think a little forlornly of Auntie Mogs and the cheerful rooms of their New York house.
“I wish Sally would come,” Janet exclaimed. “I simply can’t wait to see her.”