Jane leaned back in her parlor car seat hugging her doll—a wonderful new one with flaxen hair turned up with a comb and dressed “like a lady”—quite content with the rate at which the train was speeding through the green fields and villages; while Christopher bobbed about from seat to seat, trying the view from each side of the train in turn and wishing he could look out on both sides at once.
There were very few passengers in the parlor car, for it was early in the season for summer visitors to go to the country. Besides the twins and their grandparents there were only three other passengers: two gentlemen who were very busy talking and paid no attention to any one else, and a sweet-faced lady with gray hair who sat at the other end of the car and who watched the children with great interest. She looked as if she would like to make friends with them.
After a while she took a candy box out of her satchel and catching the twins’ eyes, beckoned to them, holding out the open box. Christopher was for bolting down the car aisle at once, but Jane caught him back and whispered something to her grandmother, who looked up from her book, exchanged smiles with the sweet-faced stranger, bowed and said “yes” to Jane.
“I thought you might like some chocolates,” said the lady as the children approached. “Won’t you sit down there opposite me?”
“Thank you,” said Jane politely, and the twins tucked themselves side by side into the big chair. The lady’s sweet, interested manner and the chocolates quickly put matters upon a friendly footing, and in two minutes the children were prattling away as if they had known Mrs. Hartwell-Jones (for that, she told them, was her name, watching out of the corner of her eye as she pronounced it to see if it sounded familiar to them) as if they had known her all their lives. Their own names, age and family history were soon told.
“Our mother and father have gone to Europe for four months,” announced Christopher importantly. “Father had to go on business and mother wanted to go with him and so——”
“She did not want to go, Kit,” corrected Jane. “The doctor thought she ought to.”
“Well, she did want to go. How could she help wanting to go to Europe?” demanded Christopher triumphantly. “So she and father went, and we are to spend the whole summer on the farm.”
“The whole summer,” repeated Jane, happily. But she swallowed hard as she thought of her father and mother off in the middle of the ocean on a big ship.
“It’s a real farm,” went on Christopher, “with cows and chickens and pigs.”