The Phantom Treasure

"There's a package for you, Janet." A smiling face was thrust within the partly open door.

"April fool," replied Janet, not looking up from her book for a moment. Then with a twinkle in her blue eyes, she raised her hand impressively and began to recite in sonorous tones the lines that she was learning.

"Exactly like Miss Sanders! Do it that way in class, Janet! I dare you!"

"I would, but it might hurt her feelings to do it in earnest as she does. No, I want to read poetry like Miss Hilliard,-but I can't say that I like to commit it. I want to pick out my own kind, Allie May."

Allie May came inside the door and leaned against it. "Well, Janet," she said, "I think that you might believe me when I tell you that there is a package for you down in the office. Honest. No April fool. Miss Hilliard said for me to tell you to come down. I don't know why she didn't give it to me to bring up. Perhaps she wants to see you anyhow. This is what she said: 'Janet has a box. Please tell her to come down to the office.'"

"H'm. Lina and I had our light on after hours last night. But it was not long, and we had a grand excuse. Lina lost a page of her short story that she had to hand in this morning. Honestly, Allie May, is there a package for me? I never had a box in my life except things sent from the store." Janet had put her book down now and was on her feet starting toward the door and her schoolmate.

"You haven't! Poor you! I hope that it's a grand cake with lots of good things. Maybe the box was so big that Miss Hilliard knew I couldn't bring it up!"

Allie May made big eyes as she linked her arm in Janet's and walked with her to the top of the stairs.

"If it is, you shall have the first and the best out of it. But it isn't. It's probably something brought here by mistake. Thanks, Allie May."

Janet was half way down the long, dark staircase that led to the lower hall when she finished her remarks. Allie May saw her friend's fluffy, golden locks fly out in the wind created by the rapid descent. Smiling, she went to her room, next to Janet's, somewhat struck with the fact that Janet had never received a "box," that delight of a school-girl's heart.

The lower hall was dark on this rainy first of April. None of the doors were open, and Janet Eldon, slight, active girl of fourteen years, stood poised on the lower step for a few moments, looking out through the mullioned panes of the tall, wide door at the entrance. Eaves were dripping and she heard the beat of the drops upon the tin roof of a porch outside.

Eyes the color of brighter skies considered thoughtfully the prospect till the sound of an opening door made them turn in another direction. Quickly Janet stepped to the floor, rounding the newel by catching hold of it and swinging herself around it. At the second door, down the hall to her right, she presented herself.

It was Miss Hilliard, principal of this small school for girls to whom Janet curtsied prettily. "Allie May said that you wanted to see me. Miss Hilliard," she said.

"Yes, Janet. There is a package here in the office that must be meant for you, yet the address is peculiar, to say the least. It is about the size of the usual box that comes for the girls,-come in to see it for yourself."

Miss Hilliard drew back from the door, admitting Janet, who went to the table by the big desk. There a box of medium size reposed, a square package, wrapped in heavy paper and well tied with cord.

"You will notice that the return address is with initials only, from some hotel in Albany, New York," Miss Hilliard continued.

Janet stood close to the table, looking with interest at the package, saying first, as she had said to Allie May, that there was "probably some mistake". But she caught her breath as she looked at the address. "Why-" she began. "Why, how queer!"

"Yes, isn't it? Rather pretty, though. Could that be your name, Janet? There is no one else here,-there has never been any one here by the name of Eldon; and you will observe that the name of the school is given, the correct address."

"I see."

Janet looked again in the upper left hand corner. The initials were P.V.M. But it was the address which filled her with surprise. The package was addressed to Miss Jannetje Jan Van Meter Eldon!

The longer she looked at it, the stranger it seemed. "Why, Miss Hilliard, I don't understand it at all. Could it be some joke? Oh, I just imagine that there is some mistake in addresses. Shall we open it?"

"Yes, Janet. But I shall be very busy for a while and have no time for this. I will have it taken to your room and you may do the investigating. I need not tell you to preserve the treasure intact if it should be full of diamonds."

Janet looked up at the tall, slender woman beside her and laughed at the suggestion. She was not afraid of Miss Hilliard, though many of the girls were. Had not Janet been in this school since her sixth year? The older woman's arm now drew her close and her cheek was laid for a moment against Janet's hair.

"Now run along, child. Get back to your lessons and I will have this sent upstairs by Oliver. There he is now, in the hall. Report to my own room after dinner, Janet, and I shall be able to see you in your room if necessary."

Through the partly open door they could see the janitor passing. Summoned by Miss Hilliard, he came after the box immediately and started up the stairs with it. Janet, holding Miss Hilliard's hand looked up into the kind eyes and asked soberly, "Do you suppose that really is my name, Miss Hilliard?"

"It is not impossible, Janet. You have always thought that the Janet came from your grandmother's Scotch ancestry, haven't you?"

"Yes, Miss Hilliard. You know I have everything about her family and pictures of my father from the time he was a baby."

"I hope that there will be something very interesting inside that box, Janet,-but there is the bell now. I must go to the parlors in a moment. I am expecting a call from one of our patrons this afternoon." Miss Hilliard was now the gracious head of the school in her manner, which had the dignity that usually accompanies such management.

Janet, too, made her departure with the formal curtsey which was the custom of the school. Never in the presence of Miss Hilliard did the girls forget their "manners". If so, they were instantly reminded of them.

Mechanically Janet ascended the stairs; her thoughts elsewhere. A caress from Miss Hilliard, rare, but expressing a real affection, was always something to be remembered. Janet "adored" Miss Hilliard as she occasionally said to Allie May Loring or Lina Marcy. Then, here was this box. In her heart Janet felt that it was for her.

"That quaint old Dutch name!" she thought. "Can it be that my mother-", but Janet grew confused. There was no use in conjecture. She must open the box. How she hoped that it was for her. The suggestion of diamonds amused her. She had not lifted it and did not know its weight. Probably it was heavy, because Oliver had been asked to carry it up. No, Miss Hilliard usually had him do that.

On entering her room, Janet saw the box on the floor. No wonder. Her table was full of books and papers. Her desk looked worse. Lina's coat and hat were on one of the straight chairs, the dictionary reposed on the other. If Miss Hilliard were coming up after dinner the room must be made perfect. One thing, there were no odds and ends of clothing or ornaments around. They were trained to keep such things in their places. But Lina had had an errand and rushed off to class, not hanging up her wraps as usual.

Janet gave a glance at her little alarm clock which occupied a prominent place on the desk. It was very disappointing. She had exactly two minutes before the next recitation. Did she know that poem, or didn't she? Saying over and over again the new lines, Janet again ran downstairs, the back stairs this time, to the recitation room.

At the door of the recitation room, Janet met her room-mate Lina Marcy, but as neither had a moment to spare, Janet did not mention her latest source of thrills. The teacher already had her roll book open and was marking it. She looked impatiently at the girls as they entered and took their regular seats, not together, for the class was seated alphabetically. Lina and Janet exchanged a glance which meant "beware". This particular teacher was temperamental.

Lina was opening her book to refresh herself on the lines which they were to commit. What a poky day it was, to be sure, she was thinking. Even the April fool jokes were stupid.

Janet could scarcely collect her thoughts, so busy was she in thinking about the address on the box. "'Jannetje'!-how quaint!" By the "irony of fate", as Lina told her later, she must, of course be called on first for the verses. Called back in her thoughts to the work at hand, Janet hesitated, started correctly on the first few lines, but soon stumbled and forgot the last half altogether.

The teacher looked surprised, an unintentional tribute to Janet's usual form. But hands were waving and some one else gave the lines wanted. Lina gave Janet a sympathetic look, which Janet did not even see. Something even bigger than making a perfect recitation was looming in Janet's foreground. When at last the recitation was over, she ran upstairs to the box. Of course the "je" was a sort of affectionate addition, a diminutive they called it, she believed. Was it really her name? Was she a Van Meter? Who was P.V.M.? P. Van Meter, of course. Suppose she had a grandfather,-or even a grandmother that she did not know!

It took only a few moments to open the box, for she cut the heavy cord to facilitate the matter. White tissue paper met her eye, and a little note lay on top, that is, something enclosed in a small white envelope. Janet opened it and read-

My dear Miss Jannetje:

I am asked to write a few lines to explain this box. Your uncle, Mr. Pieter Van Meter, is in communication with your attorney and you may have heard before this how he has discovered you and wants to see you.

As he asked me to prepare such a box as school girls like, I have prepared the contents accordingly and I hope that you will like it. I am wrapping, also, two books that were among your mother's things, because I feel sure that you will be interested in seeing something of hers right away that was in the old home place. In one of them I have tucked a note evidently written by your father about you to your grandfather. Of course you know that you were named for your mother, but you will be glad to read about it in your father's handwriting.

May it not be long before we see you in this odd but beautiful old place that was your grandfather's.

Sincerely yours,

Diana Holt.

Janet devoured this note rapidly. "Now, who can Diana Holt be?" she thought. She could scarcely wait to see the books, but they were not on top. Instead, Janet uncovered a smaller box which contained a cake carefully packed. Packages in oiled paper or light pasteboard containers obviously held a variety of good things, from fried chicken to pickles and fruit. Ordinarily Janet would have exclaimed over the array, which she carefully deposited together upon her table, after first removing certain books and papers and spreading the first thing that she could think of over it. This chanced to be a clean towel.

At last she came to the books, wrapped well in paper and pasteboard. Truly Miss or Mrs. Diana Holt was a good packer.

The prettier or newer book Janet opened first. It was a handsome copy of Tennyson's poems, bound in green and gilt. At once she turned to the leaf on which the inscription was written, "To my Jannetje, from Douglas".

There, too, was the note, addressed to "Dear Father." It was brief. "You received my telegram. I am sure. Jannet sends her dear love. We have named the baby for her, because I begged for the name. I will have more time to write to-morrow. Jannet wants me to write every day, but you will be quite as pleased, I think, with less frequent reports. There will be the three of us to come home next summer."

Janet noted her father's more or less familiar signature. She had seen more than one of his letters to her grandmother. "And I suppose that I never got there at all. How did they lose me, I wonder? Why didn't Grandmother Eldon leave me some word about my mother?"

Such were Janet's thoughts. But there was nobody to tell her how it had happened. In some way her mother's people had lost all track of her. The wonder was that her uncle had found trace of her after so long. Her uncle Pieter! How interesting to have kept the old Dutch spelling. She would sign all her papers and letters now with two n's in Jannet!

The other book was more plain, also a book of poems, a copy of Whittier's verse; and the inscription upon the fly-leaf interested Janet even more than the other. It was to "my dear Mother, Adelaide Van Meter, from her loving daughter, Jannetje Jan Van Meter Eldon."

It was true, then. Here was the evidence. What a pretty, clear hand her mother had. A little pang went through Janet's heart that she could not have known her parents, but she resisted any sad thought, saying to herself that she ought to be thankful to know at last who her mother was. The last doubt in Janet's heart was satisfied. Knowing one or two sad stories in the lives of a few girls at the school, she had wondered if, possibly, there had been any separation, some unhappy ending to the marriage of her father and mother. This she had never expressed, but it had haunted her a little. At the date of her birth it had been all right, then, and she knew that she was only five or six months old when her father had brought her to his mother. She would find her mother's grave, perhaps.

There was much to be explained yet, to be sure, if it could be, but Janet was very happy as she now gave her attention to the discarded feast packing its units back into the box with some satisfaction. Janet Eldon had had feasts before, but the materials had all been purchased at some shop. After dinner she would get permission from Miss Hilliard, when she showed her the books and notes.

Now there was laughter in the hall. She heard Lina's voice and hastened to unlock her door. Could it be possible that she had spent all Lina's lesson period in looking at the books, reading the letters and thinking?

"'Lo, Janet," said Allie May Loring, walking in ahead of Lina Marcy. "Get your box?"

"Yes, Allie May, a scrumptious box like anybody's. My mother's people have discovered my existence at last. Really, Lina. Somebody at the OLD HOME PLACE fixed up the box for me, and they sent me two books of my mother's. Just think, girls, I was named for her and everything. I'd rather you would not speak about it to the other girls, though. It always embarrassed me a little, you know, that I did not know anything about my mother, but you see, Grandmother Eldon died before I was old enough to ask very much about it. I called her Mamma at first; then she was so very sick and for so long." Janet paused a moment.

"Really, girls, this has been about the only home that I have known, this and your house, Lina."

The other two girls had sat down to listen quietly. Allie May was the first to speak. "I never would have thought anything about your not knowing about your mother. You always seemed perfectly natural about everything, Janet."

"Did I? I'm glad."

"You are a little more-what does Miss Hilliard call it?-reserved, with all the girls, than some of us," said Lina. "She tells us not to tell all we know, and you don't!"

Allie May and Janet laughed at this. "Miss Hilliard's brought me up, you know," smiled Janet. "I can remember yet crying for 'Gramma' and having her comfort me. Then came your auntie to teach here, Lina,-and I was fixed!"

"I can remember how crazy I was to see you, Janet," said Lina. "I wasn't allowed to come here until I was twelve, Allie May; and Auntie told me all about the 'darling child with the golden hair' that took piano lessons of her and practiced away so hard with fat little fingers. She said she wanted to hug you every other minute, but had to teach you piano instead. Your fingers aren't fat now, Janet."

"When did you first see Janet?" asked Allie May, interested.

"The first time that Aunt Adeline brought her home with her. Miss Hilliard used to look after her the first two or three vacations. You weren't with her all the time, though, were you, Janet?"

"Just part of the time. She had my old nurse that took care of me while Grandmother was sick, and we'd go to the seashore, or somewhere in the mountains. But Miss Hilliard kept an eye on me. I never can pay her back, or your Aunt Adeline either."

"You'll never need to. Just having you in the family is enough. But won't it be wonderful to have some kin folks? Tell us about it, Janet."

Janet then handed the girls the books and read them the letters, pledging them again to secrecy, for she did not want to have the fifty girls talking over her private affairs. Like Janet, her friends were more interested in the surprising facts which she had to tell than in the good things in the box, though when she showed them the cake with its white frosting and unwrapped the pieces of chicken from the oiled paper, offering them their choice, there were some exclamations of pleasure. "That is a family worth having!" said Allie May. "No, Janet, I'd rather eat a good dinner and then when I am starved as usual after studying come to your feast."

"Whom are you going to invite, Janet?"

"I want to take something to your aunt, Lina, and to Miss Hilliard, and do you think it would be very piggy just to have this by ourselves? Some way, I don't want anybody much right now, and I just had a party of our crowd last Saturday, you know."

"Suits me," laughed Allie May.

"It wouldn't be 'piggy' at all, Janet," asserted Lina. "I know how you must feel,-sort of dazed, aren't you?"

Janet nodded assent. "I'll let you know when, after I talk to Miss Hilliard. I am to see her after dinner."

But when Janet asked Miss Hilliard she was asked in turn if she had ever attended a late feast in the school. To this question Janet gave an honest reply. "Why, yes, Miss Hilliard."

"Then you were either invited without my knowledge by one of the older girls or attended a feast held without permission, though I should scarcely think that you knew it, Janet, and I shall not ask you now. No, to-morrow is Saturday, fortunately. It is cool and your box came right through. You may put the chicken in the refrigerator if you like. Have your party at any time on Saturday you like before evening."

There was so much of greater importance waiting to be discussed that Janet did not feel much disappointment. She did have one thought, though, expressed to Lina later. "Won't it be fine to go to a home where you do about as you please, the way it is at your house?"

But Lina reminded Janet that even there, late refreshments were not encouraged.

Miss Hilliard did not disappoint Janet in any other way. She was pleased that the note of explanation was so cordial. "I should say that a woman of some intelligence wrote that kind note," she said. "It must be a satisfaction to you, too, Janet, that you are named for your mother. Perhaps there will be some pictures of her in the Van Meter home. I know how you have wished to see some."

"Oh, there will be!" Janet exclaimed. "I had not thought of that!"

"We shall be expecting news direct from your uncle, then. When your grandmother first wrote to me, urging me to take you at a time when the only small girls were day scholars, she said that your mother was of a fine family in the east and that your father, her son, was ill when he brought you to her. Does this depress you, Janet?" Miss Hilliard had noticed that Janet seemed touched when she first showed her the books and names.

"Oh, no, Miss Hilliard. My father and mother are like beautiful dreams to me. This makes them a little more real,-that is all, and I felt a little 'teary' when I read my father's letter."

"I will try to find that old correspondence. I must have kept it, I think, though when you first came, we were expecting nothing like your grandmother's sudden death. I understood that she was an invalid, but with some ailment that could be cured in time."

"And I have forgotten so much, except the fact that I did not know my own mother's name!"

"You should have told me, if that troubled you, Janet. I will ask Miss Marcy, who wrote about you to your grandmother, I think, what she knows about those early circumstances. Have you been happy here, Janet?"

"Oh, you know, Miss Hilliard, don't you, how I have been so glad for you and Miss Marcy and all my friends?"

"Yes, Janet. You have always been more than appreciative."

On the next day, Janet, Lina and Allie May made a lunch out of their party, by Miss Hilliard's suggestion, and it was almost as much fun as a late feast. As it happened, it was well that they had their fun early in the afternoon, for about three o'clock Janet was sent for. There was a gentleman waiting for her, the maid said.

Although so without family, Janet Eldon did not possess a lonely heart. She had the faculty of making friends, in spite of a little natural reserve and a manner more or less formal which she had unconsciously acquired by long residence in a school that fostered it. But that dropped away when she was with her intimate friends, for jolly school girls with a sense of humor can have many a merry time. If Janet was a little more mature in manner than some of the other girls of her age, it was to her advantage.

Yet her background there had its limitations and it was a good thing for her that the Marcy family was so fond of her.

The family circle there was large. With Lina, Janet entered into all the vacation plans, athletic or domestic, as they might be. They lived in town, but the younger fry learned to ride, to row, to swim, to camp out a little or to motor together. Janet had some idea back in the recesses of her brain that the Marcys might take her to her uncle's home after school was out. But that plan was not to be carried out. She was to see the Marcys again, but Janet was leaving this school sooner than she had thought. Some of the girls she never saw again, the inevitable separation taking place sooner than any of them anticipated.

The day was bright after the April showers of the preceding one. Janet went down to the double parlors of the building not knowing whom she would see, but she was rather relieved to see the lawyer by whose hands the modest fortune left her by her grandmother Eldon was administered. He was a man of medium height, with a somewhat serious but pleasant face, hair partly gray, keen eyes on the hazel order, and a manner of some dignity. Rising, he held out his hand to Janet.

"Miss Hilliard is not yet at liberty," he said, "but we can have a little conversation before she comes in. I have what I hope will prove to be pleasant news to you, certain communications from the representative of your mother's family, her oldest brother, your uncle Pieter Van Meter."

Janet smiled, as she sat down and the lawyer resumed his seat. "I am glad to see you, Mr. Conley. I have just had some word of the sort myself, a fine box from the home place and a letter from some lady there. She sent me two books of my mother's and I found out that I had an uncle."

"Well, well,-I am disappointed not to surprise you more. I thought that I should find some enthusiasm."

"Oh, there is! I am terribly thrilled over it!"

"'Terribly thrilled', are you? Did the lady tell you that your uncle wants you to go as soon as possible to the Van Meter place in New York and make your home there?"

"No, Mr. Conley. Oh, how can I do that? I'll have to go to school some more, won't I?"

"I think that your uncle has some idea of having you taught privately."

"I wouldn't like that at all. I don't think that I will go,-yes, I will, too, for I must find out about my mother."

Mr. Conley smiled at Janet's independent speech and Janet realized as soon as she had spoken that she must do what her guardian said. Thank fortune her guardian was Miss Hilliard!

"Perhaps the lady who has written you is the one who will instruct you. But we shall see what Miss Hilliard has to say. Here she comes now," and Mr. Conley rose to meet Miss Hilliard, who came across the wide room from the door into the hall.

"I suppose, John, you have come to tell us about Pieter Van Meter," said Miss Hilliard, after she had shaken hands with the lawyer and he had placed a chair for her.

"Yes, Anna, that rather poetical name is the subject of my discourse."

Janet could scarcely suppress a mild giggle at that. Pieter and Meter did make a sort of rhyme.

Most of the conversation was now between Miss Hilliard and her old friend. Janet remembered what the older girls said, that Mr. Conley had wanted to marry Miss Hilliard and was waiting for her yet. It was very interesting. Sakes, they must be at least forty years old!

The letter from Pieter Van Meter was submitted to Miss Hilliard and passed on to Janet. It was brief, but clear, stating that the writer had recently traced the whereabouts of his niece, though he did not say how. He wanted to see her and to offer her a home where her mother, his sister, had lived. It was also hinted that he was Janet's natural guardian and that legal steps to that end could be taken in due time.

Janet was reading the letter and did not see the look that was exchanged between the lawyer and Miss Hilliard when Mr. Conley began to speak of that last point. But Miss Hilliard said firmly that nothing of the kind would be undertaken until Janet had been to the Van Meter place and made report about it and her uncle.

"First we must see, John," said she in a low tone, glancing at Janet who was reading the letter and apparently absorbed in it, "whether Pieter Van Meter is a fit guardian for Janet. If he is, and will care for her little property and keep it together for her, very well. But I shall not hand over the responsibility just to be relieved of it. Everything is safe for Janet as long as you are in charge. Mr. Van Meter might be perfectly good and yet without judgment to take care of Janet. Janet, dear, you may be excused now, while I talk over business matters with Mr. Conley and arrange about your going, for I think that I shall let you drop the school work to go, as your uncle desires."

"Just a moment, Anna. Janet, I have made out a full report for you of your property and income, with the same items of interest and rent that I am giving, as usual, to your guardian. You are old enough now to know about these matters."

"Please, Mr. Conley," begged Janet. "I don't want to know anything about it. Will I have the same allowance as usual?"

"Yes," smiled the lawyer, in some amusement, "perhaps a little more, if you go to your uncle's and need some more frocks."

"Goody!" Janet looked at Miss Hilliard mischievously, then made her adieux as a properly trained pupil of the Hilliard school ought to do.

Miss Hilliard looked after her thoughtfully and Mr. Conley looked at Miss Hilliard. "Anna, you have had great success with that child," he said.

"Who can tell what the future will bring my girls?" she asked. "One can only try to implant high ideals and the Christian principles that will carry them on in any path. Janet is spirited and inclined to be independent, but she has fine ideas of justice and the rights of others, with considerable courage, too. I am hoping that she will find a loving home in this new place. Mr. Van Meter says nothing about the family. How would it do for you to call personally in a little while, after we hear Janet's reports about her people?"

"That is a good idea, Anna. There is always the excuse of business, in addition to showing an interest in Janet's welfare. Meanwhile, I shall quietly inquire about Mr. Van Meter. It is probably one of the old Dutch families with considerable standing, but we do not want to take too much for granted."

"Will it interrupt your affairs too much, John?"

"No. I often run up to New York and Albany. This letter is mailed at some small village, near the country place of the Van Meters, I suppose. How would you like to have me take Janet there, or to Albany, rather, where Van Meter says she will be met?"

"Thank you,-I shall go with Janet myself. It is not much of a trip and the assistant principal can have a chance to exercise her skill with the girls. I want to stop a day or two in New York."

The next two weeks were full of excitement for Janet, who went to classes as usual, but with much distraction of mind. They had written to her uncle. The date was set. Clothes were being put in order, and a new frock or two purchased, a task easy enough in the Philadelphia department stores. Janet's wardrobe was always sufficient, but she rather imagined that Miss Hilliard felt as she did, that Uncle Pieter should see her well provided for up to date.

"Won't it be lovely in the country, Janet, through May and June!" Allie May Loring exclaimed. "I just envy you. We'll be shut up to old lessons as usual, only for a few trips around and our picnics! Do write to us at least."

"Indeed I will. If only it isn't too lonesome there! Maybe I'll be just perishing to come back, after I find out all about my mother, you know. But I am crazy to see the place where she lived when she was a girl like me. If Uncle Pieter is nice, it will be all right. He did not say a word about his wife or anybody, so I have it all to find out. Perhaps I have some cousins, too. Won't it be fun if I have?"

"I hope that you will, if you want 'em," said Allie May, who sometimes thought that she had too many. But then, Janet never had had anybody.

"When I get married," said Janet, "if I ever do, I'm going to marry some one with a large family of brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins and all the relations that you can have!"

"Great idea," laughed Lina Marcy.

At last the fateful day arrived. Janet, neat from top to toe and clad in the "darling spring suit," said goodbyes that turned out to be rather tearful in the end, to a host of girls assembled in the parlors and halls of the Hilliard school.

"Sure you come back next fall, Janet!"

"Come down for Commencement if your uncle will let you!"

"We'll miss you awfully in the spring fête, Janet!"

"That blue suit with the gray tones is too utterly sweet on you for anything, Janet."

"'Bye, Jannetje Van Meter Eldon. Give the Dutchman my best regards."

All this, to be sure, was before Miss Hilliard appeared from her room to take Janet to the taxi which was waiting outside. And funniest of all, several of the girls, who knew more about where Janet was going than the rest, took hands and sang softly around Janet:

"O Uncle Pieter,

Pieter Van Meter

Ain't no one sweeter,

Be sure to meet her,

Pieter Van Meter!"

Lips parted in merry smiles; girls were waving last goodbyes and kisses, as Janet was whirled away in the taxi beside Miss Hilliard. One tear, of which Janet had been scarcely aware, was now carefully wiped away to keep it from splashing upon the new suit. "Weren't the girls lovely, Miss Hilliard?" she asked. "I never was so surprised as when my little club gave me this sweet silk scarf that just goes with the suit, and the pair of hose that I have on."

"'Sweet'?" inquired Miss Hilliard.

"Well, it is fragrant, for I put a drop of violet on it before I started."

Last pictures of the merry girls floated in Janet's mind, with the appearance of the fine old brick building, almost flush with the street, its vines, over the large windows, just budding with spring green.

But the future was more interesting than the past. The very fact that Janet knew so little about what it might hold for her made it all the more fascinating to contemplate.