The twins and Sally were breathless when they reached the gate, but they were in time to see two carriages coming down the turnpike.

“Two carriages!” Phyllis exclaimed.

“Maybe they’re not both for here,” Janet replied.

Sally smiled a broad smile.

“Oh, but they are,” she said.

“What’s the mystery?” Phyllis demanded.

“Wait and see,” was all the satisfaction Sally would give them.

They watched the carriages as they crawled along. The little station of Hillsdale did not boast taxicabs, but contented itself to the old-fashioned surreys driven by talkative old negroes.

At last the first carriage turned in at the gate and the girls saw Daphne and her mother sitting on the back seat. They jumped on the steps, and Phyllis climbed in beside the driver.

Daphne at their unexpected appearance was so delighted that she fairly danced, and Mrs. Hillis, who had feared Daphne’s silence on the way up from the station was the first sign of homesickness, was relieved.

Daphne had tight hold of Janet’s hand. A year ago she had understood, when things looked very black for Phyllis’s twin. And now the tables were turned, and in this new world of boarding school she looked to Janet.

Janet gave her hand a tight squeeze.

“Taffy, it’s so good to see you,” she said.

“At first we were just sick that you couldn’t come with us, but really, it’s more fun this way,” Phyllis turned around in her seat as she spoke and saw the other carriage still following.

“Why, look,” she said. “That is coming here, too.” But Sally interrupted her.

“The twins are regular old girls now at Hilltop,” she said to Daphne. “Oh, isn’t it great we’re all four together!”

Mrs. Hillis smiled. Her laugh was a little like Daphne’s.

“How happy you girls are,” she said. “I was a little worried about Daphne’s coming so far away from home, but now I know Mrs. Ladd was right. I can see by your faces that Hilltop is a vast improvement over Miss Harding’s.”

The girls nodded an eager agreement.

“Here we are!” Sally exclaimed excitedly as they drew up before the steps.

“What a beautiful place!” Mrs. Hillis said warmly.

“Don’t you feel like the President in the White House when you walk up and down these steps?” Daphne drawled.

“Well, you do feel awfully important,” Janet agreed.

A maid met them at the door and took Daphne’s bag.

“If you all-ll come dis way, I’ll show you just where to go,” she said.

Mrs. Hillis and Daphne followed her, and the girls waited in the square hall.

“Who under the sun is in that next carriage?” Janet demanded.

“Wait and see,” Sally replied provokingly.

“Oh, I know,” Phyllis exclaimed. “It’s another new girl. She’s going to be in the new wing. I heard Kitty and Alice talking about it in history class today.

“Indeed,” Sally asked politely.

The maid came back just as the other carriage stopped. A man and two girls got out and came up the steps. Sally clutched each of the twins by an arm and pulled them in to a sheltering window recess.

“Now don’t scream when you see what’s coming,” she whispered.

The maid was taking the bags. They could hear the man’s voice asking for Miss Hull. The twins looked out from their hiding place.

Two girls stood in the doorway; the old lantern that swung from the porch illuminated their faces. They had red hair and they were dressed exactly alike.

“Twins!” Janet exclaimed in a muffled voice, and Phyllis looked bewildered.

“Isn’t it a lark?” Sally demanded. “The minute the old wing gets a pair of twins the new one has to follow suit.”

They heard Daphne’s voice and saw her with her mother and Miss Hull coming down the hall. They went forward to meet them as the new twins and their father followed the maid in the same direction, and under the center light exactly in the middle of the hall they all met.

All four twins looked at each other. Janet and Phyllis saw that their rivals were easily distinguishable one from the other. For although their faces were exactly alike, one was considerably stouter than the other.

It was Miss Hull’s low musical laugh that broke the awkward silence.

“How did our little surprise turn out, Sally?” she asked.

“Oh, beautifully, Miss Hull,” Sally laughed. “Jan and Phyl never guessed for a minute.”

Miss Hull smiled delightedly and turned to the gentleman who was waiting for her.

“Mr. Ward,” she said, holding out her hand.

Mr. Ward scowled.

“Yes’m. They’re my twins; May and Bess,” his abrupt way of speaking contrasted oddly with his southern voice. “If you can take them right now and let me get back and catch that next train for town I’ll be mighty obliged. I kept the carriage waiting.”

“Certainly, Mr. Ward,” Miss Hull replied, “You go right on. We’ll take care of May and Bess.”

Mr. Ward bowed over her hand for a brief moment, nodded to his daughters and strolled out of the front door.

The Ward twins’s faces relaxed and they smiled. It was easy to see that their father’s departure was a relief rather than a sorrow.