CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
THE ENCHANTED KINGDOM

"If the ice didn't choke up the inlet I would row you over to Your kingdom, Princess," Peter said the next morning, as Janet took her place beside him in the carriage. "It would seem ever so much more like old times, wouldn't it?"

Janet nodded and laughed.

"Indeed it would. I wonder where MY old rowboat is. I left it on the beach."

"And I found it there, very much the worse for wear, and in sad need of a home, " Peter continued for her. "So I towed it over to our landing, and
now it is high and dry on the rafters in the barn, along with my canoe."

"Oh, Peter, do you remember the day you taught me to paddle?" Janet asked, laughing.

"I certainly do. I wasn't perfectly sure that we would ever get home again; that storm came up so suddenly."

"But we did, just in time to be arrested." They both laughed so hard at the memory of that never-to-be-forgotten day that Phyllis, in the back seat with Auntie Mogs, called,

"What are you two roaring over?"

"Oh, something funny that happened last summer, " Janet replied.

"Haven't you ever told your sister about it?" Peter inquired, and Janet shook her head.

"Then I'll tell you, Phyllis," Peter promised; "but I'll wait until we are on the scene of action."

"There are a lot of things I want to ask you," -- Phyllis laughed, "and a lot of places I want to see. Jan's no good at telling stories, she leaves out all the most interesting part."

"Well, you shall have a true and minute description from me, never fear," Peter told her.

"Let me drive," Janet begged a minute later, and Peter changed places with her, and for the rest of the drive lie talked to Phyllis and Auntie Mogs, for Janet was too taken up with the spirited team to have any time for conversation.

The Enchanted Kingdom presented a strangely orderly view. The road was trim and the gravel raked smoothly. The barns and outhouses were painted white, and they looked surprisingly clean against the gray sky. The house itself had lost all its rakish and forlorn look, though it retained, in spite of paint, its inviting air of mystery.

Gone were the dilapidated boards that had barred the windows, and white curtains fluttered in their stead. Green box-trees guarded each side of the white door, whose brass knocker shone in proof of the care lavished upon it.

"Well, what does the Princess think about it?" Peter demanded, delighted at Janet's look of surprise.

"I'd never have recognized it," she confessed. "What a lot you have done to it!"

"Come and see the inside. That's the best of all," Peter told her.

Mrs. Todd welcomed them from the doorway, and the tour of inspection began at once, for Janet would not hear of taking off her hat and coat until she had seen everything.

"All right; we'll leave the kingdom till the last," Peter said, as he followed Mrs. Todd from room to room.

Beautiful old furniture stood where Janet remembered the sheeted ghosts that had frightened her so many times. Gay chintz curtains vied with the copper and brass to liven the rooms that had always been shrouded in darkness. Upstairs the bedrooms were happy combinations of rag rugs and wonderful big beds, some of them so high that steps were necessary.

Peter had a den adjoining his room, and it was filled with his pet books and pictures. He exhibited it with pride, and Janet saw him slip his arm around Mrs. Todd and give her a hug when he thought no onewas looking.

At last only the Enchanted Kingdom remained, and when Janet entered it she found herself alone. Perhaps it was just as well -- the sight of the old rows of books, the table and the window-seat where she had spent so many happy hours sent tears to her eyes, and she had to blink hard to keep them from falling.

She sat on the floor, scorning the comfy chairs, and pulled out book after book; each one was in its same place, and she patted them all as though they were alive.

After a long time Peter came in to find her. Mrs. Todd had sent him to tell her that lunch was ready, but when he found her sitting on the floor, he forgot his message and dropped down beside her.

They were both very late for luncheon.

So many things filled the days that followed that a whole volume would be required to chronicle them. Janet and Phyllis liked the day before Christmas best of all.

Things began early in the morning.

"Get up, lazy bones!" Janet shook Phyllis, deaf to her protests. "You can't lie in bed this morning," she admonished.

Phyllis sat up and opened two sleepy eyes and yawned, then, memory asserting itself, she jumped out of bed with one spring. 

"Of course I can't," she cried. "We have to go and get the Christmas tree. I was forgetting."

"Look out of the window," Janet directed.

Phyllis looked. The ground was covered with snow, and the world, as far as she could see anyway, was decked in its Yuletide white.

They hurried with their dressing and, much to Martha's concern, with their breakfasts as well.

"Here they come!" Phyllis cried, "and, oh, Jan, they are in a sleigh. I can hear the bells."

"Oh, I hoped the snow would be deep enough!" Janet exclaimed; "and it must be. Three cheers for old Jack Frost!"

They answered Peter's whistle by appearing at the door, and he and Jack Belding jumped down from the sleigh to greet them. Jack Belding was a school friend of Peter's. He had come to Old Chester several days before. He was a tall, lanky youth with nondescript hair and eyes, but a sense of humor that would have assured him a welcome in any company.

Phyllis and Janet had liked him at once, much to Peter's relief and his own secret satisfaction. He always addressed them as, "You, Janet, or you, Phyllis," and then shut his eyes until the right one came, for he could not tell the one from the other. 

"Was there ever such a day?" Phyllis demanded as she jumped on to the big sleigh with Peter's help.

"Never in all this world," he replied seriously.

They started off at a smart gait, stopping at the rectory for Alice and Mildred Blake and at the Waters' for Harry. Then away they went along an old back road that wound up into the hills.

When they stopped they were all glad to get out and stretch. The girls walked up and down to get warm, and the boys made short work of chopping down a tall bushy Christmas tree.

The ride back was exciting, for they had to hold the slippery tree on the sleigh and stay on themselves. As Janet was driving at top speed this was not easy, but they reached the little church at last and carried the tree triumphantly into the Sunday-school room.

Then they flocked into the rectory for luncheon. Janet and Peter dropped behind.

"What does it make you think of?" Peter asked, laughing.

"Don't," Janet pleaded; "it's still too awful to remember. If I thought to-night was going to be anything like that night I would go straight home and go to bed."

"Don't you worry. It won't, Princess," Peter replied protectingly.

After luncheon the fun began. They all set to and trimmed the free, Phyllis, by common consent, was master of ceremonies, and they all hurried to do her bidding.

"Jack, if you eat all the popcorn strings I don't see what we shall have left for the tree," she complained once.

"Sorry," Jack apologized, "but that's one failing I have; in fact, I might add that it is the only one, without fear of boasting. Put me near a string of popcorn and I just naturally find myself eating it, and the funny thing is I don't like it unless it is strung." He spoke with such gravity that the rest shouted with laughter.

"Very well," said Phyllis, "we will put you beyond temptation's way. Go out and bring me back a whole lot of boughs. I want them for the chancel."

"Do you mean it?"

"I do."

"Very well, but if I am frozen I hope you have the grace to be ashamed of your heartlessness."

"Oh, I promise I'll be terribly ashamed," Phyllis called after him, as he walked dejectedly from the room.

When the tree was finished, and the church had been decked with boughs and holly, they all went home for a well-merited rest. The crown-event of the day was still before them.

A party at the Enchanted Kingdom to which all the countryside had been bidden.

And it was a party indeed!

Nothing could have been so totally different than Muriel's masquerade, yet it rivaled it in fun. Phyllis and Janet wore dresses exactly alike, and had the joy of playing their old tricks on a new company.

They danced and played games until twelve o'clock, and then Peter and Jack took them home in the sleigh.

On Christmas Day they went again to Mrs. Todd's and found all their gifts piled up under their little tree. Auntie Mogs had sent over even the New York presents and the ones from Tom.

One little box for Phyllis was the greatest surprise of all. It contained a very beautiful bracelet set with a single large sapphire, and tied to it was a card which read --

     "Merry Christmas to my girl, from Don"

"The darling," Phyllis said happily as she clasped it over her arm, "what a wonderful gift!"

"Indeed it is, my dear," Auntie Mogs agreed, "but" -- she added with a smile, "I think you deserve it."

Jack looked at it gleefully. "Ha, ha!" he exclaimed, "now I can tell them apart!"

He spoke with pride, but his fall was not far off, for before many minutes had passed Phyllis had slipped the bracelet to Janet, and his confusion was worse than ever.

Continue to chapter 19