"It was mother's name too," Tom told her, and went on with his story. "One day when you were just tiny tots father and mother went out for a sail. It was windy, and grandmother tried to persuade them not to go, but mother laughed at the idea of danger and they went." Tom paused and stroked Janet's soft hair. "They never came back, dear," he said gently. After a little he went on: "When grandmother heard it she almost lost her mind from grief, and she was sick for a long time. When she got better she had a fixed idea in her head that it was mother's fault and she would not let any one mention her name before her. Aunt Marjorie, mother's sister, came down, and of course she wanted to take you and Phyllis home with her, but grandmother wouldn't let her. She let her have Phyllis, because she had been named for mother, but she kept you. Aunt Marjorie was very angry and when she left grandmother told her never to come back and never to write to you or to me. Of course there was nothing for Aunt Mog to do but to agree. However, she didn't keep her promise, for she used to write to me at school and send me all kinds of things to eat. But I never saw her. Grandmother sent me away to school, and because I was noisy in the house she wouldn't let me come home for vacations. I was glad of it, for some of the boys always took me to their houses and I had a much better time. After I finished college I went west and for a while I was so busy on my ranch that I forgot I had any sisters. I used to write to grandmother now and again, as you know, and I sent my love to you, you were quite right to object to that kind of love," he added, laughing. "But how could you tell I wasn't the horrid prim thing that wrote those letters that grandmother corrected,"--Janet was quick to defend him against himself. "Did you ever write to Phyllis!" "Only at Christinas and after a while I stopped doing even that. She was just a little kid and I was so far away. Aunt Mog writes me whenever they move and change addresses. Bless her heart, I shouldn't wonder if perhaps she'd guessed that some day we would all want to be together. You'll love Aunt Mog; she's a dear." Janet walked back to the bench and sat down limply, her knees felt shaky. "A sister," she said softly. "A twin," Tom corrected her, laughing. "It's the same thing, only better," Janet answered, and then she laughed too. "Oh, Tommy, I'm so happy I think I'm going to cry like an idiotic baby." "Cry ahead, I won't look," Tom promised, but Janet had too many questions to ask to waste time crying. She swallowed hard, gave herself a little shake, and no tears came. "Am I going to see Phyllis soon?" she inquired. "Just as soon as I can get ahold of Aunt Mog and arrange for them to come down," Tom assured her. "Come down!" Janet exclaimed. "Will grandmother let them?" Tom smiled a peculiar sort of a smile. "Grandmother is going to _ask_ them to come down," he said quietly.