It was five o'clock and a very dull, dark afternoon in Charlton Street. One by one lights had twinkled out in all the little two-story-and-dormer-windowed houses on the block,—in all but one. The parlor windows of this house were still unlit, but behind the flower-box in one of them a hand could be seen moving aside the white curtains at frequent intervals and a dim face peering anxiously into the dusk.
At ten minutes past five precisely, two trim girl-figures turned the corner of Varick Street, hurried down the block, raced up the steps of this same house, and waved frantically at the4 dark windows. An answering wave saluted them from between the parted curtains. At the same moment lights twinkled out from the windows, and down the shades with a jerk, shutting out the dim street for the night. But back of the drawn shades a small figure in an invalid-chair held out welcoming arms to the girls who had just entered.
"My! How long you were! I thought you'd never get here to-day. And it's been so dark and dismal all the afternoon, too!" The two girls, who were plainly twins, knelt down, one on each side of the invalid-chair.
"We were an age, I know, Margaret dear," began Bess, "but there was a good reason. It's quite exciting,—all about the new girl!"
"Yes, you can never guess what, either!" echoed Jess, winding one of Margaret's dark curls around her finger.
"Oh, tell me—quick!" The child's big, beautiful gray eyes fairly sparkled with eagerness, and a faint flush tinted her delicate face. "Is it that queer girl you told me about, who only came into the class a few days ago?"
