"The responsibility of being the twins for the old wing is growing daily," Phyllis laughed. "I'm worse than Prue when it comes to a straight eye, so I suppose we're doomed for one defeat."
"We're doomed for no such thing," Janet denied hotly.
But an inarticulate murmur was all the response she received from Phyllis.
"Oh, go to sleep then, lazy bones!" she said, and snuggled deeper into her pillow.
She was soon dreaming that the Red Twins were making bull's-eyes with every arrow that they loosed.
When the sun, red gold in his morning splendor, sent his first shafts through the woods, throwing queer patterns on the green lawn, he surprised two girls, busy with their bows and arrows. They had flaming red hair, and the sun always jealous of competition scowled behind a tiny white cloud.
On the day of the Archery Contest, lessons stopped at noon at Hilltop. By two o'clock all the girls were assembled on the south lawn. They all wore immaculate white dresses, that contrasted prettily with the autumn colors. A stack of bows, their strings loosened, stood against the bench near the target and a heap of feathered arrows lay on the ground.
Under the shade of a big tree, the score board flashed forth in white letters, "Archery Day."
Forty girls were competing. You could pick them out from among the others by their eager expectant expression.
The faculty in the daintiest of gowns were making the guests, who had driven in from all around the countryside, as comfortable as possible in the grey wicker chairs that had been brought down from the school, and placed in a half circle back of the shooters. They came because they loved the pretty sight of the girls in their white dresses on the green lawn, with the old mansion as a background, rather than for any real interest in Archery.
There were tables under the trees, where, after the contest, lemonade would be served to the girls, and tea to the guests and faculty.
Prue at the last moment had decided not to enter.
"Why swell the number of the old wing failures?" she said to Gwen, and Gwen nodded, fully conscious of the sacrifice she was making; and to repay her for it, she made her official score-keeper.
The twins, with Sally and Daphne, and Gladys and Ann, formed a little group with her around the board.