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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/39896-8.txt b/39896-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cf4d72c --- /dev/null +++ b/39896-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5329 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Girl Next Door, by Augusta Huiell Seaman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Girl Next Door + +Author: Augusta Huiell Seaman + +Illustrator: C. M. Relyea + +Release Date: June 2, 2012 [EBook #39896] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIRL NEXT DOOR *** + + + + +Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Book Cover] + + + + +THE GIRL NEXT DOOR + + + + +[Illustration: Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house +opposite] + + + + +THE GIRL NEXT DOOR + + +BY +AUGUSTA HUIELL SEAMAN + +Author of "The Sapphire Signet," "The +Boarded-Up House," etc. + + +ILLUSTRATED BY +C. M. RELYEA + + +[Illustration] + + +NEW YORK +THE CENTURY CO. + + + + +Copyright, 1917, by +THE CENTURY CO. + + + + +TO +HOA-SIAN-SIN-NÎU +(Margaret Gillespie Fagg) + +AND TO THE MEMORY OF +HOA-SIAN-SIN +(John Gerardus Fagg, D.D.) + +THIS BOOK IS +AFFECTIONATELY +DEDICATED + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I MARCIA'S SECRET 3 + II THE FACE BEHIND THE SHUTTER 20 + III THE GATE OPENS 32 + IV THE BACKWARD GLANCE 43 + V THE HANDKERCHIEF IN THE WINDOW 54 + VI CECILY REVEALS HERSELF 62 + VII SURPRISES ALL AROUND 72 + VIII AT THE END OF THE STRING 81 + IX FOR THE SAKE OF CECILY 94 + X THE FILIGREE BRACELET 111 + XI THE LIFTED VEIL 119 + XII MISS BENEDICT SPEAKS 129 + XIII VIA WIRELESS 141 + XIV THE WRITING ON THE BRACELETS 149 + XV PUZZLING IT OUT 160 + XVI ONE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 170 + XVII MAJOR GOODRICH ASSISTS 183 + XVIII THE MAJOR HAS A FURTHER INSPIRATION 192 + XIX THE UNEXPECTED 206 + XX AUNT MINERVA TAKES COMMAND 227 + XXI SIX MONTHS LATER 251 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house + opposite _Frontispiece_ + Cecily Marlowe passed them by without a look 49 + They heard Cecily's light footsteps 83 + "I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these + shutters," cried Janet, suddenly 105 + In the sudden light of the open door she stood revealed 125 + "Words on two bracelets are identical," replied Lee Ching, + precisely 157 + "Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life + I lead" 171 + "Sydney must have come in again; I hear him practising!" 257 + + + + +THE GIRL NEXT DOOR + + + + +CHAPTER I + +MARCIA'S SECRET + + +"Marcia Brett, do you mean to tell me--" + +"Tell you--what?" + +"That you've had a secret two whole months and never told me about it +yet? And I'm your _best_ friend!" + +"I was waiting till you came to the city, Janet. I wanted to _tell_ you; +I didn't want to _write_ it." + +"Well, I've been in the city twelve hours, and you never said a word +about it till just now." + +"But, Janet, we've been sight-seeing ever since you arrived. You can't +very well tell secrets when you're sight-seeing, you know!" + +"Well, you might have given me a hint about it long ago. You know we've +solemnly promised never to have any secrets from each other, and yet +you've had one _two whole months_?" + +"No, Jan, I haven't had it quite as long as that. Honest! It didn't +begin till quite a while after I came; in fact, not till about three or +four weeks ago." + +"Tell me all about it right away, then, and perhaps I'll forgive you!" + +The two girls cuddled up close to each other on the low couch by the +open window and lowered their voices to a whisper. Through the warm +darkness of the June night came the hum of a great city, a subdued, +murmurous sound, strangely unfamiliar to one of the girls, who was in +the city for the first time in all her country life. To the other the +sound had some time since become an accustomed one. As they leaned their +elbows on the sill and, chins in hand, stared out into the darkness, +Marcia began: + +"Well, Jan, I might as well commence at the beginning, so you'll +understand how it all happened. I've been just crazy to tell you, but +I'm not good at letter-writing, and there's such a lot to explain that I +thought I'd wait till your visit. + +"You know, when we first moved to this apartment, last April, from 'way +back in Northam, I was all excitement for a while just to be living in +the city. Everything was _so_ different. Really, I acted so _silly_--you +wouldn't believe it! I used to run down to the front door half a dozen +times a day, just to push the bell and see the door open all by itself! +It seemed like something in a fairy-story. And for the longest while I +couldn't get used to the dumb-waiter or the steam-heat or the electric +lights, and all that sort of thing. It _is_ awfully different from our +old-fashioned little Northam--now isn't it?" + +"Yes, I feel just that way this minute," admitted Janet. + +"And then, too," went on Marcia, "there were all the things outside to +do and see--the trolleys and stores and parks and museums and the zoo! +Aunt Minerva said I went around 'like a distracted chicken' for a while! +And beside that, we used to have the greatest fun shopping for new +furniture and things for this apartment. Hardly a bit of that big old +furniture we brought with us would fit into it, these rooms are so much +smaller than the ones in our old farm-house. + +"Well, anyhow, for a while I was too busy and interested and excited to +think of another thing--" + +"Yes, too busy to even write to _me_!" interrupted Janet. "I had about +one letter in two weeks from you, those days. And you'd _promised_ to +write every other day!" + +"Oh well, never mind that now! You'd have done the same, I guess. If you +don't let me go on, I'll never get to the _secret_! After a while, +though, I got used to all the new things, and I'd seen all the sights, +and Aunt Minerva had finished all the furnishing except the curtains and +draperies (she's at that, yet!), and all of a sudden everything fell +flat. I hadn't begun my music-lessons, and there didn't seem to be a +thing to do, or a single interest in life. + +"The truth is, Jan, I was frightfully lonesome--for _you_!" Here Marcia +felt her hand squeezed in the darkness. "Perhaps you don't realize it, +but living in an apartment in a big city is the _queerest_ thing! You +don't know your neighbor that lives right across the hall. You don't +know a soul in the house. And as far as I can see, you're not likely to +if you lived here fifty years! Nobody calls on you as they do on a new +family in the country. Nobody seems to care a rap who you are, or +whether you live or die, or anything. And would you believe it, Janet, +there isn't another girl in this whole apartment, either older or +younger than myself! No one but grown-ups. + +"So you can see how awfully lonesome I've been. And as Aunt Minerva had +decided not to send me to high school till fall, I didn't have a chance +to get acquainted with any one of my own age. Actually, it got so I +didn't do much else but moon around and mark off the days till school in +Northam closed and you could come. And, oh, I'm _so_ glad you're here +for the summer! Isn't it gorgeous!" She hugged her chum spasmodically. + +"But to go on. I'm telling you all this so you can see what led up to my +doing what I did about--the _secret_. It began one awfully rainy +afternoon last month. I'd been for a walk in the wet, just for exercise, +and when I came in, Aunt Minerva was out shopping. I hadn't a new book +to read nor a blessed thing to do, so I sat down right here by the +window and got to thinking and wondering _why_ things were so unevenly +divided--why you, Jan, should have a mother and father and a big, jolly +lot of brothers and sisters, and I should be just _one_, all alone, +living with Aunt Minerva (though she's lovely to me), with no mother, +and a father away nearly all the time on his ship. + +"And it seemed as if I just hated this apartment, with its little rooms, +like cubbyholes, all in a row. I longed to be back in Northam. And +looking out of the window, I even thought I'd give anything to live in +that big, rambling, dingy, old place next door, beyond the brick wall, +for at least one could go up and down _stairs_ to the different rooms. + +"And then, if you'll believe me, Jan, as I stared at that house it +began to dawn on me that I'd never really 'taken it in' before--that it +was a very strange-looking old place. And because I didn't have another +mortal thing to do, I just sat and stared at it as if I'd never seen it +before, and began to wonder and wonder about it. For there were a number +of things about it that seemed decidedly _queer_." + +"What's it like, anyway?" questioned Janet. "There were so many other +things to see to-day that I didn't notice it at all. And it's so dark +now I can't see a thing." + +"Why, it's a big, square, four-story brick house, and it's terribly in +need of paint. Looks as if it hadn't had a coat in years and years. It +stands 'way back from the street, in a sort of ragged, weedy garden, and +there's a high brick wall around the whole place, except for a heavy +wooden gate at the front covered with ironwork. That gate is always +closed. A stone walk runs from the gate to the front door. 'Way back at +the rear of the garden is an old brick stable that looks as if it hadn't +been opened or used in years. + +"You'll see all this yourself, Janet, when you look out of the window in +the morning. For this apartment-house runs along close to the brick +wall, and as we're three floors up, you get a good view of the whole +place. This window in my room is the _very_ best place of all to see +it--fortunately. + +"But the queer thing about it is that, though the shutters are all +tightly closed or bowed,--every one!--and the whole place looks +deserted, it really _isn't_! There's some one living in it; and once in +a long while you happen to see signs of it. For instance, that very +afternoon I saw this: 'most all the shutters are tightly closed, but on +the second floor they are usually just bowed. And that day the slats in +one of them were open, and I thought I could see a muslin curtain +flapping behind it. But while I was looking, the fingers of a hand +suddenly appeared between the slats and snapped them shut with a jerk. + +"Of course, there's nothing so awfully strange about a thing like that, +_as a rule_, but somehow the way it was done seemed _mysterious_. I +can't explain just why. Anyhow, as I hadn't anything else to do, I +concluded I'd sit there for a while longer and see if something else +would happen. But nothing did--not for nearly an hour; and I was getting +tired of the thing and just going to get up and go away _when_--" + +"_What?_" breathed Janet, in an excited whisper. + +"The big front door opened (it was nearly dark by that time) and out +crept the queerest little figure! It appeared to be a little old woman +all dressed in dingy black clothes that looked as if they must have come +out of the ark, they were so old-fashioned! Her hat was a queer little +bonnet, with no trimming except a heavy black veil that came down over +her face. She had a small market-basket on her arm, and a big old +umbrella. + +"But the queerest thing was the way she scuttled down the path to the +gate, like a frightened rabbit, turning her head from side to side, as +if she was afraid of being seen or watched. When she got to the gate, +she had to put down her basket and umbrella and use both hands to +unlock it with a huge key. When she got outside of it, on the street, +she shut the gate behind her, and of course I couldn't see her any more. + +"Well, it set me to wondering and wondering what the story of that queer +old house and queer little old lady could be. It seemed as if there +_must_ be some story about it, or some explanation; for, you see, it's a +big place, and evidently at one time must have been very handsome. And +it stands right here in one of the busiest and most valuable parts of +the city. + +"The more I thought of it, the more curious I grew. But the worst of it +was that I didn't know a soul who could tell me the least thing about +it. Aunt Minerva couldn't, of course, and I wasn't acquainted with +another person in the city. It just seemed as if I _must_ find some +explanation. Then, all of a sudden, I thought of our new colored maid. +Perhaps she might have heard something about it. I made up my mind I'd +go right out to the kitchen. So I went and started her talking about +things in general and finally asked her if she knew anything about that +old house. And _then_--I wish you could have heard her! I can't tell it +all the way she did, but this is the substance of it: + +"It seems that she's discovered that the janitor here is the son of an +old friend from North Carolina. Of course she's been talking to him a +lot, and he has told her all about the whole neighborhood, and +especially about the queer old house next door. He says it's known all +around here as 'Benedict's Folly.'" + +"Why?" queried Janet. + +"Well, because years and years ago, when the owner built it (his name +was Benedict), it was 'way out of the city limits, and everybody thought +he was awfully foolish, going so far, and building a handsome city house +off in the wilderness. But he wasn't so foolish after all, for the city +came right up and surrounded him in the end, and the property is worth +no end of money now. + +"But here's the queer thing about it. Old Mr. Benedict's been dead many +years, and the place looks as if no one lived there--but _some one +does_! It's a daughter of his, a queer little old lady, who keeps +herself shut up there all the time; some think she's alone, others say +no, that some one else is there with her. No one seems to know +definitely. Anyhow, although she is very wealthy, she does all the work +herself, and the marketing; and she even carries home all the things, +and won't allow a single one of the tradesmen to come in. + +"Mr. Simmonds (that's our janitor) says that two years ago, in the +winter, a water-pipe there burst, and Miss Benedict just _had_ to get a +plumber; and he afterward told awfully peculiar things about the way the +house looked,--the furniture all draped and covered up, and even the +pictures on the walls covered, too,--and not a single modern improvement +except the running water and some old-fashioned gas-fixtures. And the +little old lady never raised her veil while he was there, so he couldn't +see what she looked like. + +"Mr. Simmonds says every one thinks there is some great mystery about +'Benedict's Folly,' but no one seems to be able to guess what it can +be. Now, Janet, isn't that just fascinating? Think of living next door +to a mystery!" + +"It's simply thrilling!" sighed Janet. "But, Marcia, I still don't see +what this has to do with a _secret_. Where do _you_ come in? I don't see +why you couldn't have written all this to me." + +"Wait!" said Marcia. "I haven't finished yet. That was absolutely all I +could get out of our maid Eliza, all she or any one else knew, in fact. +But as you can imagine, I couldn't get the thing out of my mind, and I +couldn't stop looking at the old place, either. I tried to talk to Aunt +Minerva about it, but she wasn't a bit interested. Said she couldn't +understand how any one could keep house in that slovenly fashion, and +that's all she would say. So I gave up trying to interest _her_. + +"Now, I must tell you the odd thing that happened that very night. You +know I've said it was raining hard all that day, and by ten o'clock the +wind was blowing a gale. I was just ready for bed, and had turned off +my light and raised the shade, when I thought I'd take another peep at +my mysterious mansion across the fence. All I could see, however, were +just some streaks of light through the chinks in the shutters in that +one room on the second floor. All the rest of the place was as dark as a +pocket. And as I sat staring out, it suddenly came to me what fun it +would be to try to unravel the whole mysterious affair all by myself. It +would certainly help me to pass the dull days till you came! + +"But then, too, the only way to do it would be to watch this old place +like a cat, and I knew _that_ wouldn't be right. It would be too much +like spying into your neighbor's affairs, and, of course, that's horrid. +Finally, I concluded, that if I could do it without being meddlesome or +prying, I'd just watch the place a _little_ and see if anything +interesting would happen. And while I was thinking this, a strange thing +_did_ happen--that very minute! + +"The wind had grown terrific, and, all of a sudden, it just took one of +the shutters of that lighted room, and ripped it from its fastening, +and threw it back against the wall. And the next moment a figure hurried +to the window, leaned out, and drew the shutter back in place again. But +just for one instant I had caught a glimpse of the whole inside of the +room! And what do you suppose I saw, Jan?" + +"_What?_" demanded Janet. + +"Well, not much of the furnishing, except a lighted oil-lamp on a table. +But, directly in the center of the room, in a perfectly enormous +armchair sat--a woman! And it wasn't the one I'd seen in the afternoon, +either. I'm sure of that. I couldn't see her face, for it was in shadow, +but she was looking down at something spread out on her lap. And she +held her right hand over it in the air and waved it back and forth, sort +of uncertainly. You can't imagine what a strange picture it was--and +then the shutter was closed. There was something so _weird_ about it +all. + +"If I was curious before, I was simply _wild_ with interest then. It +seemed as if I _must_ know what it all meant--what that strange old lady +could be doing, sitting there in state in the middle of the room, and +all the rest of it. You don't blame me, do you, Jan?" + +"Indeed I don't! I'd be ten times worse, I guess. But what about the +_secret_? And _did_ you find out anything else?" + +"Yes, I did. And that's the secret. The whole mysterious thing is in the +secret, because no one but you knows I'm the least interested in the +affair, and I don't want them to--now! I'll tell you what happened +next." + +But just at this moment they were interrupted by a knock at the door, +and a voice inquiring: + +"Girls, _girls_! haven't you gone to bed yet? I've heard you talking for +the last hour." + +"No, Aunt Minerva!" answered Marcia, "we are sitting by the window." + +"Well, you must go to bed _at once_! It's nearly midnight. You won't +either of you be fit for a thing to-morrow. Now, mind, not another word! +Good-night!" + +"Good-night!" they both answered, but heaved a sigh when Aunt Minerva +was out of hearing. + +"It's no use!" whispered Marcia. "We'll have to stop for to-night. But +there's lots more, and the _most_ interesting part of it, too. Well, +never mind, I'll tell you all the rest to-morrow!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE FACE BEHIND THE SHUTTER + + +Janet had no sooner hopped out of bed next morning than she flew to the +window to examine "Benedict's Folly" by broad daylight. In the streaming +sun of a June morning the dingy old mansion certainly bore out the truth +of Marcia's mysterious description. + +"Gracious! I should think you would have been interested in it from the +first!" she exclaimed. + +"Interested in what?" yawned Marcia, sleepily, opening her eyes. + +"'Benedict's Folly,' of course! Let's see," went on Janet, who possessed +a very practical, orderly mind; "from your story last night it seems +there must be two people living there--but look here! how did you know, +Marcia, that it was another old lady you saw that night when the shutter +blew open?" + +"Why, for several reasons," answered Marcia. "In the first place, the +one who goes out is short and slight. The one sitting in the chair was +evidently large, and rather stout, and--and different, somehow, although +I didn't see either of their faces. And then, it wasn't the lady in the +chair who closed the shutter. She evidently never moved. So it _must_ +have been some one else." + +"Yes, it must have been," agreed Janet, convinced. "Queer that nobody +seems to know about the second one. I wonder who she is? And are there +any more? Go on with your story, Marcia." + +"No," said Marcia. "Wait till we can be by ourselves for a long while. I +don't want to be interrupted. Aunt Minerva's going out this morning, and +then we'll have a chance." + +So, later in the morning, the two girls sat by Marcia's window, each +occupied with a dainty bit of embroidery, and Marcia began anew: + +"Well, after that rainy night, for several days I didn't see a thing +more that was interesting about the old house or the queer people who +live in it. I used to watch once in a while to see if the little lady in +black would go out again in the afternoon, as she did before, but she +didn't. Then, a day or two later, I did something that surprised even +myself, for I hadn't the faintest _intention_ of doing it. I had been +taking a walk that afternoon and was just coming home, passing on the +way the high brick wall of the Benedict house. It was just as I reached +the closed gate that an idea popped into my head. + +"You know, they say that no visitors are ever admitted, and no rings or +knocks at the gate are ever answered. Well, something suddenly prompted +me to ring that bell and see what would happen. I never stopped to ask +myself what I should say if some one came and inquired what I wanted. I +just rang it suddenly (and I had to pull hard, the old thing was so +rusty) and far away somewhere in the house I heard a faint tinkle. + +"Then I got kind of panic-stricken, wondering what I'd say if any one +did really come. But I needn't have worried, for what do you suppose +happened?" + +"Nothing!" answered Janet, promptly. + +"That's just where you're mistaken; but you'd never guess what it was. +About a minute after I'd rung the bell, I heard light footsteps on the +walk behind the gate. _But_, instead of coming _toward_ the gate, they +were hurrying _away_ from it; and in another minute I heard the front +door close. After that it was all quiet, and nothing else happened. Then +I went on home." + +"I know," interrupted Janet, whose quick mind had already worked out the +problem, "exactly what occurred. It was Miss Benedict, who had been just +about to come out on her way to do the marketing. And your ring +frightened her, and sent her hurrying back into the house. _Isn't_ it +all singular!" + +"Yes, that must have been it," agreed Marcia. "And it made me more +curious than ever to understand about it. And I was so annoyed at myself +for ringing at all. If I hadn't, I might have seen Miss Benedict close +by, when she came out of the gate. It served me right for doing such a +thing, anyhow! + +"But after that I got to watching, every time I went out, thinking I +might see her on the street somewhere, especially if it was about the +time she usually did her marketing--along toward dusk. Several days +passed, however, and I never did. I _had_ thought of watching from my +window to see when she went out, and then following her. But that didn't +seem right, somehow. It would be too much like spying on her. So I just +concluded I'd trust to chance. And luck favored me at last, one morning, +about a week after I'd rung her bell. + +"It happened that the night before, Eliza suddenly discovered we were +all out of oatmeal for breakfast, and I promised her I'd get some very +early in the morning, when I went to take my walk. You know, I've found +that on these warm summer days in the city it's much pleasanter to take +a walk in the real early morning than to wait till later in the day, +when it's crowded and hot. And I always used to love walking in the +early morning, up in Northam. + +"Well, anyhow, I got up that day about six. I knew that no stores near +here would be open so early, and I decided to walk over toward the other +side of town. It's a sort of poor section there, and the stores often +open up quite early, so that folks can do their marketing before they go +to work. It was a beautiful, cool morning, and I was quite enjoying +myself when--Jan, _what_ do you think?--I looked up, and about half a +block ahead of me was a little black figure with a market-basket, +hurrying along. I _knew_ it was Miss Benedict! + +"Can you imagine my surprise--and delight? I suddenly made up my mind +I'd keep behind her, and go into the same store she did. There could +surely be no harm in _that_! And by and by I saw her turn into a little +grocery-shop; and a minute or two after in I walked, went to the +counter, and stood right near her. There was no one in the store beside +ourselves and the grocer. He looked sleepy, and was yawning while he +wrapped up something for her. He asked me to 'Wait a minute, please!' +which, of course, I was only too delighted to do, as it gave me a +perfect right to stand close by my mysterious little neighbor and hear +her speak. + +"And it was right there, Janet, that I got the surprise of my life. She +still wore her black veil, and it was so thick that not a bit of her +face could be seen. Her dress was the most old-fashioned thing--it +looked twenty years old, if not more. I don't know what sort of a voice +I had expected to hear, but it was nothing in the least like what I +_did_ hear. + +"I can't exactly describe it to you, Jan, but it was the most beautiful +_speaking_ voice I've ever heard in my life! It was soft, and +flute-like, and so--so _appealing_! It somehow went straight to my +heart. It made me feel as if I wanted to take _care_ of Miss Benedict, +somehow, I can't exactly explain it. Even when she was speaking of such +commonplace things as butter and eggs and sugar, it was like--like +_music_! + +"Well, in a few moments she had finished, and the grocer packed her +things in her basket, and she went away. I had to stay, of course, and +get my oatmeal, and I didn't see her again. But being so close to her +and hearing that lovely voice had changed my whole feeling about her. At +first, I had just been interested and awfully _curious_ about the whole +mysterious affair, and, I'll confess, just a wee bit repelled by the +account of the queer little lady and the strange way she lived. I wanted +to know the explanation of the mystery, but I didn't particularly want +to know _her_. But after that, I felt different,--sort of bewitched by +that beautiful voice. I wanted to _help_ that Miss Benedict. I wanted to +_do_ something for her, or try to make her happier, or--or _something_, +I couldn't quite explain what. And I wanted--oh, so much!--to see her +_face_, and know what she was like, and more about _herself_. Can you +understand, Jan?" + +"Indeed, I can. But do go on. Did you ever meet her again?" + +"No, I didn't. But I've seen--and heard--something else that's strange, +more strange than all the rest!" + +"Tell me, quick!" demanded Janet. + +"Two nights ago, I sat here by the window. It was too hot to turn on the +light, but it was very dark outside. Presently I heard footsteps in the +Benedict garden. They were light, quick footsteps, and sounded exactly +as if some one were running about, or skipping and jumping. First I +thought it must be a big dog, for it couldn't possibly have been either +one of those two old ladies, running and skipping that way! And then I +heard a soft humming, as if some one were singing a tune half under the +breath. And then, very soon after, a door opened, and a voice called +out, very softly, 'Come in, now!' And after that all was quiet. Now, +Janet McNeil, I'm simply positive there's _some one else_ in that house +beside the two old ladies,--some one who hasn't been seen yet. What do +you make of it?" + +"You must be right," replied Janet, thoughtfully. "It _couldn't_ be +either of them running about in the garden in the dark and humming a +tune. It isn't at all what they'd be likely to do. I think it must be +some one else, more--more _human_ and natural, somehow. And younger, +too. But what on _earth_ do they all keep so shut up for, and act as if +they were afraid to be seen! It's the queerest thing I ever heard of. +You certainly _have_ moved next door to a 'dark-brown mystery,' Marcia!" + +For the ensuing hour the girls embroidered steadily and discussed +"Benedict's Folly" and its inmates in all their peculiar phases. But, +turn and twist it as they might, they could find no answer to the +riddle. After a while, Janet changed the subject. + +"By the way, Marcia, how are you coming on with your violin practice? +Have you begun taking lessons here yet? You know that was one of the +principal things you folks moved to the city for,--so that you could +study with the best teachers." + +"Yes, I've begun with Professor Hardwick," said Marcia, "and I've +practised quite hard lately. It's about all I had to do. He says I've +made some progress already." + +"Oh, _do_ get your violin and play some for me!" begged Janet. "I'm +just starving for some good music. I haven't heard any since you left +Northam." + +So Marcia obligingly went to the parlor and brought back her violin. +When she had tuned it and tucked it lovingly under her chin, she sat +down in the window-seat and ran her bow over the strings in a shower of +liquid melody. For one so young she played astonishingly well. Janet +listened, breathless, absorbed. + +"Marcia dear, you _have_ improved!" she exclaimed, as her chum stopped +for a moment. "Now do play my favorite!" Marcia laid her bow on the +strings once more, and slipped into the tender reverie of the +"Träumerei." But before it was half finished, Janet, wide-eyed with +astonishment, laid her hand on Marcia's arm. + +"Look!" she breathed. Marcia followed the direction of her gaze, and +turned to stare out of the window at the house opposite. And this is +what she saw: + +The shutter of a window on the top floor had been pushed partly open, +and a face looked out,--a face with big, appealing eyes, and a frame of +golden, curling hair falling all about it. Straight over at the two in +the window it gazed, eager, absorbed, delighted. And then suddenly, as +it detected their own interested stare, it withdrew, and the shutter was +softly closed. + +The two girls drew a long breath and gazed at each other. + +"Janet,--_what_ did I tell you! There _is_ some one else in that house!" +cried Marcia. + +"I guess you're right!" admitted Janet, quieter, but no less excited. +"But do you realize who that third person _is_, Marcia Brett? It isn't +an old lady; it's some one just about our own age--it's a young +_girl_!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE GATE OPENS + + +For the two ensuing days, Marcia and Janet, tense with excitement, +discussed the most recently discovered inmate of "Benedict's Folly," and +watched incessantly for another glimpse of the face behind the shutter. +How was it, they constantly demanded of each other, that a girl of +fourteen or fifteen had come to be shut up in the dreary old place? Was +she a prisoner there? Was she a relative, friend, or servant? Was she +free to come and go? + +To the latter question they unanimously voted "No!" How could she be +aught else but a prisoner when she was never seen going in or out, was +forced to take her exercise after nightfall in the dark garden, and was +kept constantly behind closed shutters? No girl of that age in her +right mind could deliberately _choose_ a life like that! + +"Do you suppose she has always lived there?" queried Marcia, for the +twentieth time. And as Janet could answer it no better than herself, she +propounded another question: + +"And why do you suppose she opened the shutter and looked out, seeming +so delighted, when I played, and then drew in again so quickly when we +noticed her? Is _she_ afraid of being seen, too?" + +"Evidently," said Janet. "She must be as full of mystery as the rest of +them. And yet--I _can't_, somehow, feel that she _is_ like them; she's +so sweet and young and--oh, _you_ know what I mean!" + +Of course she knew, but it didn't help them in the least to solve this +latest phase of their mystery. Finally Marcia, who still clung a bit +shyly to the fairy lore of her earlier years, declared: + +"I believe she's a regular _Cinderella_, kept there to do all the hard +work of the place by those queer old ladies, and I shouldn't be a bit +surprised if she's down in the kitchen this minute, cleaning out the +ashes of the stove! Come, Jan, let's go for a walk, and when we come +back I'll play on the violin by the window. Maybe our little +_Cinderella_ will peep out again!" + +The two girls put on their hats and strolled out for their usual +afternoon walk and treat of ice-cream soda. But they had gone no farther +from their own door than the length of the Benedict brick wall when they +were suddenly brought to a halt in front of the closed gate by hearing a +sound on the other side of it. It was a sound indicative of some one's +struggling attempt to open it--the click of a key turning and turning in +the lock and the futile rattling of the iron knob. And then the sound of +a voice murmuring: + +"Oh, dear! What _shall_ I do? I can't get this open!" + +"Janet," whispered Marcia, "that's _not_ the voice of Miss Benedict! I +_know_ it! I believe it's _Cinderella_, and she's trying to run away! +What shall we do--stay here?" + +"No," Janet whispered back. "Let's just stroll on a little way, and then +turn back. We can see what happens then without seeming to be watching." + +They walked on quickly for a number of yards, and then turned to +approach the gate again. Even as they did so they saw it open, and out +stepped a little figure. + +It was not Miss Benedict! The slim, trim little girlish form was clad in +plain dark clothes of a slightly unfamiliar cut. But the face was the +one that had appeared in the upper window, and the thick golden curls +were surmounted by a black velvet tam-o'-shanter. On her arm she carried +a small market-basket, and her eyes had a bewildered, almost frightened, +look. + +In their excited interest Marcia and Janet had, quite unconsciously, +stopped short where they were and waited to see which way their +_Cinderella_ would turn. But though they stood so for an appreciable +moment, she turned neither way, and only stood, her back to the gate, +gazing uncertainly to the right and left. And then, perceiving them, she +seemed to take a sudden resolution, and turned to them appealingly. + +"Oh, please, _could_ you direct me how to find this?" she asked, holding +out a slip of paper. Marcia hurried to her side and read the written +address. And when she had read it, she realized that it was the little +grocery-shop on the other side of town where she had once encountered +Miss Benedict. + +"Why, certainly!" she cried. "You walk over five blocks in that +direction, then turn to your left and down three. You can't miss it; +it's right next to a shoemaker's place." + +The child looked more bewildered than ever, and her eyes strayed to the +busy street-crossing near which they stood, crowded with hurrying trucks +and automobiles. + +"Thank you!" she faltered. "Do I go this way?" And then, with sudden +candor, "You see, I'm strange in these streets." Her voice was clear and +pretty, but her accent markedly un-American. Both girls half +consciously noted it. + +"See here," said Marcia; "would you care to have us take you there? +We're not going in any special direction, and I've been there before." + +An infinitely relieved expression came over the girl's face. "Oh, +_would_ you be so kind? I'm just--just scared to death on these +streets!" + +They turned to accompany her, one on each side, and piloted her safely +across the busy avenue. Then, in the quiet stretch of the next block, +they proceeded together in complete and embarrassing silence. + +It was a silence that Marcia and Janet had fully expected their +companion to break--possibly to reveal some reason for her errand and +her strangeness in the streets. They themselves hesitated to say much, +for fear of seeming curious or anxious to force her confidence. But she +said not a word. The strain at last became too much for Janet. + +"I don't blame you for feeling nervous in these city streets," she +began. "I'm a country girl myself, and I act like a scared rabbit +whenever I go out alone here." The girl turned to her with a little +confiding gesture. + +"I've never been out in them alone before," she said. Then there was +another silence during which Marcia and Janet both searched frantically +in their minds for something else to say. But it was the girl herself +who broke the silence the second time. + +"Thank you for your music the other day," she said, turning to Marcia. +"I heard you. I often hear you and listen." + +"Oh, I'm so glad you liked it!" cried Marcia. "Do you care for music?" + +"I adore it," she replied simply. + +"Look here!" exclaimed Marcia, suddenly; "how did you know it was I that +played the violin?" + +"Because I've watched you often--through the slats!" + +Marcia and Janet exchanged glances. So the watching was not all on +_their_ side of the fence! Here was a revelation! + +"That last thing you played the other day--will you--will you tell me +what it was?" went on their new companion, shyly. + +"Why, that was Schumann's 'Träumerei,'" answered Marcia. "I love it, +don't you?" + +"Yes but I never heard it before; that is, I never _remember_ hearing +it, and yet--somehow I seemed to _know_ it. I can't think why. I don't +understand. It's as if I'd _dreamed_ it, I think." + +Marcia and Janet again exchanged glances. What a strange child this was, +who talked of having "dreamed" music that was quite familiar to almost +every one. + +"Perhaps you heard it at a concert," suggested Janet. + +"I never went to a concert," she replied, much to their amazement. And +then, perceiving their surprise, she added: + +"You see, I've always lived 'way off in the country, in just a little +village--till now." + +"Oh--yes," answered Janet, pretending enlightenment, though in truth she +and Marcia were more bewildered than ever. + +But by this time they had reached the little grocery-shop, and all +proceeded inside while their new friend made her purchases. These she +read off slowly from a slip of paper, and the grocer packed them in her +basket. But when it came to paying for them and making change, she +became entangled in a fresh puzzle. + +"I think you said these eggs were a shilling?" she ventured to the +grocer. + +"Shilling--no! I said they were a quarter," he retorted impatiently. + +"A quarter?" she queried, and turned questioning eyes to her two +friends. + +"He means this," said Marcia, picking out a twenty-five-cent piece from +the change the girl held. + +"Oh, thank you! I don't understand this American money," she explained. +And Marcia and Janet added another query to their rapidly growing mental +list. + +On the way back home, however, she grew silent again, and though the +girls chatted back and forth about quite impersonal matters,--the +crowded streets, the warm weather, the sights they passed,--she was not +to be drawn into the conversation. And the nearer they drew to their +destination, the more depressed she appeared to become. At last they +reached the gate. + +"Shall you be going out again to-morrow?" ventured Marcia. "If so, we +will go with you, if you care to have us, till you get used to the +streets." + +The girl gave her a sudden, pleased glance. "I--I don't know," she said. +"You see, Miss Benedict hurt her ankle a day or two ago, and she can't +get around much, so--so I'm doing this for her. If she wants me to go +to-morrow, I will. I'd be _so_ glad to go with you. How shall I let you +know?" + +"Just hang a white handkerchief to your shutter before you go, and we'll +see it. We'll watch for it!" cried Marcia, inventing the signal on the +spur of the moment. And then, impetuously, she added: + +"My name is Marcia Brett, and this is Janet McNeil. Won't you tell us +yours, if we're to be friends?" + +"I'm Cecily Marlowe," she answered, "and I'm _so_ glad to know you." As +she spoke she was fumbling with the big key in the lock of the gate, and +as the latter swung open, she turned once more to face them, with a +little pent-up sob: "I don't know why I'm here--and I'm _so_ lonely!" +Then, frightened at having revealed so much, she turned quickly away and +shut the gate. + +As they listened to her footsteps retreating up the path and the closing +of the front door Marcia and Janet turned to each other, a thousand +questions burning on their tongues. But all they could exclaim in one +breath was: + +"Did you _ever_!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BACKWARD GLANCE + + +The next twenty-four hours were spent in delightful speculation. So her +name was Cecily Marlowe! Was she any relation of Miss Benedict? +"Marlowe" and "Benedict" were certainly dissimilar enough. + +"But then she might be a relation on Miss Benedict's mother's side," +suggested Marcia. + +"Does it sound likely when you think what she said just at the +last--that she didn't know why she was there?" replied Janet, +scornfully. "She couldn't be in doubt about it if she were a _relation_, +either come on a visit or there to stay!" Which argument settled _that_ +question. + +"But where do you suppose she has come from?" marveled Marcia. "She said +she'd always lived in a little country village, and she didn't know a +thing about American money. She's foreign--that's certain. Even her +clothes and her way of speaking show it. But from where?" + +"Did you notice that she said 'shilling'?" suggested Janet. "That shows +she must be English. She _looks_ English. Now will you tell me how she +could get 'way over here from England and not know why she had come?" + +"It sounds as if she might have been kidnapped," said Marcia. "Why, +Janet! this is precisely like a mystery in a book. Do you _realize_ it? +And here we are living right next door to it! It's too good to be true!" + +Janet's mind had, however, gone off on another tack. "I can't understand +that remark she made about the music. 'Träumerei' is certainly about as +well known as any piece of classic music. She said she never remembered +hearing it, and yet it seems somehow familiar to her. Can you make +anything out of _that_?" + +Marcia couldn't. "Maybe it's all just a notion," she suggested +helplessly. "Suppose I play some on the violin here in our window right +now. She seems to enjoy it so. And maybe she'll open her shutter +again." + +So they sat on the window-seat, and Marcia played her very best, +including the "Träumerei," but no golden head appeared from behind the +shutter that afternoon. + +"Never mind," said Janet. "We'll see her to-morrow, most likely. Perhaps +she's busy downstairs now." + +"But isn't she the prettiest little thing!" mused Marcia, reminiscently. +"The loveliest big blue eyes, and curly golden hair, and such a +_trusting_ look in her face, somehow! It went right down to the very +bottom of my heart, if it doesn't sound silly to put it that way." + +"Yes, I know," agreed Janet. "I felt the same way. But doesn't it strike +you queer that--" + +"Oh, the whole thing's queer!" interrupted Marcia. "The queerest I ever +heard of. I guess you agree with me now, Janet, that I had a secret +worth talking about in 'Benedict's Folly.' But let's wait till to-morrow +and see what happens." + +The morrow came and went, however, and nothing happened at all. Hour +after hour the two girls watched for the signal of the white +handkerchief, but every shuttered window of the old mansion remained +blank. Neither did any one go in or out of the gate. Late in the +afternoon Marcia played again at the window, but the sweetest music +called forth not a single sign from behind the walls of the house next +door. Janet had but one solution to offer. + +"They probably didn't need any marketing done to-day, so she naturally +didn't go out." + +"But why couldn't she have at least looked out a moment from her +window?" cried Marcia, disconsolately. "Surely that would have been easy +to do, when she said she cared so much for the music. She must have +_known_ I was playing just for her!" + +"She may have been somewhere in the house where she couldn't. You can't +tell, and oughtn't to blame her without knowing," declared Janet, +defending the conduct of the mysterious Cecily. "To-morrow we'll see her +again, no doubt." + +On the morrow her prophecy was fulfilled. They did see her again, but +under circumstances so peculiar that they were quite dumfounded. + +All the morning they watched and waited in vain for some signal from the +upper window. But none came. And the main part of the afternoon passed +in precisely the same way. They sat very conspicuously in their own +window-seat, so that there could be no doubt in Cecily's mind about +their being at home. Marcia even did a little violin practice while they +waited. And still there was no sign. Suddenly, about five o'clock, Janet +clutched at her chum's arm. + +"Look!" she cried. + +Marcia looked, and down the path from the front door of the strange +house she saw Cecily, dressed to go out, approaching the gate. It was +plain that she was bound on another marketing expedition for the basket +hung from her arm. + +"_Well!_ what do you make of that!" exclaimed Marcia in bewilderment. +"Did she signal to us?" + +"No, she didn't," returned Janet. "I've watched every minute. She +_couldn't_ have forgotten it. But, do you know, there may be some very +good reason why she didn't--or couldn't--and perhaps she's hoping we'll +see her, and be on hand outside, anyway, as we promised." + +"But she _must_ have seen us sitting in the window," argued Marcia. "She +might at least have looked up and waved her hand, or nodded, or +smiled--or something!" + +Cecily, meanwhile, was fumbling with the lock of the big old gate, which +seemed, as on a former occasion, to give her a great deal of trouble. + +"Come," cried Janet to Marcia. "We'll just about have time to catch her +if we hurry." And seizing their hats, the girls hastened downstairs. +Their front door closed behind them just as Cecily came abreast of them. +What happened next was like a blow in the face! + +[Illustration: Cecily Marlowe passed them by without a look] + +They had started forward, each with a friendly smile, expecting their +new companion to meet them in similar fashion. To their amazement, +Cecily Marlowe, after the first sudden look into their faces, dropped +her eyes, and passed them by without a glance, precisely as if they were +utter strangers to her. + +Both girls gasped, stared at her departing figure till she turned the +corner, and then into each other's faces. + +"The ungrateful little thing!" Marcia presently exploded. "If that +wasn't the 'cut direct,' I've never seen it before!" + +"An unmistakable way of telling us to mind our own business!" even Janet +had to admit. "How humiliating! And yet--" + +"Yet--what?" demanded Marcia, indignantly. "You're surely not going to +try to excuse such inexcusable conduct as _that_! I see very plainly +what's happened. She's thought it over and decided that we were +meddlesome and just trying to _push_ an acquaintance with her, and she +thinks she's a little too exclusive for that kind of thing, and the +simple remedy was to 'cut us dead'!" Marcia was quite out of breath when +she finished this summing up. + +"It _does_ look like it," Janet admitted. "But somehow, even yet, I +can't feel that she _wanted_ to do it--of her own accord, I mean." + +But Marcia couldn't see it in that light. They discussed the question +hotly, still standing on the front stoop of the apartment. So long, in +fact, did they argue it back and forth, turning and twisting the sorry +little occurrence, viewing it in every possible light, that before they +realized it, Cecily was returning, her errands accomplished. How she had +managed to find her way and cross the streets in safety, they could only +conjecture. + +To reach her own gate, she had to pass directly by where they were +standing, and they saw her approaching down the block. + +"Here she comes," muttered Marcia. "Now, let's stand right here and +watch her as she goes by. She can't _help_ but see us. We'll give her +one more chance to do the proper thing." + +And so they waited, breathless, expectant, while the girl came rapidly +on, her eyes cast down, watching the pavement. But even when she was +quite in front of them, she did not once look up, and without comment +their gaze followed her retreating figure to the gate. + +As she fitted the big key and swung the gate open, they were just about +to turn to each other in angry impatience when something else happened. + +Cecily Marlowe turned her head and looked back at them for one long, +tense moment. It was such a wistful, imploring look, a gaze so full of +appeal for forgiveness, so plainly in contrast with her recent conduct, +that their hearts melted at once. + +Simultaneously they waved their hands and smiled at her, and she smiled +back in return, the most adorable little smile in the world, full of +trust and confidence and utter friendliness. + +Then she hurried in and closed the gate, leaving her two new friends +outside more bewildered than ever. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE HANDKERCHIEF IN THE WINDOW + + +The next day was spent by the two girls in an expedition to one of the +near-by ocean beaches with Aunt Minerva. Under ordinary circumstances it +was a treat that would have delighted their hearts. But, as matters +stood, they only chafed with impatience to be back at their bedroom +window, watching the house next door. The date for the trip, however, +had been set some time before, and Aunt Minerva would have thought it +very strange if they had begged off, for such flimsy reason as they +could have offered. + +The day after found them again on watch, though what they expected to +see they couldn't have told. It was plain that, in spite of appearances, +Cecily Marlowe's friendly feeling toward them was undiminished. The +charming backward smile had indicated _that_ unmistakably. But how to +make it fit in with her refusal to signal and her forbidding conduct +they could not understand, and the mystery kept them in a constant +ferment of surmise. + +But even as they sat discussing it next morning, their fancy-work lying +unheeded in their laps, they looked out suddenly with a simultaneous +gasp of astonishment and delight. There was a tiny white handkerchief +attached to the shutter in the upper window and fluttering in the +breeze! + +"It's the signal--our signal!" cried Marcia. "Now what shall we +do?--show that we've seen it by waving something? Here's my red silk +scarf." + +"No," decided Janet. "Perhaps she'd rather not have us do anything that +might attract attention. Let's go right down to the street, as we said +we would, and see if she's there." + +They lost not a moment's time in reaching their front steps. But there +was no sign of Cecily till they had come abreast of the Benedict gate. +This they discovered ajar, and two blue eyes peeping out of a narrow +crack. As they came in sight, there was a smothered exclamation, "Oh! +I'm so glad!" The gate opened wider, and Cecily stood before them. + +"You are _so_ good!" she began at once, in a low voice, stretching out +both hands to them. "I was afraid you--you wouldn't come. I left the +signal there almost all day yesterday--" + +"We were away!" cried Marcia, promptly. "I'm _so_ sorry. We went--" + +"Oh, then--oh, it's all right!" breathed Cecily, in relief. "I was sure +you were angry at--at the way--I acted." + +It was on the tip of Marcia's tongue to demand why she _had_ acted so, +but she refrained. And Cecily hurried on: + +"I--I just had to signal for you. I--we are in great trouble--and I +don't know what to do." + +"Oh, what _is_ it?" cried both girls together. + +"Miss--Miss Benedict is very ill," she continued hesitatingly. "She--she +fell and hurt her ankle the other day, and--it's been getting worse +ever since. She's in bed--suffering great pain both yesterday and +to-day. It's terribly swelled--" + +"But why doesn't she send for a doctor?" interrupted Janet, hastily. +"She _ought_ to have one if it's as bad as that." + +"I asked her that, too, yesterday, and she only said: 'No, no! I cannot, +must not have a doctor, child!' And when I asked what I could do for +her, she answered, 'I don't know, I'm sure!' So there she lies--just +suffering. And--and I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I +signaled to you. You are my only friends--in all this city!" + +There was something infinitely pathetic about the way she brought out +this last statement. It touched the hearts of both her listeners, and +because of it they inwardly forgave her, once and for all, for any +action of hers that had offended them. And they had the good sense not +to comment on the strangeness of Miss Benedict's behavior. + +"Well, if she won't have a doctor, we must think what else there is to +be done," began Janet, practically. + +"I wish you'd let me bring Aunt Minerva in to see her," said Marcia. +"She hurt her ankle just like that, two years ago, and she'd know +exactly what--" + +"Oh, no, no!" cried Cecily, starting forward. "Miss Benedict would not +want that--does not want to see any one. Please--_please_ do not even +_mention_ to your aunt anything about her--or me! Miss Benedict would +not wish it." + +The request was certainly very peculiar, but the girls were able to +conceal their surprise, great as it was. "Very well," said Marcia, +soothingly. "If you'd rather have it that way, we certainly won't speak +of it. But I've just had another idea. I remember Aunt Minerva had a +certain kind of salve that she used for her ankle, and she kept it +tightly bandaged on. It did her lots of good--cured her, in fact. Now I +believe I could get that salve at a drug-store here--" + +"Oh, _could_ you?" exclaimed Cecily, in immense relief. "Let us go at +once." + +"But you needn't trouble to go," said Marcia. "We won't be ten minutes +and will come right back with it." + +"I prefer to go," replied Cecily Marlowe, with such an air of quiet +finality that neither dared to question it. All three started out, after +Cecily had locked the gate, and proceeded to the nearest drug-store. +Here Marcia made the purchase, and paid for it from the change in her +own hand-bag. But when they were outside the store Cecily turned to her +gravely: + +"I have a little English money of my own, but I did not like to offer it +in the shop. If you will--will tell me how much the salve cost--in +shillings--I will give it to you." And she held out several English +shillings to Marcia. + +"Oh, you needn't do that! I'm glad to be able to think of something to +do for Miss Benedict. It's such a little matter--" + +"Please!" reiterated Cecily. "I wish to tell her I bought it myself." + +"Why?" cried Marcia, and then the next moment wished she could recall a +question that seemed to border on the personal. + +"Because I--I dare not tell her I have--have been talking to you!" +hesitated Cecily, in an unusual burst of candor. And after that +revelation they all walked back to the gate in an uneasy silence. + +When they stood again in front of the blank barrier to the mysterious +house, Cecily turned to Marcia. + +"I love your music," she said. "I always listen to it whenever you play. +I knew you had been playing--just for me--these last few days, and I +wanted to look out of my window and--and wave to you, but--I must not. I +am always there when you play--listening. I wanted you to know it." + +"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried Marcia, delightedly. "I _hoped_ it would please +you. I'll play more than ever now. I'll do all my practising there, +too." + +"Cecily," said Janet, abruptly, venturing on personal ground for the +first time, "you are very lonely there, in that big house, with no other +young folks, aren't you?" + +"Yes," answered Cecily, speaking very low, and glancing in an uncertain +way at the gate. + +"Well, why don't you ask--er--Miss Benedict, if you couldn't run in and +visit us once in a while, or go out for a walk with us sometimes? Surely +she wouldn't object to that." + +"Oh, no, no!" cried Cecily, hastily. "I'd--oh, _how_ I'd love to, +but--but--it wouldn't do,--it wouldn't be allowed! No, I must not." +There was nothing more to be said. + +"At least, then," added Marcia, "you'll let us know if you need anything +else--you'll signal to us?" + +"Yes," said Cecily, "I'll do that." She got out the key, and unlocked +the gate. Then she faced them with a sudden, passionate sob. + +"You are so wonderfully good to me! I love you--both! You're all I have +to--care for!" + +Then the gate was shut, and they heard her footsteps fleeing up the +pathway. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +CECILY REVEALS HERSELF + + +That night the two girls held a council of war. + +"It's perfectly plain to me," said Marcia, "that that poor little thing +is right under Miss Benedict's thumb. I think the way she's treated is +scandalous--not allowed to go out, or speak to, or associate with, any +one! And scared out of her wits all the time, evidently. What on earth +is she there for, anyhow?" + +Janet scorned to reply to the old, unanswerable question. Instead she +remarked: + +"She's breaking her heart about it, too. I can see that. And, Marcia, +wasn't it strange--what she said just at the last--that she loved us, +and that we were all she had to care for! Where _can_ all her relatives +and family be? Miss Benedict certainly can't be a relative, for Cecily +calls her 'Miss.' To think of that lovely little thing without a soul +to care for her--except ourselves. Why, Marcia, it's--it's amazing! But +the main question now is what are we going to do about it? We _must_ +help her somehow!" + +"I know what _I'm_ going to do about it," replied Marcia, decisively. +"I'm going to tell Aunt Minerva about it, and see if she can't--" + +"Wait a minute," Janet reminded her. "You forget that Cecily fairly +begged us not to mention anything about her to any one." + +"That's so," said Marcia, looking blank. "What _are_ we going to do +then?" + +"There's only one thing I can think of," answered Janet, slowly. "Miss +Benedict may forbid Cecily to meet or speak to _us_, but she can't +forbid us meeting and speaking to Cecily, can she? So why can't we just +watch for Cecily to come out, and then go and join her? She can't stop +us--she can't help herself; and between you and me, I think she'll be +only too delighted!" + +"Good enough!" laughed Marcia. "But what an ogre that Miss Benedict must +be! I'm horribly disappointed about her. After I heard her speak that +time I was sure she must be lovely. It doesn't seem possible that any +one with such a wonderful, sympathetic voice could be so--so downright +hateful to a dear little thing like Cecily." + +"I must say it seems just horrid!" cried Janet, vehemently. + +That night, after darkness had fallen, the two girls, settling +themselves without a light at their open window, heard, as Marcia had +once before described, the sound of running feet in the garden beyond +the wall. This time there was no doubt in their minds about it. It was +certainly Cecily, taking a little exercise, probably on the deserted +path. + +"I wonder why she _runs_," marveled Marcia. "_I_ shouldn't feel like +running around there all by myself." + +"I think I can understand, though," added Janet. "She's cooped up all +day in that dreary old place, and probably has to keep awfully quiet. +I'd go crazy if I were shut in like that. I'd feel like--like jumping +hurdles when I got out of doors. And she's a country girl, too, +remember. Get your violin, Marcia, and play something. I know it will +comfort her to know we're near by and thinking of her." + +So Marcia brought her violin, and out into the darkness of the night +floated the dreamy, tender melody of the "Träumerei." The romance of the +situation appealed to her, and she played it as she never had before. + +At the first notes the running footsteps ceased, and there was silence +in the garden. When the music ended, they thought they could distinguish +a soft little sound, half sigh, half sob, from the velvet blackness +below; but they could not be sure. And a little later came the click of +a closing door. + +Marcia put down her violin. "The lonely, lonely little thing!" she +exclaimed, half under her breath. + + * * * * * + +For two days thereafter they maintained a constant, but fruitless, vigil +over "Benedict's Folly." Cecily did not appear, either at her window or +on a marketing expedition. Neither was there any sound of her footsteps +in the garden at night. + +The girls began to worry. Could it be that Miss Benedict had discovered +the truth about the remedy for her sprained ankle and had, perhaps, shut +Cecily up in close confinement, or even sent her away altogether? They +were by this time at a loss as to just what to think of that mysterious +lady. + +On the third afternoon, however, to their intense relief, they saw +Cecily emerge from the house and walk toward the gate, with the +market-basket on her arm. It took them just about a minute and a half to +reach the street. + +Cecily came abreast of their own door-step in due time, her eyes cast +down as usual; but they were waiting in the vestibule, and she did not +see them. + +She was well in advance, but still in sight, when they came down the +steps and strolled in the same direction. It was not till they had +turned the corner that they raced after her, and at last, breathless, +caught up with her. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, with a little start; "I--I did not expect to see +you to-day. I--you mustn't come with me!" In spite of her words, +however, it was evident that she was really delighted by their +unexpected appearance. + +"Look here, Cecily," began Marcia, "why can't we join you when you go to +market or are doing your errands?" + +"Oh, that would be lovely!" answered Cecily--"only Miss Benedict usually +asks me when I come in whether I have met or spoken to any one, and--I +can't tell what isn't true!" + +Here was a poser! The girls looked crestfallen. + +"No--you can't, of course," hesitated Janet. + +"And besides that," went on Cecily, "this is the last time I shall go, +anyhow, because she's very much better now,--the salve helped her ankle +very much,--and she says she's going out herself after this. I don't +expect to get out again." + +There was a moment of horrified silence after this blow. Then Janet, no +longer able to endure the bewilderment, burst out: + +"Cecily dear, please forgive us if we seem to be prying into your +affairs. It's only because we think so much of you. But who _is_ Miss +Benedict, and what is she to you?" + +"I don't know!" said Cecily slowly. + +"You _don't know_!" they gasped in chorus. + +"No, I really don't. It must seem very strange to you, and it does to +me. Miss Benedict is a perfect stranger to me, and no relation, so far +as I know. I never saw or heard of her before I came here." + +"But why _are_ you here then?" demanded Marcia. + +"I--don't know. It's all a mystery to me. But I'm so lonely I've cried +myself to sleep many a night." + +"Won't you tell us all about it?" begged Marcia. "We're your friends, +Cecily,--you say the only ones you have,--and we don't ask just out of +curiosity, but because we're interested in you, and--and love you." + +"Well, I will then," agreed the girl, as they walked along. "I'll just +tell you how it all happened. Ever since I can remember anything, I've +lived in Cranby, a little village in England. Mother and I lived there +together. We never went anywhere, not even up to London, because she was +never very strong. Father was dead; he died when I was a tiny baby, she +told me. We just had a happy, quiet life together, we two. + +"Well, about the beginning of this year, Mother was suddenly taken very, +very ill. I don't know what was the matter, but I hardly had time to +call in a neighbor and then bring the doctor." Cecily paused and choked +down a rising sob. + +"She--she just slipped away before we knew it," she went on, very low. +Marcia pressed her hand in wordless sympathy. Presently Cecily +continued: + +"Afterward, the neighbor, Mrs. Waddington, told me that while I was +fetching the doctor Mother had begged her to see that, if she didn't +recover, I should be taken over to New York, and left with a family +named Benedict, and she had Mrs. Waddington write down the address. But +just then Mother grew so much worse that she couldn't explain why I was +to be taken there, or what they were to me or I to them. After it was +all over we searched everywhere, hoping to find some papers or letters +or something that would tell, but we found nothing. So Mrs. Waddington +kept me with her for two or three months. Then a friend of hers, a Mrs. +Bidwell, was going to the States, and it was arranged that I should go +in her care. About two weeks before we sailed Mrs. Bidwell wrote to the +Benedict family, saying she was bringing me to New York. + +"So we sailed from Liverpool, and the very day we landed, Mrs. Bidwell +brought me here. We rang the old bell at the gate, and then waited and +waited. I thought no one would ever come. But at last the gate opened, +and Miss Benedict stood there in her hat and veil. + +"She acted very strangely from the first. Mrs. Bidwell told her all +about me, and she never said a single word, but only shook her head +several times. I thought she was certainly going to refuse to take me +in, her manner was so odd. After she had stood thinking a long time she +suddenly said to me, 'Come, then!' and to Mrs. Bidwell, 'I thank you!' +And she led me inside, followed by the driver with my box, and shut the +gate." Cecily stopped short, as if that were the end of the story. + +"Oh, but--go on!" stammered Marcia, quivering with impatience. + +"But I must do my marketing now," said Cecily. "Here we are at the shop. +I'll tell you the rest when we come out." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +SURPRISES ALL AROUND + + +"How long have you been in New York?" began Janet, when at last they +emerged from the little shop. + +"About two months," said Cecily. "And I've lived in that place all this +time, and have not known why. Miss Benedict has never explained. She +acts toward me as if I were a lodger, or--or some one she allowed to +stay there for reasons of her own, but didn't particularly want to have +about. She's kind to me, but never--friendly. Sometimes she looks at me +in the strangest way--I can't imagine what she's thinking about. But why +does she live like this?" and she turned inquiring eyes on the girls. + +"I'm sure _we_ don't know!" exclaimed Marcia. "We only wonder about it. +The house seems to be all shut up." + +"Why, it _is_!" Cecily enlightened them. "And it makes it so dark and +gloomy! There is lovely furniture in the drawing-room, but it is all +covered over with some brown stuff--even the pictures. And most of the +other rooms are not used at all--nothing on the ground floor. I eat down +in the basement, and my bedroom is on the top floor--where I looked out +that time. I have never been in any of the other bedrooms except Miss +Benedict's, when her ankle was bad." + +"But what do you do with yourself all day?" asked Janet. + +"I keep my room in order, and help Miss Benedict whenever she lets me. +Of course, she prepares all the food herself, but in such a pretty, +dainty way. But there are a good many hours when the time hangs so heavy +on my hands. Sometimes she lets me dust the rooms on the ground floor. +She keeps everything very, very neat, even if it is all covered up and +never used. The rest of the time I sit in my room and read the few books +I brought with me, and tell myself long stories, or listen to your +music. I dare not now even peep through the shutters. Once I opened +them, when you were playing, but Miss Benedict came in just then and +forbade me to do it again." + +"Doesn't she ever let you go out and take a walk or get a little +exercise?" questioned Marcia. + +"No, the only times I have gone out have been just lately, when her +ankle has been so bad. At night, after it is dark, she lets me run about +the garden a bit, but never in the daytime." + +"But how did she find out about your knowing _us_?" broke in Janet. + +"Why, of course I told her--that first time after you were so good to +me--all about meeting you, and how lovely you were to me. I thought +she'd be so glad I'd found such nice friends. But she looked so +queer--almost frightened, and she said: 'You must not speak to them +again. It was kind of them to help you, but you must not encourage them +in any way. Remember, child!' And I was only trying to obey her when I +passed you without looking up the second time I went out." + +"Cecily," said Marcia, suddenly, "what does Miss Benedict look like, +anyhow? Do you ever see her without that veil? Isn't she very old and +plain?" + +"Why, no," answered Cecily, simply. "She's very beautiful." + +"_What!_" they gasped in chorus. + +"Yes, I was surprised too, that day I came. After the driver had brought +my box into the hall (she wouldn't let him take it any farther), and she +had shut the door behind him and we were left alone, she seemed to--to +hesitate, but at last she raised her hands and took off her bonnet and +veil. I don't know what I expected, but I was surprised to see such a +lovely face. Her hair is gray, almost white, and so soft and wavy. And +yet she has rosy cheeks, and white teeth, and the most beautiful big +gray eyes. And her voice is very sweet, too. Do you know, I believe if +she'd only _let_ me, I could just love her, but she holds me off as if +she were somehow _afraid_ of me. It's all very strange." + +The girls were completely nonplussed by this latest bit of information, +and found it hard to couple Cecily's attractive picture with the little +black-robed and veiled figure that they knew as Miss Benedict. The voice +alone tallied, and Marcia recounted how she had once met Miss Benedict +in the little grocery-shop. Suddenly, however, she was struck by a new +thought, and demanded: + +"But how about the other one?" + +Cecily opened her eyes wide. "Other one?" she queried. "Oh, you mean the +other person in the house?" + +"Why, yes," said Marcia. "The other old lady who sits in the room on the +second floor." + +"Oh, _is_ it an old lady?" inquired Cecily, in surprise. + +"Why, of course! Didn't you know it?" exclaimed Marcia. + +"I knew there was _some_ one in there--some invalid. For Miss Benedict +has always warned me to be very quiet in going by that door, because +some one was ill in there. But she never told me who it was, nor +anything more about her. She always waits on her herself. Even when her +ankle was hurting her so, she would drag herself out of bed many times a +day to go into that room. But tell me, how did _you_ know there was an +old lady in there?" + +Then Marcia recounted what she had seen on the night the wind tore open +the shutter. "How strange this all is," she ended, "that Miss Benedict +should never tell you who this person is! Why do you suppose she is +keeping it a secret?" + +As this was a problem none of them could solve, they could only +conjecture vainly about it as they walked along. But by this time they +had approached within a block of the house itself, and before they +turned the corner once more they all unconsciously halted. + +"Cecily," said Marcia, suddenly inspired with a bright idea. "I have the +grandest scheme! If Miss Benedict is going to do the marketing after +this, perhaps we won't see you again for some time. But I've a plan by +which we can _hear_ from each other as often as we like. You take a walk +in the garden every night, don't you?" + +"No, not always," answered Cecily. "Miss Benedict allows me to, but +often I don't care to. It's so dark and--and lonesome." + +"Well, after this, be sure to go out every night. Our window, you know, +is directly over the garden wall, only three stories up. I'm going to +have a long string with a weight attached to it, and fasten it in the +window. Every night, after dark, we'll write a note to you, fasten it to +the string, and drop it down into the garden among the bushes. You can +find it in the dark by feeling for the string, and if you have one +written to us, you can fasten it on, and we'll pull it up. Isn't that a +dandy idea?" + +Cecily's eyes sparkled for a moment, but suddenly her face clouded. "Oh, +it--it would be glorious!" she murmured. "Only--I must not. Even if Miss +Benedict doesn't know about it, I know she would forbid it if she did. +So--it would be wrong for me to do it!" + +"Oh, Cecily! why should you care?" cried Marcia, impatiently, "And why +should she object to three girls sending little notes to one another? It +would be cruel to forbid that. It isn't really wrong, you know." + +"But she isn't cruel to me," Cecily interrupted. "You mustn't think +that. She--well, somehow, I feel she _would_ be nice to me, only +something is holding her back. She isn't a bit cruel. I sometimes feel +as if I could care for her in spite of everything. So I don't want to go +against her wishes." + +"Well, then," began Janet, "here's a way out of it. We will write to +_you_ anyway. Miss Benedict can't forbid us to do that, and you needn't +answer at all--needn't even read them, if you don't want to. But we'll +write, nevertheless, and you can't prevent it!" + +When Cecily smiled, her face lit up as if touched by a shaft of +sunlight. And she smiled now. + +"I don't believe I _ought_ to read them," she said; "but, oh! it would +keep me from being so very lonely. But I must be going back now. I've +been longer than usual. Good-by!" + +Cecily was still smiling as she turned away, while Janet and Marcia +stood looking after her, waving farewell to her as she rounded the +corner. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AT THE END OF THE STRING + + +It was past midnight, that night, before the two girls could settle +themselves for a wink of sleep. So bewildering had been Cecily's +revelations about herself and Miss Benedict and the conditions in the +mysterious house, that they found inexhaustible food for discussion and +conjecture. + +The most interesting question, of course, was the absorbing mystery of +how Cecily came to be there at all. + +"Why should her mother have sent her there?" demanded Marcia, for the +twentieth time. + +"Perhaps she was a relative," ventured Janet. + +"That's perfect nonsense," argued Marcia, "for then Miss Benedict would +surely have acted quite differently. If she had been the most distant +connection, Miss Benedict would surely have told her. No, I should say +she might be the child of a friend that Miss Benedict never cared +particularly about, and yet she doesn't quite like to send her away. +Isn't it a puzzle? But what _do_ you think of Miss Benedict being +_beautiful_! I can't imagine it!" + +"And then, too, think of Cecily's not knowing there was another old lady +in the house!" added Janet. + +"What a darling Cecily is!" exclaimed Marcia, irrelevantly. "If Miss +Benedict knew how sweet and loyal and obedient Cecily is, she'd be a +little less strict with her, I'm sure. I suppose she doesn't want her to +gossip about what goes on in that queer house. And, by the way, we must +get our string in working order to-morrow. Let's send her other things +beside notes, too--things she'd enjoy." + +And until they fell asleep they planned the campaign for lightening the +lonely hours of the girl next door. + +[Illustration: "They heard Cecily's light footsteps"] + +Next day they jointly wrote a long letter,--telling all about +themselves, their homes, their schools, their studies, and any other +items they thought might interest her,--fastened it to the end of the +string, and dropped it into the dark garden after nightfall. Later they +heard Cecily's light footsteps in the gloom below, and when they pulled +up the string just before they went to bed, the note was gone. + +"Well, she's evidently decided that it would be all right for her to +take it," said Janet; "and I'm relieved, even if she doesn't answer. I +can see why she mightn't think it right to do _that_. And now we must +plan to send her something besides, every once in a while. I should +think she'd just die of lonesomeness in that old place, and with hardly +a thing to do, either!" + +That night they sent her down a little box of fudge that they had made +in the afternoon, and the next night a book that had captivated them +both. And when they pulled up the string the evening after, there was +the book again, and in it a tiny note, which ran: + + DEAR GIRLS: You are too, too good to me. I ought not to be writing + this. It is wrong, I fear, but I just cannot sleep until I have + thanked you for the sweets, and this beautiful book. I read it + all, to-day. You are making me very happy. I love you both. + + CECILY. + +Meantime, they had seen Miss Benedict go in and out once or twice, +limping slightly, and had watched her veiled figure with absorbed +interest. + +"Who could possibly imagine her as beautiful!" they marveled. And truly, +it was an effort of imagination to connect beauty with the queer, oddly +arrayed little figure. + +Also, at various times during each day, Marcia made a point of giving a +little violin concert at her window, and, at Janet's suggestion, had +chosen the liveliest and most cheerful music in her repertoire for sad +little Cecily's entertainment. + +The two girls likewise exhausted every possibility in the line of small +gifts and tiny trifles to amuse and entertain their young neighbor. But +there was no further communication from her till one night after they +had sent down an embroidery ring and silks, the latest pattern of a +dainty boudoir-cap, and elaborate instructions how to embroider it. Next +night there was a note on the end of the string when they drew it up. It +read: + + How dear of you to send me this! I _love_ to embroider, and had + brought no materials with me. And now I want to ask you a + question. Do you mind what I do with it after it is finished? Is + it my very own? What can I ever do to repay you for all your + kindness! + +In their answer they assured her that she could make any use of the +boudoir-cap that pleased her. And then they spent much time wondering +what use she _was_ going to make of it. + +Two nights later, when they pulled up the string, they found, to their +surprise, a small parcel attached to the end. It contained a little box +in which lay, wrapped in jeweler's cotton, a tiny coral pendant in an +old-fashioned gold setting, and a silver bracelet of thin filigree-work. +The pendant was labeled, "For Marcia, with Cecily's love," and the +bracelet, "For Janet, with love from Cecily." + +The two girls gazed at the pathetic little gifts and sudden tears came +into their eyes. + +"Oh, Jan!" half sobbed Marcia; "we oughtn't to keep them! They're +probably the only trinkets she has." + +But Janet was wiser. "We must keep them," she decided. "Cecily doesn't +want all the giving to be on one side, and she has probably been longing +to do something for us. I suppose these are the only things she had that +would be suitable. Much as I hate to have her deprive herself of them, I +know she'd be terribly hurt if we sent them back. To-morrow we must +write her the best letter of thanks we can." + +So the days went by for two or three weeks. The girls caught, in all +this time, not so much as one glimpse of Cecily, but they managed, +thanks to their "line of communication," to keep constantly in touch +with her. Meantime, the summer weather waxed hotter and hotter, and the +city fairly steamed under the July sun. Their own time was taken up by +many diversions: trips to the parks, beaches, and zoo; excursions out +of town with Aunt Minerva; shopping, and quiet sewing or reading in +their pleasant living-room. Every time they went out of their home on a +pleasure-jaunt, they felt guilty, to think of the lonely little prisoner +cooped up in the dreary house next door, and both declared they would +gladly give up their places to her, had such a thing been possible. + +Then, one night, something unusual occurred. They had sent down the +usual note, and also a little work-basket of Indian-woven sweet-grass, +the souvenir of a recent trip to the seaside. To their astonishment, +when they drew up the string, both note and basket were still attached. +This was the first time such a thing had happened. + +"What _can_ be the matter?" queried Marcia. "Can it be possible that +Cecily feels she mustn't do this any more?" + +"_I_ didn't hear any footsteps down there to-night, did you?" said +Janet. + +"No, come to think of it, I didn't. She must have stayed indoors for the +first time since we began this. But what do you suppose is the reason?" + +Janet suddenly clutched her friend. "Marcia, can it be possible that +Miss Benedict has discovered what we've been doing, and won't let her +come out any more?" + +"I believe that's it!" Marcia's voice was sharp with consternation. +"Wouldn't it be dreadful, if it's so?" They sat gloomily thinking it +over. + +"Well, what are we going to do about it?" demanded Marcia. + +"Wait till to-morrow night and try again," counseled Janet. "It's just +possible Cecily had a headache or felt sick from this abominable heat +and couldn't come down. Let's see what happens to-morrow." + +The next night they tied the basket and another note to the string and +dropped it down hopefully. But they drew it up untouched, precisely the +same as before. + +"It's just one of two things," decided Marcia. "Either Cecily is ill or +Miss Benedict has found out about our little plan and forbidden Cecily +to go on with it. What are we to do? Keep on sending notes, or stop it? +Suppose Miss Benedict herself should find one sometime." + +"I don't care!" cried Janet, decisively. "If Cecily is ill, she'll get +better pretty soon and come out some night, and there'll be nothing for +her. She'd be dreadfully disappointed. I don't care if there _is_ the +possibility that Miss Benedict knows all about it. I'm going to keep +right on writing and take the chance!" + +For a whole week they followed their usual program, nightly sending down +a fresh note that they always later drew up, unclaimed. And as the days +passed they became more and more alarmed. Something had certainly +happened to Cecily. Of that they were sure, and their misgivings grew +more keen with the passing time. + +"Can it be that she isn't there any more?" conjectured Marcia, suddenly, +one day. "Perhaps Miss Benedict has sent her away!" + +This was a new and startling possibility. The more they contemplated it, +the more depressed they grew. If that were the case, then, they might +never see Cecily again, and the delightful and curious friendship would +be ended forever. + +Their usual good spirits were quite subdued, and even their hearty +appetites suffered somewhat, which worried Aunt Minerva not a little, +though she attributed it to the heat. Finally, one night, precisely one +week after the first unclaimed communication, they sent down the usual +letter, begging Cecily, if possible, to let them know what was the +matter. It seemed to both, during the interval they left it there, that +they heard light, almost stealthy footsteps in the garden below. But +neither felt certain about it. An hour later they drew up the string. +Their own note was still attached to it at the bottom, but just above it +they saw fastened a little scrap of paper, no bigger than a quarter of +an ordinary note-sheet. Both girls started with delight. + +"Quick!" cried Marcia. "Cecily has answered at last! Oh, I'm so glad!" + +Janet unfastened it, her fingers trembling with excitement, and spread +it out on the table. + +It was not in Cecily's handwriting, and contained but a few words. Both +girls read it at a glance, and then stared into each other's eyes, half +terror-stricken, half amazed. For this is what it said: + + Will you please come to the gate to-morrow morning at half-past + nine? + + A. BENEDICT. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +FOR THE SAKE OF CECILY + + +"What _can_ it mean?" muttered Janet. "What does she want of us?" + +"Why, it's perfectly plain," declared Marcia. "She has discovered that +we have been trying to correspond with Cecily, and she's going to demand +an explanation--probably warn us that we must stop it. Are you--afraid +to go, Janet?" + +"Not I! Why should I be? Miss Benedict can't do or say a thing to harm +_us_! But I _am_ anxious for poor little Cecily. I just hate to think we +may have brought trouble on her." + +"Oh, I wish now we'd never suggested such a thing!" moaned Marcia. +"We've just succeeded in making that poor little thing miserable, I +suppose." + +"Well, we can only remember that we _meant_ to make her happy, and we +_did_--for a while, at least," comforted Janet. "And what's more, I'm +not going to worry about it another bit to-night. Maybe it's something +entirely different, anyway." + +Marcia, however, could not bring herself to this cheerful view of +things. All night long she tossed beside the sleeping Janet, wondering +and wondering about what the coming interview might mean, and blaming +herself a thousand times for placing Cecily in the position of having +deceived her guardian. When morning came she was pale and heavy-eyed, +which alarmed her aunt not a little. + +"You ought not go out this morning, Marcia," remarked Miss Minerva, +anxiously. "The sun is very hot, and you look as if you had a headache." + +"Oh, no, I haven't, Aunty!" cried Marcia, eagerly, fearful of a hitch in +their plans. "I didn't sleep very well, but a walk in the fresh air will +do me good, I know." And so Miss Minerva saw them go, without further +protest. + +They both halted at the gate in the brick wall and looked into each +other's eyes. The hot morning sun beat down upon them as they stood +there, and passers-by eyed them curiously. Each was perfectly certain +that the thumping of her heart could be heard. And still they stood, +hesitating. + +"You're afraid!" accused Janet. + +"I'm--not!" protested Marcia. "And I'll prove it!" She raised her hand +suddenly--and pulled the rusty bell-handle. + +It seemed a long, long time before there was any response. But at last +they heard the click of the opening front door and the sound of +footsteps on the path. This was followed by the creaking of a key +turning in the lock of the gate. Janet gripped Marcia by the hand, and +with pounding hearts they stood together, while the gate slowly opened. +In another instant, the veiled, black-gowned figure of Miss Benedict +stood before them. She waited a moment, silent, appearing to look them +over critically. + +"Come in, if you please!" she said at last, very softly, and held the +gate open for them. They entered obediently, and she shut the gate. It +was not until they were inside the house, standing in the dim hall with +the front door closed behind them, that another word was spoken. Then +Miss Benedict faced them again, but she did not remove her bonnet or +throw back her veil. + +"I have asked you to come here this morning," she began, "because I +understand that you have become acquainted with the child Cecily +Marlowe." + +Cold chills ran up and down their spines. It had come at last! "Yes," +faltered Janet, "we--we _have_ become acquainted with her." It was not a +brilliant reply, but, for the life of her, she could think of nothing +else to say. They waited, shuddering, for what might be coming next. + +"So she has told me," went on Miss Benedict. "I also understand that +lately you have been dropping notes to her into the garden--at night." + +Janet noticed, even in the midst of her trepidation, how wonderfully +sweet and soft and harmonious the voice was. + +"Yes," replied Marcia, very low, "we have." The worst was out--now let +the blow fall! They braced themselves to receive it. + +"Cecily is ill!" said Miss Benedict, abruptly. + +They each uttered a startled little "Oh!" + +"She has not been at all well for over a week," the lovely voice +continued. "I am very much worried about her." + +Janet and Marcia glanced into each other's eyes in astonishment. Cecily +ill--and Miss Benedict actually _caring_ about it! Here were surprises +indeed! + +"Oh, I hope it's nothing serious!" exclaimed Marcia, anxiously. + +"I hope it is not--and I _think_ it is probably only the hot weather +and--and want of exercise." Miss Benedict hesitated a little over the +last. "She has been so--poorly, and has--has evidently been so anxious +to--to see you, that I thought I would--surprise her by asking you to +come and--visit her a while." It was plainly a struggle for Miss +Benedict to make this seem the natural, normal thing to do. "Will +you--come up to her room?" + +The girls were almost too stunned at the turn events had taken to reply. +"Why--we'd be glad to," faltered Marcia, at last. + +"Then, if you will follow me--" Miss Benedict led the way, through the +dark halls and up three pairs of stairs. At the door of a room on the +fourth floor she paused, knocked, and then entered. They followed, dimly +perceiving a little form in the bed, for the shutters, of course, were +closed. As they entered after Miss Benedict Cecily sprang to a sitting +posture, with a cry of mingled wonder, consternation, and joy. She, too, +glanced uncertainly at Miss Benedict. + +"I have asked your friends to come and--and see you for a while," she +explained hesitatingly to the bewildered child. "Perhaps it will make +you--feel better." Then she turned abruptly and went out of the room, +closing the door after her. + +For a moment they stared at one another. + +"Cecily!" cried Janet, at length, "what _does_ this all mean, anyway?" + +"I never dreamed of such a thing as seeing you--here!" faltered the +invalid. + +"What made her do it?" demanded Marcia. "We found a note from her tied +to our string. How did she know about it?" + +Cecily seemed to shrink back at this piece of news. "I told her, +myself," she said. "I was very sick one night--I think I had a fever. My +head was so hot and ached so. And she was--oh! so good to me! I could +hardly believe it! She bathed my head, and sat by me, and put her cool +hands on my forehead. It really seemed as if she--cared! And I felt so +ashamed to think I'd--disobeyed her that I just told her right out all +about it--how lonely I'd been, and how good you were to me, and how I'd +enjoyed hearing from you." + +"And what did she say?" breathed Marcia, in an awe-struck whisper. + +"Not a word except, 'Never mind now, little girl!' And she never said a +thing more about it. I didn't dream that she'd ever do such a thing as +_send_ for you to come and see me!" + +They marveled over it all a moment in silence. Then Marcia burst out: +"Oh, Cecily, we've been _so_ worried about you! We couldn't think why +you didn't even take the letters any more. Have you been very ill?" + +"Why, I don't know--I just feel horrid most of the time. My head aches a +lot, and every once in a while I'm awfully cold, and then I seem to be +burning up--" + +"Why, I believe you must have malaria!" interrupted Marcia. "That's what +Aunt Minerva has sometimes. You ought to go out more, and have fresh air +and--sunshine--" She stopped suddenly, remembering the conditions. "But +anyway, it isn't serious," she hurried on, after an embarrassed pause. +"And you ought to have some quinine. I wonder if Miss Benedict would let +us get it for you. I'll ask her, later." Then they hurried on to tell +her how they had continued to send down a note every night, hoping that +she would get it, and how they had feared that she might have gone away. + +And Cecily, in return, told them how she had enjoyed the notes and +gifts, but how guilty she had always felt about receiving them, +especially when she had answered them. + +"And I finished embroidering the boudoir-cap," she ended, "and--and I +gave it to Miss Benedict." + +"You _did_?" they both gasped. + +"Oh, I _hope_ you don't mind!" exclaimed Cecily, hastily; "but--but I +felt as if I wanted to _do_ something for her. She--I--I think I'm +getting to like her--more and more." + +"What did she say?" asked Marcia. "Was she pleased? I can't imagine her +wearing such a thing." + +"She looked at it and then at me--very strangely for a minute. Then she +said: 'Thank you, child. I--I never wear such things, but I'll keep +it--for your sake!'" + +"Isn't that queer!" exclaimed Janet. "You thought she cared nothing +about you!" + +"Yes," agreed Cecily; "but lately--I'm not so sure." + +In the pause that followed, the girls glanced curiously about the +darkened room, trying to realize that they were actually inside the +mysterious house at last. It was a large, square room, furnished with +heavy chairs and an old-fashioned bureau and bed. Every shutter was +fastened and the slats tightly closed. Only the dimmest daylight +filtered in. The effect was gloomy and depressing to the last degree. +They wondered how Cecily had stood it so long. + +[Illustration: "I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these +shutters," cried Janet, suddenly] + +"I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these shutters," cried +Janet, suddenly. "I should think you'd die of this gloom. It's really +bad for you, Cecily!" + +"Oh, don't!" exclaimed Cecily, in consternation. "I asked her once, when +I first came, and she didn't like it at all! She said no, she preferred +to have them shut, and I must not touch them." + +"I don't care!" went on Janet, ruthlessly. "You weren't sick then. I'm +sure she'd let you now!" And, true to her word, she turned to Miss +Benedict, who entered at this moment, still bonneted and veiled. + +"I believe Cecily has malaria, Miss Benedict," she began bravely, but +with inward trepidation. + +"Oh, do you think so? Is it serious?" The melodious voice sounded +startled and concerned. + +"I don't think it's so serious," Janet continued, "but she'd probably +get over it quicker if she had a lot of fresh air and sunshine. Couldn't +she have the shutters open? It would do her lots of good." + +Cecily and Marcia trembled at Janet's temerity and watched Miss Benedict +with bated breath. But instead of being annoyed, she only seemed +surprised and relieved. + +"Why, do you think so?" she queried. "Then--surely they may be opened. +I--I do not like the--the glare of so much daylight myself, but Cecily +may have it here, if she chooses." And following up her words, she +pushed open one of the shutters. A broad shaft of sunlight streamed in, +and, blinking from the previous gloom, Janet and Marcia threw open +the others. + +Cecily gave a delighted cry, "Oh, how lovely it is to see the sun +again!" But Miss Benedict, with an abrupt exclamation, retreated hastily +from the room. + +The girls stayed a few moments more, chatting. Then they wisely +suggested that perhaps they had better go, and not tire Cecily by too +long a call. Hearing Miss Benedict's footstep in the hall below, they +took their leave, promising to come again, as soon as it seemed best. On +the landing of the stairway they found the black-veiled figure +apparently waiting for them. + +Now, during all the strange little interview, a curious impression had +been growing upon Janet, strengthened by every word Miss Benedict had +uttered--an impression that here was no grim, forbidding jailor, such as +they had imagined the mistress of "Benedict's Folly" to be. Instead, +they had encountered a gentle, almost winning, little person, worried +about the illness of the child in her care and plainly anxious to do +everything suggested to make her more comfortable. Janet suddenly +resolved on a bold move. + +"Cecily is so lonely," she began, turning to Miss Benedict. "Don't you +think it would do her lots of good to come in and visit us once in a +while? Marcia's aunt would be so glad to see her. As soon as she is a +little better, can't she--" + +"No," interrupted Miss Benedict, her little figure suddenly stiffening +and a determined note creeping into her soft voice. "I am sorry. Cecily +cannot make visits. It is out of the question!" + +It was like striking a hidden rock in a smooth, beautiful sheet of +water. And her words admitted of no argument. Janet and Marcia followed +her meekly and in silence down to the front door. Here, in an uncertain +pause, Marcia made one further suggestion. + +"May we bring Cecily some quinine?" she ventured. "If she has malaria, +she ought to have that. We have lots of it at home." + +"It would be very kind of you," replied Miss Benedict, in an entirely +different tone. "Come to-morrow and see her again--if your aunt will +permit it. Perhaps it would be well to explain to her--" and here her +manner became confused--"that--I--er--do not make calls or--or receive +them, but this is just--just for the sake of the child." It was plain to +the girls that this admission was wrung from her only by a great effort. +She opened the front door and followed them to the gate. When she had +unlocked it, Marcia turned to her impulsively. + +"Thank you _so_ much for letting us come! We are very, very fond of +Cecily. She is such a dear, and we've been terribly worried about her. +As a relative, I'm afraid you have been still more anxious." + +The black figure started. "She is no relative of mine!" came abruptly +from behind the veil. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon, I should say--_friend_," stuttered Marcia, +embarrassed, "or--or the daughter of a friend, perhaps." + +"She is not," Miss Benedict contradicted, in a strange, flat tone, as if +repeating a lesson. "I do not know who she is--nor why she is here!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE FILIGREE BRACELET + + +Aunt Minerva took off her silver-rimmed spectacles, wiped them +excitedly, and put them on again. + +"And she said she didn't know who the child was or why she was there? +Well--I--never!" she exclaimed, adjusting them all awry. + +Marcia had decided to tell her aunt all about it. And Janet had agreed +with her that since Miss Benedict had spoken as she did, there could be +no further occasion for secrecy. So that night they gave her an entire +history of the affair, and found her a willing listener, interested and +sympathetic beyond their wildest expectations. + +"Why, Aunty, I didn't suppose you'd care much about it!" exclaimed +Marcia, in surprise. "And here you are, nearly as excited over it as +we've been." + +"Why, who would not be?" said Miss Minerva. "It's precisely like a +mystery in a book. I wasn't interested in the old place at first, +because I was too busy and it seemed as if the people living there were +such slack housekeepers. I haven't any sympathy with _that_. But what +could she mean by that last remark? Not know who the child is--or why +she's there! It's absurd! I can't believe it!" + +"Well, that's what she _said_!" asserted Marcia, again. "And if any one +ever heard of a bigger mystery, I'd like to know about it!" + +Miss Minerva took up her mending again. "Then I don't see why she keeps +the girl," she commented. + +"She keeps her, _I_ think, because she's getting sort of fond of her," +reasoned Janet. "You can easily see that. Cecily said she was very good +to her the night she was so ill. And then, too, it must have been a hard +pull for her to go so far as to send for _us_ to come in just because it +might please Cecily." + +"We must see that the child has the quinine, and it wouldn't hurt her to +have a glass or two of currant jelly. Don't forget them when you go in +to-morrow," Miss Minerva reminded them. "I'd like to have her here and +nurse her myself and feed her up a bit. And that's another strange +thing--why should that woman" (Miss Minerva invariably alluded to Miss +Benedict as "that woman") "allow you to go in and visit the child, yet +forbid her to visit you?" + +"Don't ask us why," laughed Marcia. "We're as much in the dark as any +one else. What _I_ want to know is why did Miss Benedict allow Cecily to +open her shutters to-day when she refused her a while ago. And why +doesn't she open them over all the rest of the house?" + +"Well, what _I_ want to know," added Janet, "is why Cecily's mother +should have sent her over here to the Benedicts' at all, when nobody +knew her or claimed her. Whatever made her think of such a thing?" + +"There are several explanations that might suit such a case," mused +Miss Minerva. "Mrs. Marlowe might have been a married sister, or some +more distant relative, who--" + +"Then wouldn't Miss Benedict know about it--or at least _suspect_ some +such connection?" interrupted Marcia. + +"That's true," acknowledged her aunt. "There _must_ be some other +explanation. _What_ a puzzle!" + +"What's more," added Janet, "I remember that Cecily told us this: when +she first came, Miss Benedict questioned her all about herself--where +she came from, and all that. And after Cecily had told her she never +said a word, but just walked away, shaking her head." + +Miss Minerva's mind suddenly took a new turn. "Didn't you say the child +sent you a couple of gifts--little trinkets--not long ago? I'd like to +see them." + +"We've never worn them," said Marcia. "It just seemed as if we +couldn't--she ought not to have given them away. And yet--I know just +how she felt--she wanted to do _something_! I'll get them." She brought +the box and laid it in her aunt's lap. + +Miss Minerva examined the coral pendant first. "The dear little thing!" +she murmured. "She must think a lot of you to have parted with this!" +Then she laid it down and took up the bracelet. "Gracious!" she +exclaimed immediately, letting it fall and then picking it up again. "Am +I going crazy, or are my eyes deceiving me?" She turned it over and +over. + +"What's the matter?" cried both girls at once. + +"_Matter?_" cried Miss Minerva. "Why, just this: that bracelet is +exactly like one I've had put away for years!" The girls stared at her +incredulously. "I'll get it this minute and prove it!" And she hurried +out of the room. + +While she was gone they examined the bracelet more closely than they had +yet done. It consisted of two thin rims of silver, joined by silver +filigree-work, a quarter of an inch wide. Here and there, at intervals +in the filigree, and forming part of the pattern, were several strange +characters, looking, as Marcia declared, like those on the receipt from +a Chinese laundry. The workmanship was unusually delicate and beautiful. + +In five minutes Miss Minerva was back, flushed and disheveled, from a +hunt through several bureau-drawers and boxes. + +"I couldn't find it at first," she panted. "In Northam I used to be able +to lay my hand on anything I wanted, at an instant's notice, but in this +apartment!" She heaved a resigned sigh and laid something beside the +bracelet on the table. + +It was the exact duplicate--in every last detail! Even the complicated +characters were identical! The three stared at the trinkets in an +expressive silence. Not for a moment could it be doubted that these two +bracelets were once a pair. They were so unusual that it was impossible +there could be others like them. This astonishing fact was patent to +them all. + +"Aunt Minerva, where _did_ you get yours?" breathed Marcia, at last. + +"Why, that's easily explained," answered Miss Brett. "Your father +brought it to me about ten or twelve years ago, after one of his +voyages. He said that a Chinese sailor in Hong-Kong had offered to sell +it to him for a small sum, and seeing it was a rather unique little +trinket, he bought it and brought it home to me. I never wear such +things, however. Jewelry never did appeal to me, and bracelets, +particularly, always seemed a nuisance. So I put it away intending to +give it to you some day, Marcia. And after a while I actually forgot all +about it--till to-night!" + +Janet sat up very straight. "There's just one thing I'd give my head to +know--this minute! _Where_ did Cecily get _her_ bracelet?" + +"Well, that you can easily find out--but I'm afraid you'll have to wait +till to-morrow morning!" laughed Marcia. + +"There's something very strange about this," marveled Miss Minerva, +turning the two trinkets over and over. "Actually, I can hardly tell +now which is mine and which hers, except that mine is a little more +tarnished from having been laid away. Your father said, when he gave me +mine, that he'd never seen anything like it in any of those foreign +jewelry-shops and that was why he'd been specially attracted to it." + +"Aunty," said Marcia, suddenly, "where do you suppose that sailor got +it?" + +"Your father said," replied Miss Minerva, "that he'd probably stolen it, +or somebody else had. It may have passed through dozens of hands after +it was taken from the original owner. You never can tell about such +things in the East, and it's useless to inquire." + +Again they all stared hard at the two silver trinkets, lying side by +side on the table. + +"And these two bracelets once belonged to the same person," murmured +Marcia, at last; "perhaps to some one connected with Cecily. And to +think they should have drifted halfway around the world to find +themselves side by side again in busy, practical New York!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE LIFTED VEIL + + +Next morning Marcia and Janet sallied forth to make their promised visit +to Cecily. They were armed with a box of quinine pills, two glasses of +currant jelly, a new magazine, Marcia's violin in its case, and, last, +but not least, the two filigree bracelets. And they were literally +bursting with news and excitement. + +Miss Benedict opened the gate for them as before, and to their inquiries +replied that Cecily seemed a little better. If she noticed the +suppressed excitement in their manner, she did not comment upon it, but +only led the way to Cecily's room without further words. She was +bonneted and veiled as usual. At the door she left them, saying she +would not go in. + +"Cecily, Cecily!" cried Marcia, immediately; "we have news--such strange +news for you!" Cecily was at once all eagerness and animation. + +"Oh, tell me, quickly!" she exclaimed, sitting up in the bed. "I feel so +much better. I'm going to get up to-day. But how can you have any +news--about me?" + +"Cecily," said Janet, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "have you +been thinking, all this time, that Miss Benedict knew everything about +you, and why you came here, and all that?" + +"Why, of course!" cried Cecily, opening her eyes wide. "She has never +explained it to me, and she's so--_queer_ that I never liked to ask her. +But I always thought she _knew_!" + +"Well, she doesn't--not a thing, apparently," replied Janet, and then +repeated to her all the strange conversation at the gate on the day +before. + +When she had finished, Cecily sat as if stunned--quiet and rigid and +staring out of the window. So much had it appeared to affect her that +Janet was suddenly sorry she had said a word about it. + +"Then--what does it all mean?" murmured Cecily, at last. "I'm here +where I've no right to be. Nobody knows me--or wants me. How did it all +happen? Don't I belong to _anybody_?" She looked so bewildered, so +frightened, so unhappy, that Janet and Marcia both put their arms about +her. + +"It's all right, Cecily; it's _sure_ to be all right--in the end. _We_ +would love you and want you if nobody else did. And I'm sure Miss +Benedict must care for you too. She really acts so. But the question is, +how did you ever come to be sent here at all? Didn't your mother ever +say anything to you about this place or any of the people over here?" + +"No," said Cecily, in a hushed voice. It was evident from her manner +that her grief over the loss of her mother was very keen, and she had +only once voluntarily referred to it or to anything connected with it. + +"My mother never, never mentioned the name of Benedict to me,--I never +heard of it before." + +"But couldn't Miss Benedict possibly have been some connection--some +distant connection that she never thought of or mentioned?" persisted +Marcia. + +"No--my mother's people were all English," declared Cecily, "and they +were all dead. We had no relatives living." + +"Well, your father, then?" supplemented Janet. "What about him?" + +"I never knew him to remember him. Mother said he died when I was a baby +a year or two old. He hadn't any relatives, either." + +"Well, here's something else we have to tell you, and it's the strangest +thing yet," began Janet. "Can you tell us where you got that bracelet, +Cecily,--the one you were so lovely as to send to us?" + +"Why, I always had it," answered Cecily. "Even when I was a tiny little +girl and it was much too big for me, it seemed to be mine. Mother kept +it in a box, but she let me play with it once in a while. Then when I +was older and it fitted me better, she let me wear it. I _think_ she +said my father gave it to me. I don't remember very clearly. I don't +believe I ever thought much about it, although I realized it was rather +unusual. But why do you ask?" + +"Did she ever say it had a mate--that there was a pair of them?" +questioned Marcia. + +"Oh, no! I'm sure she never said anything about another." + +"What do you think of this, then?" Marcia drew the two bracelets out of +her bag, and laid them side by side on the bed. + +"Why, how very, very _queer_!" cried Cecily, incredulously. "Where _did_ +you get the other?" + +Marcia outlined its history. "You see, there isn't a shadow of doubt +that there was once a pair of them," she ended, "and that they both +belonged to the same person. Now _who_ could that person be?" + +"It must have been some one connected with you, Cecily," added Janet. +"Everything points that way. Well, one thing is certain: if we could +find out the truth about these two bracelets, I believe we'd find out +about Cecily, too--why she is here and the whole mystery!" + +All three were very silent for a moment, considering. + +"I know one thing," ventured Marcia, at length. "Cecily, you must _not_ +give this bracelet away. It was dear and sweet of you to think of it in +the first place--and we'll keep the little coral pendant for both of us +if you like. But the bracelet is something that may mean a great deal to +you yet, and you ought to have it. Don't you agree with me, Janet?" + +"I certainly do," added Janet, heartily; "and what's more, I've thought +of something else. When Captain Brett comes home next time, he _may_ be +able to tell us something more about the other bracelet. When do you +expect him, Marcia?" + +"Not for two or three months," replied Marcia, ruefully. "I'd give +anything if it could only be sooner. It seems as if we _never_ could +wait that long!" + +"Well, let's not think of it just now," comforted Janet. "I don't +suppose we can find out anything till he _does_ come, so there's no use +fretting. How would you like to hear some music, Cecily? Marcia's +brought her violin." + +"How good of you!" cried Cecily, an almost pathetic eagerness in her +voice. "It will be wonderful to hear it near by!" + +So Marcia opened the case and took out the instrument, tuned it, tucked +it lovingly under her chin, and slipped into a rollicking Hungarian +dance by Brahms, while her little audience listened spellbound. + +"Oh, something else, please!" sighed Cecily, blissfully, when it was +ended. And Marcia, changing the theme, gave them the lullaby from +"Jocelyn," and after that Beethoven's Minuet in G. + +"Just _one_ more," begged Cecily; "that is--if you're not too tired. The +one I--I like so much!" + +"I know--the 'Träumerei,'" nodded Marcia, and once more laid her bow +across the strings. + +When the last note had died away, they were all suddenly startled by a +strange sound just outside the door--a sound that was partly a sob and +partly a half-stifled exclamation. + +Before she quite realized what she was doing, Janet, who happened to be +sitting near the door, sprang up and threw it open. + +[Illustration: "In the sudden light of the open door she stood +revealed"] + +In the hall outside stood Miss Benedict, her hands clasped tensely in +front of her. But, strangest of all, her veil was thrown back from her +face, and in the sudden light of the open door she stood revealed! In an +instant they realized that Cecily had not exaggerated the beauty of her +singularly lovely face. She plainly had been listening, captivated, to +the music within the room, and something about it must have stirred her +strangely. + +All this they noticed in the fraction of a moment, for, as she saw them, +she pulled down her veil with a hasty movement, murmuring something +about having heard music and coming to see what it was. + +But she did not pull it down quickly enough to hide one fact from the +gaze of the two girls--that her beautiful gray eyes were brimming with +tears! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +MISS BENEDICT SPEAKS + + +It was Miss Minerva who decided that Miss Benedict must be told about +the coincidence of the two bracelets. + +"Certainly, she ought to know!" she declared positively. "There must be +_some_ reason why that child has been sent to her, and she ought to be +told all the facts concerning her. Who knows but what _she_ may have +some explanation of this bracelet mystery! You tell her the very next +time you go in. And don't forget to take a jar of that quince marmalade, +besides." Aunt Minerva had determined on keeping Cecily well supplied +with toothsome dainties, which commodities, she keenly suspected, were +scarce in the big house. In fact, the girls had told her that the +marketing for that establishment, so far as they had seen, seemed to +consist mainly of milk and eggs, rice and prunes! + +So a day or two after, when they visited Cecily again, they planned to +have an interview with her guardian. Marcia was shy about broaching the +subject, so the task was left to Janet, who, being anxious to settle the +matter immediately, began it as soon as the gate was opened. + +"Miss Benedict," she said, "there is something quite strange about +Cecily that we should like to tell you. Could you spare a few moments to +hear about it?" + +"Why--er--of course!" replied the little black-veiled lady, in a rather +startled voice. "Will you--er--that is, I will come to her room in a +little while--if you will kindly close the shutters--first!" And she +directed them to proceed upstairs, without this time accompanying them. + +Cecily was overjoyed at their appearance. She was sitting by the window, +fully dressed, the sunshine streaming in on her, transforming her curls +into a radiant halo. A definite change had come over her during the +last few days, caused, no doubt, by the enjoyment of light and sunshine +and companionship. She was losing some of her former wan, wistful, +frightened aspect, and assuming more of the confiding, sunny +characteristics that were natural to her. At the moment the girls +entered she was reading a magazine brought by them on their previous +visit. + +After the first greetings and chat they reported their conversation with +Miss Benedict. + +"She's coming up soon," ended Marcia, "and we must get the shutters +closed. But what on earth _for_? Why _can't_ she be like ordinary people +and enjoy the air and sunshine like the rest of us? Do _you_ know, +Cecily?" + +"No, I can't imagine. It has all seemed very strange to me ever since I +came. But you know how odd Miss Benedict is. I can't abide asking her +any questions, and she never explains anything. The whole house is +darkened like this all the time, and since she let me open my shutters, +she's never once been in this room in the daytime. She never goes out +without that heavy veil, not even into the garden. I don't understand +it!" + +"Do you know," suggested Marcia, half under her breath, "one would +almost think she had done something wrong and was ashamed of showing her +face in the daylight. I've heard of such things. And that would explain +some other queer things about this place, too, like--" + +"Hush!" warned Janet. "I hear her coming." + +In another moment Miss Benedict had opened the door. And in the very dim +light (Marcia had been closing the shutters as they talked) they saw an +unusual sight. Miss Benedict had come to them without her bonnet and +veil! + +The change in her appearance was surprising. Her wonderful white hair +was piled on top of her head in a heavy coronet braid. Her complexion +was singularly soft and youthful, and her lovely gray eyes, even in the +dim light, easily seemed her most attractive feature. It was a curious +contrast made by the removal of the ugly bonnet and veil. In them she +appeared a little, insignificant, unattractive personality. Without +them, though short and slight of figure, she possessed a look and manner +almost regal. + +She did not refer to the omission of her usual headgear, but took a seat +and quietly asked them what they had to tell her. + +Janet undertook to explain, and began by telling how Cecily had sent the +little gift to them, via the string, and ended by explaining about Aunt +Minerva's duplicate. Miss Benedict listened to it all without comment. +When Janet had finished and held out the two bracelets for her to +examine, she merely took them and laid them in her lap, scarcely +glancing at them. They waited, breathless, for her response. + +"No," she said, "I know nothing about these bracelets. It is, of course, +very singular--a surprising coincidence that your aunt should have one +of them. But I know nothing about them, any more than I know about +Cecily herself." It was the first time she had ever referred to the +matter before Cecily, and it was evident that it was not easy for her to +do so. + +"I might as well speak plainly to you all about this, since the matter +has come up. I did not know little Cecily; I had never heard of her, nor +anything about her before she came here. I cannot imagine why she was +sent. I have no relatives whose child she could have been, nor any +friend who could have given her into my care." + +"Then why," interrupted Janet, "if you will pardon me for asking, Miss +Benedict,--why did you take her in the day she came?" + +Miss Benedict's manner instantly became a trifle confused and +embarrassed. "It is--er--a little difficult to explain, I confess," she +stammered. "The truth is--I--er--it is commonly reported that we--that +is--I have some means. I have frequently, in the past years, received +very strange letters from people utterly unknown to me,--begging +letters, letters proposing to invest my money for me,--oh! I cannot +begin to tell you all the strange things these letters propose. I +understand it is a not unusual experience--with well-to-do people. I +have even received letters proposing that I adopt the writer's children +and eventually settle my money on them!" + +Here Janet and Marcia could not repress a giggle, and Miss Benedict +smiled slightly in sympathy. + +"It _does_ sound absurd," she admitted; "but it is quite true, and has +often been most annoying. So, when the letter arrived announcing +Cecily's coming, for which there was given no particular explanation, I +thought it simply another case of a similar kind. And I resolved to +dismiss both the child and her attendant as soon as they appeared. + +"But when the day came, strangely enough, I changed my mind. It was +Cecily herself led me to do so. I felt as soon as I looked at her that, +whoever had sent her here and for whatever purpose, the child herself +was innocent of any fraud or imposture. She believed that I would +receive her, that I _knew_ it was all right. There was something +_trusting_ about her eyes, her look, her whole manner. I cannot explain +it. And that was not all--there was another reason. + +"I suddenly realized how very lonely I was, how desirable it would be to +have with me a young companion--like Cecily. I know that the life I lead +is--is different--and peculiar. It is owing to unusual circumstances +that I cannot explain to you. But I have become so accustomed to this +life that of late years I scarcely realized it _was_ so--different. But +when I saw Cecily--I felt suddenly--its loneliness." + +With the laying aside of her veil, Miss Benedict seemed also to have +laid aside some of the reticence in which she had shrouded herself. And +her three hearers, listening spellbound, realized how utterly charming +she could be--if she _allowed_ herself to be so. + +"A great desire seized me," she went on, "to take her in and keep her +with me a while. If, later, some one came to claim her, well and good. I +would let her go. Or if no one came and I found I had been +mistaken,--that she was not companionable,--I could make some other +provision for her. Meantime, I would yield to this new desire and enjoy +her presence--here. In addition to that, the lady in whose company she +had traveled was not in position to keep Cecily longer with her, and the +child would be left without protection. So I took her in. And so I have +kept her ever since, because I am daily becoming more--attached to her." + +It was a great admission for this reticent little lady, and they all +realized it. So deeply were they impressed that none of them could make +any response. Presently Miss Benedict continued: + +"After Cecily had told me her story I determined to write to the village +of Cranby, England, and find out what I could about her mother, Mrs. +Marlowe. I knew no one to whom I could address the inquiries, but sent +them on chance to the vicar of the parish church. In due time I received +a reply. It stated that Mrs. Marlowe was not a native of that town, but +came there to live about twelve years ago, with her three-year-old +daughter. Nothing was known about her personal affairs except that her +husband and all her people were dead, and that she had come there from a +distant part of England because the climate of her former home did not +agree with her little daughter. She never talked much about herself, and +lived in a very retired, quiet way. She left no property or effects of +any value. Why she should have sent her child to me was as much a +mystery as ever. About Cecily's father the vicar knew nothing. That is +all the information I have." + +Miss Benedict stopped abruptly. Cecily opened her lips to say something, +then closed them again without having spoken. Marcia fidgeted uneasily +in her chair. Miss Benedict looked down at her lap. An embarrassed +silence seemed to have fallen on them all. Only Janet, knitting her +brows over the puzzle, was unaware of it. + +"But, Miss Benedict," she began, "we all think that these bracelets may +have something to do with Cecily's affairs--might explain a good deal of +the mystery, if we could only puzzle them out. Have you noticed what +strange signs there are on them? We think they must be something in +Chinese. Let me give you a little more light and then you can see them +better." And Janet, deeply immersed in the subject and still unconscious +of her blunder, was about to go and open a shutter, when Miss Benedict +quickly raised her hand. + +"Please--er--_please_ do not!" she exclaimed hurriedly. + +"Oh! I beg your pardon--I forgot!" cried Janet, in confusion, and the +silence at once became more embarrassed than ever. So much so, in fact, +that Miss Benedict evidently felt impelled to explain her conduct. And +she made the first revelation concerning her singular mode of life. + +"I am--er--my eyes are not able to stand it. For years I have suffered +with some obscure trouble in them. I can _see_, but I cannot stand any +bright light. It hurts them beyond endurance. At home I must have the +rooms darkened in this way. And when I go out, even my heavy veil is +not sufficient. Behind it I must also wear smoked spectacles." + +She said no more, but she did not need to. A little inarticulate murmur +of sympathy rose from her listeners. And in the twilight of the room +Marcia glanced quickly and guiltily into Janet's contrite face. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +VIA WIRELESS + + +It was a week after the events of the last chapter. The girls had gone +regularly every day to visit Cecily. It was Marcia who had finally +mustered up courage to ask Miss Benedict if Cecily could not go into the +garden and enjoy there some outdoor air and sunshine. Miss Benedict had +hesitated at first, but at last she conceded that Cecily and the girls +might sit in the garden if they would go out of the house by a small +side door and remain on that side of the house. + +They found that this door was on the opposite side of the house from +Cecily's room: consequently, they had never seen it. And they soon +discovered one reason, at least, why Miss Benedict wished them to remain +exclusively on that side. It was screened both back and front by thick +bushes and trees. And at the side, above the garden wall, rose the high +blank side of a building, unrelieved by a single window. Here they were +as absolutely screened from public view as if they were within the +house. Here also was an old rustic bench and table, and they spent +several happy mornings in the secluded spot, sewing, reading, and +chatting. + +Cecily seemed fairly to open out before their eyes, like a flower-bud +expanding in warm, sunny atmosphere. Only at times now did she show any +trace of the frightened repression of their earlier acquaintance. They +seldom talked abut the mystery surrounding her, because they had +discovered that any allusion to it only made her uneasy, unhappy, and +rather silent. Moreover, further discussion of it was rather useless, as +they seemed to have reached a point in its solution beyond which +progress was hopeless. + +So they talked gaily about themselves and their own affairs, sometimes +of their former home in Northam, the pleasant New England village. +Occasionally Cecily would reciprocate by allowing them glimpses of her +life in the obscure little English town from which she had come. Only +rarely did she allude to the circumstances of her present home, and +though the girls secretly ached to know more about it, they were too +tactful to ask any questions. + +One query, whose answer they could not guess was this: who was the other +mysterious old lady, kept so closely a prisoner in her room by Miss +Benedict? And why was she so kept? Marcia and Janet were never tired of +discussing this question between themselves. That it was a relative, +they could not doubt. And they recalled one or two remarks Miss Benedict +had dropped, particularly when she had said: "We--that is--I have some +means." + +The "we" must certainly have referred to herself and the other one. But +could that "other one" be mother, sister, aunt, or cousin? And why was +there so much secrecy about her? Cecily had only said that Miss Benedict +referred to her as "the lady in there who is not very well." But why +conceal so carefully just an ordinary invalid? + +"You never can tell, though," remarked Janet, decisively, one night when +they had been discussing the matter with Aunt Minerva. "Were you ever +more stunned, Marcia, than at the reason she gave for having all the +shutters closed? I think it was the most pitiful thing I ever heard, I +could just have sat and _cried_ about it. And it was so different from +all the awful things we'd imagined. Perhaps there is just as good a +reason for this other mystery." + +"But what puzzles me," broke in Aunt Minerva, impatiently, "is why that +woman, if she's so wealthy, doesn't go to a good oculist and have some +treatment for her eyes. They can do such wonders nowadays. Why on earth +does she endure it? I never heard of anything so silly!" + +"I suppose it's for the same reason that she wouldn't have a doctor when +she hurt her ankle," said Marcia. "She evidently doesn't want a stranger +in the house, even for such important things as those." + +One day Cecily asked Marcia why she never brought in her violin since +the occasion of the first visit, and requested that she bring it with +her next day and give them a concert. + +So on the following day Marcia came armed with her violin case and also +an interesting new book from the library that she thought Cecily would +enjoy. + +"Let's read the book first," Cecily elected. So, sitting in the secluded +corner of the garden, the three spent a happy morning, reading aloud, +turn about, while the others worked at their embroidery. At last, when +all were tired, Cecily begged Marcia to play, and she laid her book +aside and took up the violin. + +"What shall I play?" she asked. "Something lively?" + +"No," said Cecily. "Play something soft and sweet and dreamy. I feel +just in that mood to-day. It's too hot for lively things." + +Marcia played the Liszt "Liebestraum," and a lovely setting of the old +Scotch song "Loch Lomond," and after that the "Melody in F." And then, +at Cecily's entreating glance, she drifted, as usual, into the +"Träumerei." + +"Do you know," said Cecily, when she had ended, "I believe I must have +heard that thing when I was a baby. It's the only reason I can think of +that it seems so--so familiar. And yet--unless I'd heard it a great, +great many times then, I don't think it would have made such an +impression on me. And where could I have heard it? Play it again, +Marcia, please." + +Marcia obligingly began, but she had gone no farther than the first few +measures when the door opened and Miss Benedict appeared. She seemed +very much agitated, and her bonnet and veil, donned in an evident hurry, +were slightly awry. + +"I beg you," she began, turning to Marcia, "not to play any more. +I--er--it is--is not because it is not beautiful, but it is--is slightly +disturbing to--some one inside." + +"Why, of course I won't, Miss Benedict," said Marcia, dropping her bow. +"I wouldn't have done such a thing if I'd dreamed it would disturb any +one." + +"It isn't--it isn't that _I_ don't love it," stammered Miss Benedict, +"for I do. But it seems to be very upsetting to--" She hesitated, just +a fraction of a moment, and then seemed to take a sudden resolution. + +"--to my sister!" she ended flutteringly, as though the simple admission +carried something damaging with it. It required strong self-control for +the three girls not to exchange glances. + +"Oh, I hope I haven't done her any harm!" cried Marcia, contritely. + +"No--she--it has just made her a little nervous. She will be all right +soon, I trust. But I noticed that it had the same effect--before," went +on Miss Benedict. "I fear I shall have to ask you not--not to play again +in her hearing. And I am very sorry, both for Cecily--and myself." And +she retreated into the house again, closing the door softly. + +On the way back to luncheon that noon the girls excitedly discussed the +newest turn of affairs and the newest revelation made by their strange +neighbor. And so absorbed were they in this fresh interest and so +anxious to impart it to Aunt Minerva that they scarcely noticed she was +laboring under a suppressed excitement quite as great as their own. +Indeed, she paid but scant attention to their recital; and when they had +finished, her only comment was: + +"Very odd--very odd indeed. But you never can guess about the news _I_ +have!" + +"No, no! Of course I can't guess. Tell us--quick!" cried Marcia, +impatiently. "It's something wonderful, I know!" + +Miss Minerva made no reply, but suddenly laid a wireless telegram before +them. Marcia snatched it up and read aloud: + + "_Change of sailing-plans. Will be home in two days._ + + "EDWIN BRETT." + +"Hurrah! hurrah!" she cried. "Father's coming! A whole two months before +we expected him! _Now_ we'll hear something about the bracelet--and who +knows what will happen after that!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE WRITING ON THE BRACELETS + + +In the joy of seeing her father after months of absence Marcia almost +forgot the mystery of Benedict's Folly. Almost--but not quite! + +Captain Brett had been at home twenty-four hours, and had had time to +give an account of all the intervening weeks, before the subject was +broached. Then the next morning, with a great air of mystery, the two +girls and Aunt Minerva made him sit down and listen to the entire story. +At its conclusion they produced the two filigree bracelets for his +inspection. + +"H'm!" he exclaimed, and, whistling softly under his breath, examined +them with minute care. And then, being a man of few words, he only +remarked: "So you think these were once a pair?" + +"Why, of course!" cried Marcia. "Don't you?" + +"It looks remarkably like it," he conceded. + +"Do tell us how you happened to get yours!" she begged. + +"There's nothing much to tell," replied Captain Brett. "Happened to be +in Hong-Kong one day, and a ragged-looking Chinese sailor thrust this +under my nose and whined that he'd let me have it for two Mexican +dollars. They're always trying to get rid of things like this when they +want some spare cash. One never knows where they pick them up. I didn't +want the trinket particularly, but I saw that it was a unique little +piece and worth probably much more. So I bought it, tucked it away in my +trunk, and forgot it till I arrived home, when I gave it to you, +Minerva. That's all I know about it." + +"How long ago was that?" asked Janet. + +"Must have been at least twelve years ago. I'm not sure of the exact +year." + +"But what do these things mean?" questioned Miss Minerva, pointing to +the strange characters in the silver-work. + +"They're Chinese characters, certainly, but I don't know what they mean. +You see them on lots of their jewelry and gimcracks--generally mean +'good luck,' or 'happiness,' or some such motto. Can't say whether these +mean anything of that kind or not." + +"But tell me, Father, don't you honestly believe that if we could get +these translated--find out what they mean--it might give us _some_ clue +to the puzzle?" Marcia appealed to him. + +"It might--or it might not," he answered skeptically. "So many of these +characters might be meaningless, as far as any personal application was +concerned." + +"Well, anyway, _could_ we get them translated, just for our own +satisfaction?" demanded Marcia. + +"Nothing simpler!" smiled Captain Brett. "My boatswain is a +Chinese--very learned man--reads his Confucius in off hours! He'd be +sure to help you with it." + +"Oh, goody! And when can we have it done?" cried Marcia, aglow with +anticipation. + +"Well, you're all coming down to visit the ship to-morrow. Bring the +bracelets along, and I'll see that Lee Ching is on hand to give you his +assistance. But--I warn you--_don't_ count too much on what you may +discover from it! I don't want you to have a bad disappointment." + +In spite of which warning, notwithstanding, the girls slept little that +night, so excited were they over the prospect, and, when they did sleep, +dreamed impossible dreams--mainly of quite unintelligible translations +of cryptic Chinese characters. + +The visit to Captain Brett's ship, _The Empress of Oran_, would have +been an event, apart from any other interest involved in the expedition. +Marcia and Janet had never in their lives been on board of an ocean +steamer. Even the approach to it was fascinating,--the long, covered +wharves with their strange, spicy odors, the bustle and activity of +loading and unloading, the narrow gangways, the dark waist of the +vessel, and the immaculate white paint of the decks. + +They examined every inch of the huge steamer, from the stoking-room to +the donkey-engines on the forecastle deck, and spent half an hour in the +cozy, tiny cabin that was the captain's own, marveling at the +compactness and handiness of every detail. + +When they all went up to the after-deck for luncheon, which was served +under an awning, Marcia and Janet could scarcely eat for watching the +deft, silent, sphinxlike Chinese cook who waited on them. They tasted +strange dishes that day, some of which, like curry and rice, were +scarcely acceptable to their unaccustomed palates. + +"Now," said the captain, in the middle of the meal, "if we were only out +on the China Sea or bowling along over the Pacific, this would be just +right. You'd have more of an appetite in that salt air than you do +hemmed in by these noisy docks!" + +But it was not the docks that had stolen away the appetites of Marcia +and Janet. They were boiling with impatience to see the boatswain, that +student of Confucius, who could, perhaps, throw some new light on their +mystery. Ambrosia and nectar for luncheon would scarcely have appealed +to them under the circumstances! + +At last, however, the meal was ended with the curious little Chinese +nuts whose meat is almost like a raisin. Then, when the table was +cleared and the captain had lit his cigar, he spoke the word that caused +their hearts to jump and their eyes to brighten: + +"Now I suppose you want to see Lee Ching!" He beckoned to a sailor and +sent him to find the boatswain. + +Lee Ching arrived with promptitude, saluted his captain, and stood +gravely at attention. He was not a young man, and he had a decidedly +Oriental, mask-like face. It seemed strange that he should be dressed in +the conventional boatswain's uniform, with peaked cap and the whistle of +his office. One could imagine him better in some brilliant-hued, +wide-sleeved Chinese garment, with a long pig-tail down his back. + +"Lee Ching," said the captain, "these young ladies are very much +interested in these two bracelets that have come into their possession. +The characters on them, you see, are in your language. We wonder if you +will be so kind as to translate them for us?" + +Lee Ching took the trinkets and examined them minutely. Presently he +asked: + +"Will ladies have what say by word of mouth?" The captain was about to +answer yes, and then changed his mind: + +"No. It may be rather important, and we want to remember it accurately. +We would be obliged if you would write it out." + +Lee Ching nodded gravely. "Will captain permit I retire to cabin?" he +requested, and on being dismissed, he retreated with a formal bow. + +"But _can_ he write English?" cried Marcia, when he had disappeared. + +"Of course he can, better than he can speak it!" laughed the captain. +"English is child's play compared to that brain-paralyzing language of +his! I must say, though, that Lee Ching is rather unusual--as Chinese +sailors go. He's studied in the University of Pekin, reads and writes +English well, and never speaks Pidgin-English. Why he's spending his +life as boatswain of a trading-steamer I don't know. He's fitted for far +different things. But I have an idea it's on account of his health that +he follows the sea." + +The time before Lee Ching's reappearance seemed to the girls +interminable, though, in all probability, it was not more than fifteen +minutes. + +At last, however, he returned, laid the bracelets and a slip of paper in +the captain's hand, and was about to retire. + +"One moment!" said Captain Brett. "Is the writing on the two bracelets +the same?" + +[Illustration: "Words on two bracelets are Identical," replied Lee +Ching, precisely] + +"Words on two bracelets are identical," replied Lee Ching, precisely. + +"That is all, then, and thank you!" And the captain dismissed him. + +"Oh, _read_ it," cried Marcia, "or I shall die of impatience!" and +she hung over his shoulder while he read aloud Lee Ching's queer, +angular handwriting. + +[Illustration: Writing: "From the maker of melodies to the flower-maiden +on this day of their wedding. Amoy, Sept. 25, 1889."] + +When he had finished, a blank look crept over the expectant faces of the +two girls. + +"Is _that_ all?" cried Janet. And Marcia exclaimed, "Why, how +disappointing! It doesn't tell us a single thing!" + +"Wait a minute," said the captain, tugging thoughtfully at his short +mustache, while he studied the paper, "I'm not so sure of that!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +PUZZLING IT OUT + + +"To begin with," Captain Brett went on after a long and (to Janet and +Marcia) very trying pause, "we've something to hold on to in just the +date--Sept 25, 1889--and Amoy." + +"What's Amoy, anyway?" demanded Marcia. + +"It's a large seaport in the province of Fu-kien, China, and I've +stopped there many a time myself. Then there's the date of this wedding. +Somebody might possibly remember it. There's just the faintest chance." + +"But there aren't any names given," argued Marcia. "And besides, there +must be hundreds of Chinese weddings going on all the time. I don't +believe you could find any one who could remember just this particular +one!" + +"There are one or two things about this you don't understand, Marcia. +First place, I'm almost certain this isn't any Chinese wedding referred +to here. The Chinese don't do things that way. I know a little about +their customs. It's English or American. You can bank on _that_! + +"Another thing--about the names. I'm pretty sure that this contains both +names--at least the ones the parties went by in China. You see, the +Chinese have no equivalents in their language for such names as Jones or +Robinson or Brett, for instance. What they do is to take some +characteristic of a person, and give him a name signifying that +characteristic. I strongly suspect that whatever words in Chinese stand +for 'maker of melodies' and 'flower-maiden' are the names the man and +woman were known by there." + +"Then," interrupted Janet, who had been doing some rapid thinking, "the +man must have been some kind of a musician, and the woman may have loved +flowers, or looked like a flower, or something of that sort." + +"I think it extremely likely," agreed the captain. + +"_Maker of melodies--musician!_" cried Marcia, suddenly hopping up from +her deck-chair in excitement. "Does that make you think of anything?" + +The captain and Janet both looked rather mystified and shook their +heads. + +"Why, _Cecily_, of course!" exclaimed Marcia. "Don't you remember how +she adores music--and always seems to be remembering something about +that 'Träumerei'? I'll warrant--just anything--that these people who got +married were some relation to her! And besides, didn't she have one of +the bracelets?" + +"It looks as if you _had_ run down a clue," admitted Captain Brett. "But +I'm sorry to say it doesn't help us much in discovering who these +contracting parties were. One point, however, I think it seems to +settle--the question whether the bracelet came into the possession of +your little friend in some such manner as I got the other, or whether it +was hers by right as a family trinket. I believe the latter--almost +beyond question. But now comes the difficulty. How are we going to +unearth anybody who has any remembrance of--" + +Marcia suddenly inspired with an idea, interrupted: "Why not ask Lee +Ching? He's Chinese. Who knows but what he came from just that region?" + +"Nothing like trying," said the captain. "I don't know what province he +hails from, but it won't hurt to ask." And he sent a sailor to summon +Lee Ching once more. When he appeared the captain put his first +question: + +"Lee Ching, what province did you come from?" + +"Fu-kien," came the answer, promptly, and the girls' hopes were raised +sky-high. + +"Did you ever live in Amoy?" + +"No, never lived there--always in hills back beyond." + +"Well, do you, by any chance, happen to know anything about the parties +spoken of in that bracelet translation?" + +"No. Was at sea at date mentioned. Young man then--not very well on dry +land. Must live on ship always--or not live. Never was acquainted with +parties mentioned." + +"Thank you. That is all, Lee Ching." + +The bright hopes of the girls were considerably dampened, but Marcia was +not to be downed. + +"Anyway," she argued, "you've other Chinese sailors on board. Why +couldn't we question them all? We might find _some_ one who knows." + +The captain was rather dubious about it. "Yes, the cook and four sailors +are Chinese. You can question them if you like, but I'm afraid it won't +be much satisfaction. They're an appallingly ignorant lot! But I'll have +them summoned." + +In a few moments the five were lined up, and, true to the captain's +estimate, a hopeless-looking lot they were. After much confused +questioning in Pidgin-English it developed that the cook and two sailors +were from the province of Shansi, a third from Kiang-su, and the two +others from nowhere in particular that they could seem to remember. +None of them knew anything about Amoy beyond the squalid shops about the +wharves. + +The captain dismissed them all with a disgusted wave of his hand and +turned to the girls. + +"You see how worse than useless it is to try and find out anything from +such sources! I knew it would be so, but I didn't want to discourage +you. Now you just leave me to myself for half an hour to smoke in peace +and do a little thinking. Go and look at them unloading, or roam around +and amuse yourselves in any way you like. Perhaps, if I rack my brains +hard, something will occur to me." + +They left him pacing up and down on the deck, puffing at his cigar, +while they went to explore the great ship all over again. But the +occupation, though fascinating, failed to keep their thoughts from the +latest phase of the queer mystery that surrounded Cecily Marlowe. + +"Do you know," said Marcia, as they stood looking down into the well of +the vast engine-room, "it seems simply impossible to me to connect +lovely, dainty, English Cecily with anything so oriental as China. I +can't understand it. I can't imagine any connection. Can you?" + +"No, I can't," admitted Janet. "And, more than that, where does Miss +Benedict come in on this Chinese proposition? Nothing could be less +connected with it than she! I believe she'd have a fit if she ever saw +that awful-looking crowd of Chinese sailors your father had there a +while ago. Did you ever see such a rascally looking lot? And poor little +Cecily would be horrified!" + +"I liked Lee Ching, though. He's so grave and serious and dignified. And +isn't his English fascinating? I just love to hear him talk. But oh, I +wish Father hadn't sent us away for half an hour! I can hardly wait for +the time to pass! Let's go and look at those men on the dock unloading. +Why do they make such a racket? You'd think there was a fire or +something!" + +So they whiled away the time, and at last, promptly on the minute, raced +back to Captain Brett. + +"Well?" demanded Marcia, breathless. "What now?" + +"Just had a happy thought!" The captain threw the stump of his finished +cigar over the rail. "I've been trying to think whom I could remember +meeting in China during the past years--some responsible person who +might know these people or be able to track them down. Suddenly recalled +old Major Goodrich. He was an English military attaché stationed at +Hong-Kong for a while, and I got to know him rather well. He was retired +some years ago, and the last I heard of him he was living in this +country, somewhere in Pennsylvania, with his only daughter, who happened +to have married an American. If anybody were likely to know anything +about this business it would be he, for he knew everybody and everything +worth knowing about in Amoy at the time. I'll look up his address and +write to him to-night. Now I hope that satisfies you both!" + +"Father, you're a trump!" cried Marcia, blissfully. "I _knew_ you'd get +right to the bottom of this mystery at once." + +"Hold on! Don't count your chickens before they're hatched!" warned the +captain. "This is only a possibility--not a _probability_. The major may +know nothing whatever about it. But look here! it's high time we were +heading for home. We don't want to be late to dinner." + +They reached the apartment, bursting with news to tell Aunt Minerva, but +were met at the door by that lady, flushed, flustered, and very much +excited. + +"Such a state of affairs!" she cried. "An hour ago I received a telegram +from Cousin Drusilla in Northam saying she was very ill indeed and +wouldn't I come up at once, as she was virtually all alone. Of course +I've got to go. I can't leave her there sick without a soul to look +after her. But what on earth are you all going to do?" + +"Oh, go right along, Minerva! The girls and I will get on famously. They +can try their hand at housekeeping, and you've a good maid in the +kitchen to help. Don't you worry a minute!" + +"Yes, but--" began Aunt Minerva. + +"You've got just fifteen minutes to catch the Boston express," said the +captain, decisively, looking at his watch. "Give me that suitcase and +come right along." + +Aunt Minerva, who had really been all packed and ready for the past +twenty-nine minutes, meekly obeyed. + +"I won't be gone more than a few days," she remarked, as she kissed the +girls good-by. "I'll get some one to take my place with Drusilla just as +soon as I can. Don't let Eliza boil the corn too long, and tell her--" +The sentence was never finished, for the captain at that point gently +but firmly led her into the hall and closed the door. + +And, though the girls suspected it not, this sudden departure of Aunt +Minerva had more bearing on the mystery they were trying to solve than +any of them dreamed! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +ONE MYSTERY EXPLAINED + + +Meantime, Cecily Marlowe, immured in the lonely house, had been having +an experience all her own. And when the girls came to see her, the day +after the visit to the ship, she too was bursting with news. But she +quietly waited till they had told their own tale, and was as puzzled as +they about the strange translation of the characters on the bracelet. Of +anything pertaining to China or the Chinese she had not the remotest +notion, and could not understand how it could have any connection with +her affairs. + +"Now you must hear _my_ story," she began, when they had discussed the +newest development till there was nothing left to discuss. "It's about +Miss Benedict. She has--but just wait, and I'll begin at the beginning. +It was two nights ago, and she had one of those headaches. She has +such very bad ones, you know. She says they are from her poor eye-sight, +and she suffers terribly. + +"Well, she had a worse one than usual, and so she was obliged to call me +into her room and ask me to fetch things for her. I sat by her and +bathed her head and fanned her, and at last she fell asleep. Even then I +didn't go away, but sat there fanning and fanning her for a long time, +till finally, after a couple of hours, she woke up. + +"She was very much better then, and presently she began to talk to me +quite differently from what she ever had before. First she asked me if I +were contented and happy here. I said I tried to be, but I was very +lonely sometimes. She didn't say much to that, but suddenly she spoke +again: + +[Illustration: "Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life +I lead!"] + +"'Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life I lead, don't +you?' I said, yes, I couldn't help wondering about it. Then she turned +away her head and whispered: + +"'Oh, if you only _knew_, you would not wonder! I have been very +unhappy. My life has been very unhappy!' All I could think of to answer +her was that I was so sorry, and she need not tell me anything she +didn't wish to. I would never ask about it. And she raised herself up in +bed, and said: + +"'That's just it, dear child. I have always supposed that young folks +were one and all curious, inquisitive, and thoughtless. That is one +reason I was so--so strict with you--in the beginning. But you and those +two nice girls next door have been a revelation to me.' + +"Wasn't that lovely of her?" exclaimed Cecily, interrupting herself. + +"Just darling!" cried Marcia. "But do go on, Cecily. We're crazy to hear +what came next!" + +"Well, next she said: 'People think I live a very singular life, I know. +They think I'm eccentric--queer--crazy, even! Oh, _I_ know it! But there +are few alive to-day--and none in this neighborhood--who even guess at +the real reason, who--remember!' And then she put her hand to her head +as if it was aching badly, and dropped back on the pillow. She was very +quiet for a while, but at last she looked up again and said: 'Little +Cecily, would you care to have a home with me always? Would you be +willing to put up with my queerness and peculiarities, and some of the +strange conditions here?' And I answered, indeed, yes; if I could go out +once in a while and visit you girls occasionally, I should very much +like to stay. And she said: + +"'Of course you shall, dear. You have been dreadfully shut in here, but +that was before I knew you so well. I was not sure I _wanted_ to keep +you before, but now I know that I do. I only ask you to be as +considerate of me as you can. Some day, I feel certain, I shall lose my +sight. I know that it is coming. When it does come, I shall have to +depend very, very much on you. I and one other. You will not fail me +then, will you, Cecily?' + +"Girls, I could have cried then and there--I felt so _sorry_ for her. +And I told her she could _always_ depend on me, no matter what happened. +I had no other home and no one else to care for me except you girls. +And after that she told me the story about herself--at least, some of +it. I can't tell it in her words, so I'll use my own. But this is it: + +"A great many years ago, when this house was new, she lived here with +her father and an older sister and a younger brother. They were all very +happy together, and the brother was the pride and joy and hope of the +whole family. But one time he had a violent disagreement with his father +(she didn't tell me what it was about), and she and her sister took +sides with her father against the brother. After that they had the same +disagreement a great many times, and at last one so bad that the young +man declared he wouldn't endure it any longer, and threatened to leave +home. + +"They didn't believe he was really serious about it, but the next +morning his room was vacant, and a note pinned to his pillow said he had +gone away never to return. They felt awfully about it, of course, but +that wasn't the worst. About two weeks later they received word that he +had taken passage on a steamer for Europe, and after only a day or so +out he was discovered to be missing, so he must have fallen overboard, +or been washed over and drowned. Wasn't that frightful?" + +Janet and Marcia looked horrified. "What did she do then?" they +whispered. + +"That's the most dreadful part," went on Cecily. "The shock was so great +that the father died a week afterward--the doctors said virtually of a +broken heart. So there were two gone, and within a month. The two that +were left, Miss Benedict and her sister, shut themselves up and went +into mourning and saw almost no one. For a while they were paralyzed +with grief. And then, little by little, very gradually, they began to +realize that people were talking about them--saying dreadful things. One +of the few friends they _did_ see let drop little hints of the gossip +that was going on outside. People were saying that they were to blame +for it all, and that they probably weren't so sorry as they pretended to +be, for now they could enjoy all the money themselves. Can you imagine +anything so horrid?" + +"Oh, but that's nonsense!" interrupted Janet impatiently. "How could any +one say it was their fault?" + +"Well, you know how people talk," replied Cecily. "They meant that by +nagging and quarreling they had driven the brother away on purpose, and +then made it so unpleasant for the father that he couldn't stand it any +longer either. It wasn't said in so many words, but just little hints +and allusions and shrugging shoulders and all that sort of thing. But +the meaning was there underneath it all, as plain as anything. + +"Their grief and the horrid talk about them made them feel so very badly +that they determined to live in such a way that no one could accuse them +of enjoying an ill-gotten fortune. So they shut up the house,--at least +a large part of it,--and dismissed all their servants, and did most of +the work themselves. After a while the few friends they had began to +drop away, one by one, till no one came to see them any more. + +"And then one day, two or three years later, the older sister had a +paralytic stroke and lost her memory. She's been shut up in that room +ever since, and Miss Benedict takes care of her. She can sit up in a +chair and knit, and she likes to have a chess-board on her lap, and move +the pieces around, because she once loved to play the game with her +younger brother. But she can't remember anything--not even who she is +herself, and nothing about what has happened. Miss Benedict feels +terribly about her, especially about her not remembering anything, and +she says that is why she didn't tell me about her at first. It seemed so +terrible. + +"She says all the friends and relatives they had are dead and gone now, +so no one knows the real reason for their queer life. And as the years +have passed she has grown more and more into the habit of living this +way till it seemed quite natural to her--at least it did till I came; +and now she is beginning to realize again that it _is_ queer. And she +was so afraid of gossip and talk that when you first wanted to be +friends with me she would not allow it, for fear of starting more +unpleasant inquiries into her life." + +"But what about her poor eyes?" asked Janet. + +"Oh, yes! About ten years ago she began to have those terrible pains in +her eyes, and then she had to darken all the house and wear the veil and +dark glasses outdoors. She went to a doctor about them, but was told +that the case was hopeless unless she had some complicated operation and +spent months in a dark room. This she felt she couldn't do on account of +her sister, whom she _would_ not leave to a stranger's care. So she has +just suffered ever since. + +"That's all, girls, except that she told me her sister's name is +Cornelia and that hers is Alixe. I'm to call her Miss Alixe after this. +It makes me seem a little nearer to her." + +"What a pretty name--Alixe!" commented Marcia. "It just seems to suit +her, somehow. But isn't that the saddest story? It just goes to show how +unhappy we can make people by talking about them and their affairs." + +"And oh! there's one thing more. Miss Benedict--I mean Miss Alixe--gave +me permission to tell you all this, but she only asks that you will not +repeat it except to your father and aunt. She says she knows you can be +depended on to do this." + +That day, before Janet and Marcia left, they encountered Miss Benedict +in the hall. And, by the way she pressed their hands in saying good-by +they felt that she knew Cecily had told them her story, though she made +no reference to it. + +"Cecily may run in and visit you a while to-morrow. I think the change +will do her good," she remarked at parting. And that was the only hint +she gave of a change in the affairs of "Benedict's Folly." + +When Janet and Marcia were at last outside the gate they gazed up at the +forbidding brick wall and drew a long breath of wonder. + +"So _that_ is the story!" breathed Marcia. "What an awful thing--that +two people's lives should be spoiled just by unkind gossip!" + +But Janet was thinking of something else. "I wonder why Miss Benedict +didn't tell what the family had the disagreement about!" she queried. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +MAJOR GOODRICH ASSISTS + + +During the week following Aunt Minerva's departure, the two girls had a +busy life, taking charge of the unaccustomed tasks of housekeeping. + +But with all their absorbing occupations, the three were waiting on +tiptoe of expectation for a reply from Major Goodrich. And even Captain +Brett could scarcely conceal his impatience as the days went by and no +answer came. + +At last one morning the mail-box contained a letter postmarked from +Pennsylvania, and Marcia carried it upstairs two steps at a time. + +It was from the major. He wrote: + + Is there any way you can think of to furnish me with an idea of + what the Chinese for that expression, "maker of melodies," + _sounds_ like? The only way that occurs to me is to see whether, + by any faint chance, Lee Ching could write it in that Romanized + Colloquial, used by the missionaries. That might give me an idea. + It's a hundred chances to one, he doesn't know it. If so, just + spell it out for me yourself in English--the nearest you can get + to it. + + The reason I want to know it is this: there was a young fellow in + Hong-Kong at the British military station, a military aide of + promise, who had a magnificent singing voice. Every one went wild + over him there. He was the life of the garrison and in social + circles as well. Many an evening we spent listening to one of his + impromptu recitals. But what makes me suspect that he may be the + one we're after is that he foolishly went and married the daughter + of a Chinese mandarin from one of the Hong-Kong yamêns. He had + been the means of rendering the father some very important + service, and met the daughter quite by accident. The whole affair + was a rather remarkable story, but I haven't time to detail it all + to you now. + + I saw the girl just once--afterward. She was a fascinating little + creature, with the golden butterfly pins in her black hair, and + her rich silk robe hung with jewels, and her tiny bound feet. But + the young fellow's family back in England was furious about it. + Eventually, he cut loose from them entirely. Then he and his wife + drifted away from the Hong-Kong region up to Amoy, and finally + dropped out of sight. I imagine he adopted the Chinese customs and + habits and got to live at last very much like a native. I've never + heard of him since, but I've a notion he could be hunted up if + he's still alive. His name was Carringford--Jack Carringford, we + used to call him. + + The point, however, is that the Chinese called him by a name of + their own, signifying "eminent singer," or something of that + sort--very much the same kind of expression as that used on the + bracelet. And after a while we all got to calling him by it--or + some abbreviation of it--pretty regularly. I can't recall just + what it was now, for I haven't thought of it in years. But I + believe I'd recognize it if I saw it written out in Colloquial or + any other English version! Get me that, and I'll soon put you on + the right track! + + Mightn't the little girl possibly be the daughter of Carringford? + +"No, she _mightn't_!" interrupted Marcia, indignantly, at this point. +"Does Cecily Marlowe look like a Chinese mandarin's daughter's +daughter?" And certainly, with her golden curls and big blue eyes and +the English roses in her cheeks, they had to admit that she did not! + +"And besides that," added Janet, "her name isn't _Carringford_!" + +"That doesn't always signify," remarked the captain. "It looks to me +like a rather clear case if we find that the Chinese name agrees with +the major's recollection of it. I'd go down to the ship to-day, but Lee +Ching is on shore leave, and won't be back till to-morrow. I'll see him +then, and find out whether he knows anything about this Romanized +Colloquial. I rather doubt it myself. It's not much used outside of the +missions, I understand." + +"What _is_ 'Romanized Colloquial,' anyway?" demanded Marcia. "It sounds +very mysterious!" + +"No, it isn't a bit mysterious," answered Captain Brett. "In order to +understand about it, however, you must know this fact about the Chinese +language. The _written_ character is the same--_means_ the same--all +over the kingdom. But it isn't _pronounced_ the same in any of the +different provinces. In fact, the spoken dialects are like entirely +different languages. It seems that the dialect of the Fu-kien province +has been reduced to a written form by the missionaries and called +Romanized Colloquial. It has been in use for a good many years, but it +isn't especially recognized by official or diplomatic circles. But a +good many of the Chinese boys who attend the mission-schools learn it +there. It's just possible that Lee Ching may have done so, as he came +from that region. We can only wait and see. If he doesn't know it, he +_may_ be able to write out the Chinese equivalent in some form of +English script." + +The next day the captain went down to the _Empress of Oran_ and returned +with a beaming face and a sheet of paper written on by Lee Ching. + +"He knew it all right!" he announced. "Learned it as a boy in the +mission-school at _Chiang-chiu_. Here's what he wrote." And he held the +sheet of paper for the girls to see. "He's put the Chinese characters at +one side. They have to be read from top to bottom, you know. Next to +them is the Romanized Colloquial, and alongside of that the English +translation. Quite a pretty piece of work that!" + +[Illustration] + +"Gracious!" cried Marcia, frowning over the queer jargon. "I can't make +a thing out of it--or at least I couldn't if he hadn't put the English +right alongside of the others. Oh, this must be the name!--'chok-gàk ê +lâng'-'maker of melodies.' Did you _ever_ hear of such heathenish +sounds? Well, now we'll see what Major Goodrich has to say to that. +Father, will you send it right off to him?" + +"At once!" announced the captain. "I'm just about as anxious as you +folks, now, to get this mystery explained." + +But the singular thing was that somehow the girls could not bring +themselves to tell Cecily much about these latest developments. They +thought it would make her feel strange and anxious to realize that there +was a possibility of her being in any way related to a Chinese +mandarin's daughter. + +"And besides," remarked Janet, suddenly, when they were discussing it, +"that's perfectly impossible, anyway, because her mother was English, +and Cecily has lived with her all these years. So this talk about +mandarin's daughters and things is perfectly ridiculous!" + +"That's so!" echoed Marcia, in relief. "I didn't think of it at first. +But, anyway, let's not tell Cecily about it till we know more. I do wish +Aunt Minerva were here! I haven't written her about all this because +there's so much to explain. I'd rather wait and tell her when she gets +back. She said she was only going to be gone a little while, and here +it's nearly two weeks!" + +In three days an answer arrived from the major, and, as luck would have +it, Cecily herself brought the letter upstairs with her as she came in. + +"The postman was just going to drop it in your box," she explained, "and +I asked him to let me take it to you, and save you the trouble of coming +down for it." And she held it out to the captain. + +"Aha!" he cried, as he caught sight of the writing. "_Now_ we'll hear +some news! Why--what's the matter?" He had just glimpsed Marcia and +Janet frantically signaling to him behind Cecily's back. "Don't you +want me to open it?" + +"Oh, not now," explained Marcia, as nonchalantly as she could. "I want +Cecily to come out to the kitchen and help us make some fudge. Later +will do." And she dragged the wondering Cecily down the hall, while the +captain stared after them muttering, "Well! of all the--" + +Cecily stayed rather late that afternoon. And for the first time in all +their acquaintance, the girls were not sorry to have her go, so wild +with anxiety were they to hear the major's letter. No sooner had the +door closed upon her than they rushed back to the captain. + +"What does he say?" they clamored. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE MAJOR HAS A FURTHER INSPIRATION + + +The captain, who was puffing at his pipe, appeared serious. "I don't +like the looks of this thing at all," he muttered, reaching in his +pocket for the letter. + +"But what did he say? Tell us quick!" cried Marcia. "We've been nearly +crazy there in the kitchen waiting to have Cecily go so we could hear +what he says!" + +"Well, I'm glad she did go first," acknowledged the captain, "for +somehow I wouldn't care to have her hear just yet what the major has to +say. He thinks-- But I'll read his letter, and you can understand what I +mean. Here it is: + + "About the Chinese name first. The one you sent does certainly + have a familiar sound to me, especially the last two syllables. I + distinctly remember that the name Jack Carringford was called by + ended in _e lang_, or something that sounded amazingly like it. I + wouldn't bank on that entirely, however, for the Chinese language + is the most confusing and idiotic jargon ever invented by the mind + of man, and there might be a dozen other words ending the same and + meaning something entirely different. + + "Here's a fact more to the point, though. Since writing to you + last I've been busy communicating with several old chums of the + China days. What I've been trying to find out is, does any one + know what has become of Carringford? By the third year after his + unfortunate marriage he had pretty well dropped out of sight. + Still, I thought I knew of one or two who might have kept some + track of him even after that. One of them, Danforth Pettingill, an + old chum of Jack's, is now living in New York, and I thought he'd + probably know as much as any one. So I wrote him at the very + start, and yesterday received this answer. It seems that + Carringford and his wife lived with her father for some time--till + about two years after their marriage, when a little daughter was + born. Then the old mandarin, who was fearfully annoyed because the + baby was not a boy (girls being of no earthly account in China, as + you know!), made it so unpleasant for the couple that they finally + left his establishment. It was then that they began their roaming + existence, terribly hampered by the baby, of course, and never + remaining long in any city. + + "At last, the wife contracted the plague and died very suddenly, + and Carringford was left alone with the baby on his hands. It was + at this time that he dropped completely out of sight, and + Pettingill never heard from him again. He thinks, however, from + very substantial rumor, that Carringford went back to England, + taking the child with him. He didn't go to his own folks, though, + that's certain; for Pettingill has heard from them occasionally, + and they never mention him. There was another rumor afloat about + him for a time, that he had taken to earning his living by singing + at cheap concerts under an assumed name. All of which might be + entirely likely. But what became of the child, Pettingill never + knew--nor any one else, I'm afraid. Well, that's all I've + ascertained up to date, but I'm still on the track, and if I hear + any further news, I'll let you know at once." + +When the captain stopped reading, all of them looked very serious, and +no one said a word for several minutes. + +"You see," he began at last, "why I don't like the looks of the thing. +This seems to cover almost all the points we've been in doubt about, +though of course, it _does_ leave quite a little to conjecture. I +somehow dislike to think of little Cecily as a mixture of Chinese and +English. In fact, it's almost impossible to think of her as such. And +yet it seems remarkably near the truth." + +"If that man assumed a name," interrupted Marcia, "I suppose it might as +easily be Marlowe as anything else." + +"Just as easily," admitted Captain Brett. + +"And he went back to England--just where Cecily came here from," added +Janet, lugubriously. + +"But then why doesn't Cecily remember something about him?" cried +Marcia, hopefully. + +"He may have been dead a good while, or he may have sent her off +somewhere else," answered the captain, dashing this hope. "He wouldn't +be likely to drag a child about in any such life as he must have had to +lead." + +They all sank into a depressed silence again. Suddenly Marcia had +another idea. + +"But look here!" she exclaimed. "Major Goodrich says that man was at +Hong Kong and the bracelet says 'Amoy,' as plain as plain can be. Isn't +that enough proof that it can't be the same one?" + +Again the captain had to dampen her hopes. "They might have gone to Amoy +to be married," he said. "It's entirely possible. You can't tell +anything about that." + +"And besides," put in Janet, "you got the bracelet at Hong Kong, didn't +you, Captain Brett? So if it really belonged to those people, it was +still pretty near home." + +"Well, it is useless to conjecture about these things," added the +captain. "What bothers me most of all is the question of what earthly +connection all this can have with Miss Benedict. There doesn't seem to +be the least likelihood that the Carringfords were any relations of +hers, and unless Cecily was simply sent there on a chance, because it +was known that she was a wealthy woman and might be willing to provide +for the child, I'm quite at a loss to explain it." + +"I wonder if there is any way we could find out?" mused Marcia. + +"I know a very good way," declared Janet. "Simply ask her." + +"What? And explain all this strange business about Cecily's parents +right away?" demanded Marcia. + +"Oh, no! Just ask her if she ever had any connections in England named +Carringford. She'll say either yes or no to that. And if she says yes, +why then we'll know we are on the right track and can think what to do +next." + +"Janet's advice is pretty good," asserted Captain Brett. "And if I were +you, I'd put the question to Miss Benedict the next time you see her. +It's about the only way I can think of now to solve this riddle." + +And so it was decided that the very next day, when the girls expected to +go and visit Cecily, they should ask Miss Benedict the dread question. + + * * * * * + +Cecily met them at the gate the next afternoon. "Oh, I'm so glad you've +come!" she cried. "I'm really very lonely. Miss Benedict is going to be +away all the afternoon because she has some business to attend to. She +says we can sit in the garden." + +At this piece of news the girls' faces fell. + +"Why, what's the matter?" questioned Cecily. "Don't you care to? I +thought you'd be rather pleased." + +"Indeed, it will be fine!" declared Marcia, striving to hide her +disappointment at the news that Miss Benedict would not be visible that +day. She and Janet had counted so positively on having one at least, of +their vexed questions settled immediately that it was difficult to feel +they must wait two or three days more. For on the morrow Cecily was to +visit them, as they now spent alternate days in each others' houses, and +the day after, Captain Brett had promised to take the three of them on a +trip up the Hudson. + +All that afternoon, however, Marcia and Janet were noticeably +inattentive and absent-minded. Once Marcia, who was reading aloud to the +others, stopped short in the middle of a sentence, and remained for +three whole minutes gazing off at nothing. And at this, Cecily could +contain her wonder no longer. + +"Girls, are you, by any chance--annoyed at me?" she ventured. Marcia +suddenly dragged herself back to the affairs of the moment. + +"Of course not, deary. How could you think such a thing?" she declared +heartily. + +"Then something else is the matter," insisted Cecily. "You are worrying +about something. I never knew you to act so strangely. Now tell me, +aren't you?" + +Marcia glanced uneasily at Janet. "Well, yes, we are," she admitted +reluctantly. "But please don't ask us anything about it just yet, +Cecily. Something that has come up lately seems kind of queer and--and +unpleasant. But it may turn out all right in the end, so we don't want +to tell you till we know positively." + +Cecily looked alarmed. "Is it--is it anything about me?" she faltered. +"But perhaps I oughtn't to ask." Marcia looked terribly unhappy at this +question, and Janet came to her rescue. + +"Yes, it is, Cecily," she declared with assumed cheerfulness. "Captain +Brett has stumbled across something that seems as if it might have some +connection with your affairs. But we don't want you to hear about it +till we are positive. Now don't worry about it, because I'm perfectly +certain everything is going to turn out all right. You won't worry, will +you?" She put her arm around Cecily and laid her cheek against the +golden hair. + +"No, I'll try not to," Cecily assured them, "and I'll promise not to ask +you another thing about it till you're ready to tell me yourselves." +After that she settled down quietly, but it was apparent to the girls +that, in spite of her assurances, she was worried and nervous and +unhappy. Presently Janet had an inspiration. + +"You two sit here. I'm going out for a few moments," she announced, +determined to break the tension of unrest and nervousness by some +diversion. Nor would she reveal to them what her errand was to be. She +returned in twenty minutes, however, with a box of delicious French +ice-cream and some dainty cakes. And for the next half-hour they had a +gay time in the garden, serving and consuming the welcome treat. In the +end they had temporarily quite forgotten the unhappiness of the earlier +hour, and when they returned home the two girls left Cecily laughing and +cheerful. + +Nor did she, all through the ensuing two days, refer in any way to their +conversation in the garden. If the matter worried her, she gave no sign, +and the girls could not help admiring her self-control. + +Three days later, Marcia and Janet went again to spend the afternoon +with Cecily, and found to their relief that Miss Benedict was at home. +At least, they learned the fact from Cecily. The lady herself they did +not see when they entered. And indeed, there was a chance, that they +might not have so much as a glimpse of her during their visit, for it +frequently happened that she was not visible during an entire afternoon. + +Would she speak to them that day? That was the question. And, what was +even more important, would they have a chance to speak to her unobserved +by Cecily? For they did not wish the girl to overhear what they had to +ask, nor even to know that they were seeking an interview with her +guardian. + +For the major part of the afternoon it did not seem as if their wish +would be granted. Miss Benedict did not appear, and so nervous and +anxious were they that they could scarcely keep their thoughts on the +conversation that Cecily was striving to keep up or, later, on the book +they were reading. Cecily had declared that her room seemed very warm, +so they were sitting once more in the garden. This also was a +disappointment, for it lessened considerably their chances of seeing the +lady of their hopes. + +Half-past five came round, and still they had not attained their wish. +Marcia had just risen, with a resigned sigh, to propose that they take +their departure, when the side door opened and Miss Benedict appeared. +At the sight of her the hearts of Marcia and Janet gave a delighted +thump, and they greeted her with a pleasure, the warmth of which she +could not entirely understand. + +But now came the problem of getting Cecily out of the way for a time. It +was evident that she had no intention of leaving them of her own accord. +And it was Marcia's happy idea that solved this riddle. + +"Cecily," she suddenly inquired, "do you happen to have finished that +book I lent you last week?" + +"Oh, yes! I finished it last night. I meant to return it to-day," said +Cecily. "Wait a moment and I'll get it from my room. You must be anxious +to finish it yourself, I know." And she hurried indoors, unconscious of +the unutterable relief with which they watched her go. When she was out +of sight, Marcia turned to Miss Benedict. + +"Please pardon me for asking a personal question," she began hurriedly, +"but it is only because we think it is something that concerns Cecily. +Did you ever have, in England or anywhere, any relatives or--or even +friends by the name of Carringford?" Miss Benedict was bonneted and +veiled as usual, so they could not see her face. And they would have +given much to have been able to read her expression when she heard this +question. + +But she answered, very promptly and positively: "No, I never knew of any +one at all by that name. Why do you ask?" + +They could hear Cecily's footsteps returning down the stairs. + +"Only because we have discovered something in connection with people of +that name, that seems to concern Cecily," Marcia explained hastily. +"Sometime we will tell you all about it. We thought perhaps you'd know +them. Please--please don't tell Cecily we've spoken about it--just yet." +Miss Benedict had only time to signify that she would follow their +request, when Cecily appeared in the doorway and the interview was over. + +As they walked home later they both admitted to a feeling of intense +relief that Miss Benedict, at least, knew nothing about any +Carringfords. + +"Of course, her not knowing them doesn't _prove_ anything," declared +Janet. "But one thing is certain. If she _had_ known them, it would +have been positive that all this horrid story is connected with Cecily. +But as she doesn't, it gives one more chance that it has nothing to do +with her." + +As they entered the hall of the apartment, the captain called out to +them from the living-room: + +"Hurry in, girls! There's another letter from the major waiting for +you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE UNEXPECTED + + +The major's letter did nothing, however, to lighten the gloom. On the +contrary, it only increased it tenfold. The main substance of it was in +this paragraph: + + It's singular how much you can dig out about a subject, once you + put your mind to it. I thought at first that I had told you all + that was known about Jack Carringford and his affairs--all that + could be discovered. But the deeper I go into it, the more I seem + to unearth. Yesterday another friend to whom I had written, on the + off-chance of getting a little information (but from whom I really + didn't expect much) sent me this bit of news. It seems he heard it + said that after Carringford went back to England he married again, + and it is thought that he did not live very long after,--died + suddenly of pneumonia, or something like it, in an obscure town in + the north of England. Perhaps this will help you some in your + amateur detective work. If I glean any more information, I'll let + you know at once. I rather enjoy this delving into the past. + +"Oh, horrors!" exclaimed Marcia. "Could anything be plainer than this is +getting to be? Of course, that explains it all! Cecily didn't remember +her father, and her 'mother' was really her stepmother. I wonder if she +knows it. She never mentioned it, but then she seldom speaks of her +mother, anyway. Though I always thought, from the way she acted, that +she was very fond of her." + +"It certainly grows more convincing with every added piece of news we +hear," mused the captain. "I wish we _could_ find some loophole for +thinking that this tangle doesn't concern Cecily. But how on earth she +can have any Chinese ancestry, beats me. She doesn't show a trace of it. +One would certainly think she'd have almond eyes and coarse, straight +hair, or a dark complexion, or _something_! It's the one thing that +gives me the slightest hope that she can't be Carringford's daughter." + +"But what shall we do now?" questioned Janet, bringing them back +abruptly to the affairs of the moment. + +"The first thing to do," declared Captain Brett, "is to question Cecily +about her father and mother, and see what _she_ knows. She may recall +something that will give us another clue. If this proves to be the right +trail, we've got to follow it up, get into communication with the +Carringfords in England, and see if they will do anything about her. +They ought to be willing to provide for his daughter. But we'll have to +be very sure of our facts, or they'll pay no attention, I suppose. +Somehow or other we'll have to trace out Carringford's career in England +after he returned. I wish I knew the name he assumed, but no one seems +to be able to tell us that." + +"But even _still_, we haven't the slightest clue to the reason why +Cecily was sent to Miss Benedict," mused Marcia. + +"Why, yes, we have something new now," interrupted Janet. "Hasn't it +occurred to you that Mr. Carringford's second wife might have been some +connection of the Benedicts, or known them, or something?" + +"Sure enough! sure enough!" cried the captain, thumping his knee. "This +puts the thing in an entirely new light. We must find out a little more +about that second wife. You get what you can from Cecily, but do be +careful how you question her. The child is sensitive, and was apparently +very fond of the lady she called her mother. Try not to probe too +deeply. And remember to explain to her that you are not asking just out +of idle curiosity, which she'd be perfectly right in resenting." + +It was with no very pleasant anticipations that Marcia and Janet looked +forward to their interview with Cecily next afternoon. How to approach +the subject without giving her a clue to the real state of affairs, they +were puzzled to know. Plan after plan they formed, only to reject after +thinking them over. "Suppose Cecily should ask this," or "What if Cecily +should inquire why we say that?" spoiled every outline of the +conversation that they could imagine. At last Janet declared: + +"It's perfectly useless to think now what we'll say, or what she'll +answer. Let's just wait till the time comes and say what seems best at +the moment. The whole conversation may be entirely different from +anything we plan." + +"I guess you're right," sighed Marcia. "I'm tired out thinking about it, +anyhow." And so they put it all aside till Cecily's arrival. + +When she came, that afternoon, she found two very serious and thoughtful +friends awaiting her. One thing at least, they had determined,--not to +put off the dreaded interview till later in the day, but have it over at +once and get it off their minds. So when they were all comfortably +seated in Marcia's cozy room, Janet began: + +"Cecily, would you mind very much if we asked you a few questions? You +remember, the other day, we said that something had come up concerning +you, we thought, and we would tell you about it later. Well, we aren't +quite ready to tell you _all_ about it yet, but it would help a great +deal if you'd answer a few questions about yourself. Will you?" And she +felt an immense sensation of relief, after these words were spoken, at +having at least taken the first plunge. + +"Why, of course!" assented Cecily, wonderingly. "That is, if I possibly +can." + +"And you'll remember that we aren't asking just out of curiosity, but +because it may help to untangle your affairs?" interrupted Marcia, +anxiously. Cecily only smiled and squeezed her hand, as if an answer to +that were unnecessary. + +"Well, dear," said Janet, in a hesitating voice, "could you tell us +whether you know this: was your father ever married twice?" + +Cecily started and flushed a little. "Oh, I--I don't know anything about +such a thing!" she murmured. "I--I don't think so. You see, he died +before I remember anything about him, and my mother never spoke of him +to me very much." + +"Then she never told you anything about that?" went on Janet. + +"No," replied Cecily, very positively. + +"Now, I have one more question to ask that I'm afraid may startle you, +but please don't attach too much importance to it. Was the lady you +called mother your real mother or your stepmother?" + +This time Cecily fairly jumped. "Oh, no, no!" she cried. "I'm sure, I'm +very sure she was my own mother. She would certainly have told me if she +had not been. I would have known it. Why do you ask?" + +"That, you know, is what we can't just explain yet," answered Janet, +evidently distressed. "Were you very, very fond of her, Cecily?" + +"Indeed, yes!" replied the puzzled girl. "How could I help but be? She +was so lovely and sweet and good to me, and seemed to live only for my +comfort and happiness. I never dreamed of such a thing as her not being +my own mother." There were real tears in Cecily's eyes as she made this +declaration. Marcia and Janet experienced as unpleasant a sensation as +if they had been compelled to torture a helpless kitten. And yet the +task must be gone through with and there were further queries to make. + +"Do forgive us for all this, Cecily," begged Marcia. "It hurts us +horribly to make you feel badly. We wouldn't do it for the world if +there weren't a good reason. But can you tell us this? Was there +anything your mother ever said or did that would in any way suggest that +she might not be--your own mother? Think hard, Cecily dear." + +The girl sat a long while, chin in hand, staring out of the window at +the tightly shuttered expanse of "Benedict's Folly" opposite. No one +spoke, and the others made a vain pretense of working hard at their +embroidery. But the hands of both shook so that the stitches were very, +very crooked indeed. At last Cecily turned to them and spoke in a very +subdued voice: + +"These things are making me very unhappy, but I know you only mean them +for my good. My mother did say one or two things that I thought nothing +of at the time, but now, since your questions, seem as if they may have +another meaning. One was this. We were looking in the mirror together +one time, and I said how queer it was that I didn't look a bit like +her. I was so fair and light-haired, and had rosy cheeks, and she was +dark and her eyes were brown and her hair almost black. She smiled and +said: + +"'No, it isn't very strange when you think--' and then stopped very +suddenly and flushed quite red. And I asked her what she meant, but she +only replied: 'Oh, nothing, nothing, dear! Children often look very +different from their parents, not at all like them.' And she wouldn't +say any more. I thought it strange for a while, but soon forgot all +about it. I can't imagine now what she meant, unless it was--that. The +only other thing I remember is this. I asked her one time whether, when +I was a tiny little baby, I wore pink or blue bows on my dresses. She +was very busy about something at the time and she just said, sort of +absent-mindedly, 'I don't know I'm sure.' And then she added, in a great +hurry, 'Oh, I don't remember! Pink, I guess.' I thought it strange that +she should forget how she dressed me, for she always had a very good +memory. But I forgot that, too, very soon. That is all." + +Marcia and Janet glanced uneasily at each other. The information seemed +to confirm their worst apprehensions. But Janet went on: + +"Just one more question, dear, and we'll stop this horrid inquisition. +Can you tell us what was your mother's maiden name, the name of her +people?" + +"Yes," said Cecily. "It was Treadwell. But she hadn't any people +left--they were all dead, and she was the last one of her family. But, +oh! can't you tell me, girls, why you have had to ask all these +questions? I have waited so patiently, and I have worried so about it +all. And what you have said to-day has made me feel worse than ever." + +"Dear heart, we don't want to tell you quite yet," soothed Marcia. "It +wouldn't do you any good to know about it till we're positive beyond a +doubt. It isn't anything so very terrible, anyhow. Nothing to worry +about at all. But just something we wish might be a little different. +And nothing could possibly make the least difference in the way we care +for you, anyway, so just don't worry another bit. Now I'm going to play +for you." And she drew her violin from its case. + +Marcia gave them quite a concert that afternoon, rendering selection +after selection to please them, glad indeed of the diversion and relief +from the unpleasantness of their accomplished task. But she did not play +the "Träumerei," for some reason not very well defined even to herself, +but vaguely connected with recent disclosures. At last Cecily herself +asked for it, and then, of course, Marcia could not refrain from +obliging her. When it was over, Cecily took her departure, and the +girls, left alone, plunged at once into the discussion of the most +recent developments of the mystery. + +That evening Captain Brett and the two girls held a council of war. + +"There's no denying," he said, "we've discovered the most important +thing yet in learning that name--Treadwell. We've something to work +from now. With that to start from, I can set on foot some inquiries over +in England that may establish her identity. And you must ask Miss +Benedict (though I hate to be constantly troubling her in this way) if +she has any recollection of some one by that name who could possibly +have any claim on her. Do this as soon as possible. We're certain to get +at the root of the matter very soon now." + +"Do you think," asked Marcia, "that those remarks of her mother's that +Cecily repeated look as if we were right in believing it to be her +stepmother?" + +"It certainly seems so to me," he acknowledged. "Of course, we must +remember this. When you have a suspicion that certain things are so, +every little circumstance and every lightest remark seem to confirm you +in that belief. Often these things have absolutely no bearing on it +whatever, but you _think_ they have, simply because you fear that they +have or want them to have. So we mustn't be misled by chance remarks. I +will admit, however, that these particular ones seem singularly to bear +us out in our conjectures." + +"Well, do let's get some of these things settled to-morrow," sighed +Marcia. "I'm losing so much sleep over it that I'm beginning to feel +like an owl. I just worry and worry all night long it seems to me. Let's +ask Miss Benedict about the name of Treadwell when we go there, if we +can possibly manage to see her." + +"I'm sorry to disappoint you about that," interrupted the captain. "But +I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to remain at home to-morrow. I'm due +downtown on some errands that will take me to a number of places. And at +the same time, I'm expecting an important business message over the +telephone. I shall have to ask you to be here without fail to take the +message for me. I can't trust Eliza to get it right. So you'll have to +put off your visit for another day. But don't be too much disappointed, +for while I'm away I shall be making inquiries as to how we must go +about tracing the name of Treadwell in England. That will be something +accomplished." And with this consolation the girls had to be content. + +"Now," said Janet, next morning, when the captain had gone and they had +resigned themselves to a long day of waiting, "I have a plan to propose. +Let's not talk or even _think_ a thing about all this business to-day. +If we do, we'll only make ourselves more miserable than we are. I found +a perfectly fascinating new book in the library yesterday. Let's sit and +read it, turn about, and see if we can't both finish those centerpieces +we've been working on so long. We'll have to work like everything to do +it. That ought to keep our minds off of our troubles. And we'll +telephone for some French pastry for dessert at luncheon, and some candy +for this afternoon." + +The plan seemed to offer pleasant possibilities, and they both settled +themselves comfortably in the cool living-room to pass the morning. The +book was well begun and the embroidery advancing rapidly, when Eliza +came in with a letter just left in the box, and deposited it on the +library table. + +"It's for the captain," she announced, as she turned away. Marcia jumped +up and scrutinized the writing. + +"Oh, Janet!" she exclaimed at once; "it's from the major!" + +"It is?" cried her friend, apprehensively. "Then it's some more horrid +news he's unearthed. I'm certain of it! Not a letter comes from him but +it's something to worry us more. I just hate the sight of them!" + +"Yes; and what's more," moaned Marcia, "we can't even know what's in +this one till Father comes home this evening. Why, I feel as if I'd go +crazy, having to wait all that time!" + +"Well, you'll have to wait," commented Janet, philosophically, "so you +might as well do it as peacefully as you can. Come, let's go on with our +book." + +It was all very well to speak philosophically about the matter, however, +but to _act_ so was a different affair. Try as they might, they could +not, from that moment, concentrate their minds on the pleasant program +they had mapped out for themselves. A dozen times during the morning +Marcia would stop reading and glance speculatively at the unopened +letter. A dozen times Janet left her fancy-work and strolled over to +inspect the superscription anew. The French pastry at luncheon failed to +soothe them, and the candy in the afternoon remained uneaten. + +At three o'clock they took to staring out of the window to watch for the +captain's return. And as they watched they detailed to each other the +various things they surmised might be in the major's letter. Marcia +asserted that he had probably discovered the second wife's name to be +Treadwell, thus confirming their worst fears. And Janet declared that he +had no doubt ascertained just why Cecily had been sent to the Benedict +home. Perhaps it was even to prevent her being sent back to China to her +mandarin grandfather. Nothing they could imagine was too dreadful to fit +into the scheme of things. By half past five they were the most +miserable pair of girls in the big city. And at that moment, they heard +the captain's key in the hall door. + +"Quick! quick! quick!" they breathlessly panted at him, explaining +nothing, but only waving the major's letter in his face. Asking no +questions, he took it, slit it open, and glanced hurriedly through the +contents. Then he gave a long, low whistle. + +"Oh, tell us!" groaned Marcia. "What more that's quite horrible has he +found out?" + +For answer the captain sat down and laughed till the tears stood in his +eyes. At last he managed to gasp: "Well, of all the dances I've ever +been led, this is the worst and most foolish! But it's just like the +major. He always was the most impulsive chap. You'll be delighted to +know that he's made one more discovery--and that is that he has been +'barking up the wrong tree,' as they say. Here's what he writes: + + "It occurred to me yesterday, in connection with this affair, to + look up some of the old diaries I used to keep in the China days. + They have been stored away in the attic in a chest for years, but + I got them out and have been running over them, hoping to come + across an entry that might have some bearing on the matter in + question. And, quite to my chagrin, I did discover this. I will + quote it, just as it stands: _Today Carringford was married + according to native customs. None of us invited._ + + "But here's the point of departure, so to speak. This entry was + made on March 10, 1890, and you see it doesn't agree at all with + the inscription on your bracelet, which is, I believe, September + 25, 1889. So, of course, the only inference that can be drawn is + that they were two separate and distinct affairs that have + absolutely no connection. So sorry! Anything else I can do for + you, I'll be delighted, etc., etc." + +The captain did not finish the remainder of the letter, for the +excellent reason that no one of his audience was paying the least +attention to it. + +When he looked up, at this point, Marcia was prone on the couch +alternately sobbing and laughing and sobbing again, and Janet was +staring out of the window, blinking hard to restrain the tears of relief +that would insist on rolling down her cheeks. + +And in the midst of this curious state of affairs, who should open the +door and walk in but--Aunt Minerva! Suitcase in hand, she stared at the +three in amazement for a second till, with a glad cry of recognition, +they all rushed upon her and literally snowed her under with embraces. + +"I couldn't let you know I was coming, because I didn't know myself till +this morning," she explained. "Drusilla's sister Ellen came in +unexpectedly from the West, and of course that relieved me. I just +packed up in half an hour, and here I am. Whatever is the matter with +you all? When I came in you looked as if you'd just attended the funeral +of your last friend. I hope Eliza hasn't given you all indigestion!" + +"We'll tell you after dinner, Minerva," laughed the captain. "It's a +long and complicated tale. My, but we're glad to see you again!" + +That evening they made her sit down and listen while they rehearsed the +story. It had to begin with the description of their day on shipboard, +the very day that she had gone away, and ended with the major's final +letter. + +She listened to it all very quietly and without any comments whatever, +except for an indignant and scornful sniff once in a while. + +"Well," demanded Marcia, when it was over and they were waiting for her +to speak, "what do you think of it?" + +"I think," she remarked cryptically, "that you needed Minerva Brett here +to manage this affair for you. _She_ would have given you a little +better advice than to go off on a wild goose chase down to Pennsylvania +on the wrong trail!" + +They stared at her in open-mouthed amazement. + +"You might explain yourself, Minerva," mildly suggested the captain. + +"I _might_, but I'm not going to!" she replied firmly. "At least, not +just at present." And with a tantalizing smile, she sweetly bade them +all good night and departed to her room. + +"Janet," said Marcia, that night, as she curled her arms up over her +head on the pillow, "isn't it heavenly to go to sleep with that horrid +weight lifted from your mind? We seem to be just as far as ever from +solving the riddle about Cecily, but at least, the darling isn't the +granddaughter of a mandarin! But, do you know, I can't help but wonder +where that poor little granddaughter is, and what became of her. She +sort of seems like a real person to me now." + +"I don't wonder about her, and what's more, I don't care," sighed Janet. +"As long as it wasn't Cecily. What's puzzling me is how your aunt +expects to solve the riddle? What can _she_ know about it?" + +"Well, I don't bother about _that_," returned Marcia, "because I'm glad +to let somebody else have a hand in working at it now. I'm content to +leave it to Aunt Minerva!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AUNT MINERVA TAKES COMMAND + + +For an entire week thereafter Aunt Minerva went her own mysterious way, +calm and unruffled herself, but keeping the rest of her family on +tenter-hooks of excitement. + +She wrote mysterious letters which she would allow no one but herself to +mail, and received mysterious replies, the contents of which she kept a +dark secret. They watched her with the feeling that they were quite +outside the game now, and that she had the keys of the situation +entirely in her own hands. Which was indeed the truth! + +At last one day, after receiving a particularly bulky communication, she +deigned to speak. + +"Can you carry a message for me to Miss Benedict?" she inquired of +Marcia and Janet. + +"Yes!" they replied eagerly, but humbly. + +"Ask her if she could possibly grant an interview in her own house to +the four of us here--and one other. It's very important." + +"Oh, Aunt Minerva, you _know_ she never receives _any_ strangers in the +house!" expostulated Marcia. + +"I know that, of course. And you told me the reason, which I quite +appreciate. But there's bound to come a time, even in her peculiar +experience, when it's expedient to break a rule like that. The time has +come now, and you can tell her that I'm sure she'll be very sorry if she +does not grant this request. The matter intimately concerns her, or I +would not dream of intruding on her." + +"Well, you may as well tell _us_ what you've been concocting, Minerva," +interrupted Captain Brett. "You've kept us in the dark about long +enough, haven't you? And if I'm to go in there with the procession, I'd +like to know a thing or two about where I'm at, instead of sitting +around like a dummy! And who is this 'other one' you allude to, anyway?" + +Miss Minerva laughed at his impatience. "You may well ask, Edwin! I +think you must have been about as blind as a bat not to see right along +what struck _me_ the very first minute after you told me what the +jig-saw things on that bracelet meant! As soon as I heard the word +'Amoy' the idea jumped right into my mind. About two months ago I heard +a most wonderful address by a Dr. Atwater, a medical missionary from +China, whose headquarters are at the hospital in _Amoy_. And you can +easily see that I thought of him at once, when--" + +"By Jove!" thundered the captain, striking his knee with his fist, "what +a jolly goose I've been not to have thought of the _missions_ there at +once!" + +"I should say you were!" commented Miss Minerva, caustically. "You and +the major together!" + +"Well, you see I've never come in contact with them much--" began the +captain, apologetically. + +"Never mind that now," went on Miss Minerva. "I thought of Dr. Atwater +right away. He's been there many years, and knows something about most +every one in the region, I guess. Anyhow, I decided that I'd get his +address (he's in this country on a year's furlough) and write to him +about this queer case. And I did. And he has answered me--" + +"And were you right?" they all interrupted. + +"I was _so_ right," she announced triumphantly, "that I've asked him to +come and tell this story (which he has only outlined in his letter) in +full to Miss Benedict. And I want you all to be there to hear it. And +what's more, I'm not going to tell you another word about it till you +hear it from him, so it's no use to tease for hints! Go right in and ask +Miss Benedict when she can arrange for this interview--the sooner, the +better!" + + * * * * * + +It was not an easy matter to persuade Miss Benedict to grant Aunt +Minerva's request. She was shy and timid about receiving strangers, and +her affection of the eyes, as well as her curious manner of living, made +it hard for her to do so. She had to acknowledge that it would be even +harder to see them elsewhere. Nor could she believe that the affair +really concerned _her_, except very indirectly--through Cecily, perhaps. +It was for Cecily's sake alone that she at last gave a reluctant +consent, assigning the following Wednesday afternoon as the appointed +time. And the intervening two days was spent by them all in a restless +fever of expectation--all, at least, except Aunt Minerva! + + * * * * * + +On Wednesday afternoon, Dr. Atwater arrived at the apartment and was +taken in charge at once by Miss Minerva, who guarded him like a dragon +lest a hint of the important secret should slip out before the appointed +time. He was a tall, angular man with a gray, Vandyke beard, and his +face was grave in repose. But he talked brightly and interestingly and +had the jolliest laugh in the world. The girls thought him very unlike +their preconceived notions of a missionary. He and the captain +fraternized at once, exchanging tales of the Far East to which Janet +and Marcia listened in absorbed wonder. + +But at last Aunt Minerva was ready, and the "procession" (as the captain +insisted on calling it) filed into the street and proceeded to the gate +of "Benedict's Folly." So unusual was the sight of the little crowd +waiting to be admitted, where no admittance had been granted in so many +years, that every passer-by stared at them open-mouthed. + +Miss Benedict opened the gate, bonneted and veiled as usual, and Marcia +made the introductions as best she could, to which Miss Benedict's +replies were murmured so low that no one could hear them. Then she led +the way to the house and into the darkened parlor, where they all sat +down, with a sensation of heavy constraint. After that, Cecily came in +and was presented to Dr. Atwater. He started slightly when he saw her, +and looked into her face long and scrutinizingly in the dim light. + +When Miss Benedict had removed her bonnet and veil Aunt Minerva broke +the silence: + +"Miss Benedict, I have brought Dr. Atwater here because I have +discovered that he has something to tell you--something that will be of +intense interest to you. I know this may seem incredible, but I can only +beg that you will do us the favor to listen." + +Miss Benedict inclined her head without speaking, and Aunt Minerva +continued: + +"You have heard, I believe, about the curious incident of the bracelets, +but I do not know whether you have heard about the translation of the +strange characters on them." + +Miss Benedict murmured that she had not, and Miss Minerva explained it +as briefly as she could. Then she went on: + +"Dr. Atwater, here, is a medical missionary from Amoy, and I have found +that he not only knew the owner of the bracelets, but has some personal +recollections about them that we think will concern you. Will you listen +to Dr. Atwater, if you please?" + +Miss Benedict again bowed in assent, and Dr. Atwater began in an easy, +conversational tone: + +"Miss Brett has remarked correctly that I knew the owner of the +bracelets, and all about the characters on them, and a good deal of the +story connected with them. By sheer chance, or rather, perhaps, I ought +to say by very good reasoning, she has hit on about the only person +living now who does know anything about them! Here's the story: + +"A good many years ago in Amoy--I was quite a _young_ doctor then--I was +thrown in with a clever young fellow who had recently landed there, +having come on a sailing-ship from America. He seemed rather at loose +ends, so to speak,--didn't know the language, didn't have any money, +didn't know what to do with himself, didn't have any occupation, and +spent most of his time wandering aimlessly about the town. + +"He was a fine, upstanding, straightforward chap (he said his name was +Archibald Ferris), but he evidently had something on his mind, for he +was gloomy and depressed. It began to worry me for fear he'd drift into +trouble if he kept on that way. So I tried to get him interested in my +own work, and invited him to go around with me on some of my long tours. +We didn't have any hospital then, and I had to go about from town to +town doing my medical work as I went. He came with me very gladly, and +was of a good deal of assistance, and we grew to be firm friends. But I +realized there was something he was pining for, and after a long while +he confessed to me what it was. + +"He wanted a _violin_! He adored music, played well, but had lost or +parted from his instrument in some way. (He didn't explain that, just +then.) Well, a missionary's salary isn't munificent, so I couldn't very +well grant his wish out of my own pocket, much as I wanted to. The best +I could do was to get him a position in a Chinese tea-exporting house in +Amoy, where he could earn the money himself. It was better for him to be +regularly occupied, anyway. + +"After a few months he had saved a sufficient sum, and sent off to +Shanghai for his coveted treasure--he couldn't wait to get it over from +America! After it came he was actually happy--for a while. He _was_ a +marvelous musician for his age, I'll admit, and he could hold us +spellbound an entire evening at a time with his bow. The natives adored +him, and gave him the name 'Chok-gàk ê lâng' or 'maker of melodies.' + +"Well, he had the musical temperament, and after his violin came he +couldn't stay long in the tea-house, but got to going about with me +again on my tours--always with his precious violin. He was really of the +greatest assistance, because his music was almost as good as an +anæsthetic in many instances--could calm the most excitable fever-case I +ever came across. + +"It was on one of these tours that he met young Miss Cecily Marlowe at +the English mission in Sio-khé--" + +At this point every one gave a little start of surprise and looked +toward Cecily, who alone sat gazing, wide-eyed and absorbed, at Dr. +Atwater. + +"She was a wonderfully beautiful girl," he continued, "with a color +like English roses in her cheeks. The Chinese called her +'Flower-maiden,' or 'Hor-lú.' She had but recently come to the mission +from her home in England. Well, it was a case of love at first sight on +both sides! And before many more months Ferris announced to me that he +was going back into the position at the tea-house and there earn enough +money to be able to marry her. But he also told me that Miss Marlowe, +while very much in love with him, was still very devoted to her work +there and very earnest about the cause for which she had left her home +and come so far to serve. She insisted that, if they married, she must +still be allowed to continue in the missionary work. To this he was +perfectly willing to assent. + +"So they were married in the English mission at Amoy, and on the +wedding-day he gave her this pair of bracelets which he had had made +after his own design. They were not an expensive gift, but he was poor, +in worldly goods, and it was the best he could afford. After the +honeymoon they built a little home on the island of Ko-longsu, right +near the city of Amoy. He went on with his work in the tea-house, and +she with her teaching in the mission-school on the island. + +"It seemed an ideal arrangement, and they were ideally happy for a +number of years. He never advanced very far in the tea-house, for he +loved his music too well and he had no head for business. But he made +enough to keep them comfortably, and more they did not want. + +"Then about 1898, I think, came a change. To their great joy a little +daughter was born to them. She was a beautiful baby, and for over a year +there was no happier home in all China. But one day, when the baby was +about a year and a half old, Ferris came to me and told me he was in +trouble and wanted my advice. + +"He began by telling me that the baby seemed to be drooping and that he +himself was not feeling quite up to the mark. I looked them both over +and found he was right. The climate was too much for them. It is for +many foreigners sooner or later. I told him they ought to go home for a +year or so and recuperate. He said he couldn't--didn't have any home to +go to, in fact. Had long ago quarreled violently with his people, and +would never go back to them. Moreover, he had his wife and baby to +consider. He couldn't afford to give up and lose his position. If he +did, what were they to do? + +"I suggested that they go to his wife's people in England. He said there +was difficulty in that direction, too. She had only a married brother +and his wife, and they had not approved of her giving up all her +prospects to come to China as a missionary. They heard from them only at +long intervals, though recently, to be sure, they had offered to take +care of the little girl if the time came that she needed change of air. + +"Ferris told me that he and his wife naturally could not bear to +consider such a thing, but on the other hand, the baby's welfare must be +their first consideration. What should I advise them to do? + +"I considered the matter carefully, and at last told him he'd better +accept the offer to care for the baby for a year or so. She, at least, +would be provided for, and he and his wife could then take their chances +without imperiling her future. To follow this advice nearly broke their +hearts, but the next missionaries who went back to England on furlough +took the baby with them, and gave her into the care of the brother and +his wife. It is needless to say that Cecily Ferris is the same whom we +know as Cecily Marlowe. I would recognize her anywhere, for she is the +image of her mother." And he looked toward the girl sitting in the dim +light, held by the wonder of his story. The silence that ensued was +broken first by her. + +"Tell me, if you please," she half whispered, "did my father ever--ever +play to me on his violin? Do you know what he played?" + +"Why, I'm sure he did," smiled Dr. Atwater. "I used to stop at his house +early in the evening sometimes, and I generally found him fiddling away +by the side of your cradle. Mostly it was an air he called 'Träumerei,' +or something like that. I'm not very good at remembering musical +names." + +"I knew it!--I _knew_ I'd heard it somewhere, over and over again, when +I was little!" she cried. "And yet I never could remember anything else +about it!" + +"He used to say it was his favorite," remarked Dr. Atwater. + +Suddenly Miss Benedict spoke, for the first time during the recital. +There was a tremble of suppressed excitement in her voice. + +"Is that all the story?" + +"Oh, no!" resumed Dr. Atwater. "There's not much more to tell, but I'm +sorry to say, the rest is not very cheerful. After the baby's departure +Ferris's health failed perceptibly. He finally gave up his position, but +Mrs. Ferris kept on with her work and nursed him as well. But the strain +of all this began to tell on her, and at last, in 1900, I advised her to +take a holiday, and go north to Tientsin with her husband to recuperate. +We missionaries raised enough among ourselves to finance this little +vacation for them. Before he went, however, Ferris had a long talk with +me one day, and confided to me a few things about himself and his past. +To begin with, he said that Archibald Ferris was not his right name. He +had assumed it at a certain period of his life because he had broken +away from his family, and did not deem it best that what remained of +that family should ever know he existed. They probably thought him +dead--in fact he was sure that they did. And his return to existence, so +far as they were concerned, would simply complicate family affairs. Only +his wife knew who these relatives were. He had recently, however, sent +word to his wife's brother that should anything ever happen by which +Cecily would be left alone, she should be sent to America and placed in +the care of this family, whose name he had given them under the seal of +secrecy, if the brother and his wife were unable or unwilling to provide +for her. He also sent one of the bracelets to England to be given to his +little daughter, requesting that she be always allowed to keep it. The +mother always wore the other one. + +"He was very much depressed that day, and told me, besides, that his +career had been wrecked in the beginning--that he had dreamed of being a +great violinist, but had been thwarted in strange ways. However, he +declared that his life in China had been happy beyond words, except for +the unhappy present. Then he bade me good-by, as he was starting for +Tientsin the next day." + +Dr. Atwater stopped abruptly and swallowed hard, as if what he had to +tell next came with an effort. He went on presently. "It was at the time +of the Boxer uprising. Ferris and his wife had almost reached Tientsin +when the trouble broke out there, and--they were never seen alive +again!" He stopped, and there was a tense silence in the room. + +At last he continued: "I have always blamed myself for having been the +unwitting cause of their death. I had advised them to go to Tientsin, +though of course I could not foresee the dark days that were about to +come. I wish with all my soul that I had not done so, that I had, +perhaps, sent them somewhere else, but it is irrevocable now. There is +no use dwelling on the past. + +"Doubtless that is how the other bracelet came to be cast loose on the +Oriental world. Probably it was stolen at the time, and passed from hand +to hand till it came into the possession of Captain Brett. It is a +strange coincidence that brought it back at last to its mate! + +"It became my sad duty to notify Mr. Marlowe of the tragedy. In his +reply--a frank, manly letter--he expressed his regret that a difference +of opinion had ever interrupted the cordiality of his relations with his +sister and her husband, and said that, as he and his wife already loved +little Cecily devotedly, they would adopt her as their own. They were +reluctant to have her childhood shadowed by her parents' sorrowful +story, and so believed it best that she should never know that she was +not indeed their daughter, Cecily Marlowe. + +"Well, that is the story of the man who called himself Archibald +Ferris," said Dr. Atwater. He looked about him inquiringly and added: "I +hope that my telling it has given all the enlightenment that was +expected?" + +During his long recital every one had sat with eyes fastened upon him, +and no one of his audience had a thought for the other. Now that it was +over they each drew a long breath and settled back in their chairs. And +then, for the first time, they noticed the curious conduct of Miss +Benedict. + +She was sitting far forward in her chair, her big gray eyes almost +starting from her head, her hands clutching the arms of the chair till +the blue veins stood out. On her forehead were great beads of +perspiration, and she drew her breath in little gasps. Quite unconscious +of their united gaze, she leaned forward and touched Dr. Atwater's arm +with an imploring hand. + +"Was there--was there no way of--of ascertaining his _real_ name?" she +stammered. + +Dr. Atwater looked at her with compassion in his kindly eyes. "I know of +but one thing that might have served as an identification," he conceded. +"When I was giving him the medical examination, I noticed on his left +upper arm two small initials surrounded by a tiny row of dots. They +were just such a mark as small boys often tattoo themselves with in +indelible ink, and of course, they are there for life. Doubtless he had +so decorated himself with his initials in his boyhood days--" + +"Oh, what _were_ the initials?" interrupted Miss Benedict in a stifled +voice. + +"They were 'S. B.,'" replied Dr. Atwater. + +With a little choking cry, Miss Benedict buried her face in her hands. + +"Oh, it can't--it _can't_ be _possible_!" they heard her murmur. Then in +an instant she had collected herself and gazed about at them all, +amazement and incredulity in her lovely eyes. + +"My friends," she spoke very quietly, "I cannot understand what this +means. My brother's name was Sydney Benedict, and I remember when, as a +boy, he had tattooed those initials on his left arm, as Dr. Atwater has +described them. And he performed wonderfully on the violin, and dreamed +only of being a great artist some day. He longed to go abroad and +study, but my father would not hear of it. He wished his only son to +enter his business and continue it after him. They were both +high-tempered and had many terrible quarrels about it. I--my sister and +I--sided with my father. At last my father threatened to disinherit +Sydney if he did not accede to his wishes. And on the following +morning--it was his twenty-first birthday--we found only a note pinned +to his pillow, saying he had gone away forever. He had taken with him +only his violin. + +"But," and here she hesitated, gazing around inquiringly on the company, +"I cannot understand what follows. Two weeks later we received word from +a steamer that had just arrived in Europe from New York, that a young +man named Sydney Benedict had fallen or jumped overboard one night when +they were two days out, and his loss was not discovered till next day. +Only his violin remained in the cabin. He was certainly lost at sea. I +cannot understand--" She suddenly pressed both hands to her head as if +it pained her. + +"Wait a moment!" cried Dr. Atwater. "I believe I can explain that. I +should have told it before, but I quite forgot; there was so much to +tell. He did once confide to me (apropos of some little adventure we had +had together on one of my trips, when I almost lost my life) that he too +had once had the narrowest kind of escape from death. He said that on +leaving America he had taken a steamer for Europe, hoping to find the +means to study there. They hadn't passed Sandy Hook, however, before he +became violently seasick, and lay in his berth like a log for +twenty-four hours. On the second night it became so stiflingly hot in +his cabin that he felt he must get to the deck for air or die. + +"So he struggled out and up the companionway, somehow, meeting no one, +for it was very late. On the deck he crawled in behind a life-boat, and +lay in a rather unprotected outer portion of the deck, so sick that he +scarcely knew where he was or how dangerous was the spot he had chosen. +All of a sudden the vessel gave an unusually heavy lurch, and before he +could clutch for any hold he was catapulted into the sea. + +"Curiously enough, the sudden ducking dispelled his horrible sickness, +and when he came to the surface he found himself striking out to swim. +Useless to shout for help from the great steamer, which had already +passed a boat's length beyond him. But he was a strong swimmer, the +night was warm, and he resolved not to give up till he _had_ to. + +"All night, till dawn, he managed to keep on the surface, swimming and +floating. And at daylight a sailing-vessel picked him up, numb and +weary, and ready to go to the bottom at the next stroke. The ship on +which he found himself was bound for China, and of course he had to 'tag +along,' working his passage as a common sailor in return for his keep. +It was then, I suspect, that he made up his mind to change his name. I +think, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Archibald Ferris and Sydney +Benedict are one and the same person!" + +At this Aunt Minerva, who hadn't spoken a word since her speech of +introduction, put on her glasses and swept the assembly with a +triumphant gaze. The girls and Captain Brett were so absorbed that they +could not utter a syllable, and Miss Benedict sat back in her chair in a +stunned silence. + +Only Cecily seemed unconscious enough of the strain to do the natural +thing. She rose from her chair and went over to Miss Benedict, dropping +down on her knees beside her, and snuggling her head on the older +woman's shoulder with a confiding movement. + +"I'm Cecily _Benedict_ now," she said simply, "and I--I love you--Aunt +Alixe! I'm glad there _was_ a good reason why I was sent over here to +you!" + +Miss Benedict looked down at the golden head, and the terrible tension +in her face relaxed. + +"Sydney's child!--my little Cecily!" they heard her murmur. + +But they heard no more, for at this point, Aunt Minerva arose and +majestically motioned the entire company out of the room! + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +SIX MONTHS LATER + + + JANET DEAR: + + I know you think I'm a wretch not to have written in so long! but + honestly, things have been happening so fast that I don't have + time to sit down and write you about one event before a brand-new + one has taken place. + + I've missed you horribly ever since you went back to Northam. It + was a shame that you had to leave just after the grand clear-up of + our mystery, for you've been missing some of the most wonderful + parts--all the lovely things that have happened since. + + I think I've already written you about some of the changes that + have taken place in "Benedict's Folly." It's the most remarkable + thing--the way Aunt Minerva has taken that place--Miss Benedict + and all--completely under her wing! Miss Benedict (who, by the + way, wants us both to call her Miss Alixe) seemed completely + helpless for a while after the "great day," and turned to Aunt + Minerva for pretty nearly everything,--principally advice! You can + imagine how Aunt Minerva is enjoying herself! She just loves + nothing better than managing people's affairs for them--if they + want her to! + + In the first place, Aunt Minerva advised her to get the house into + livable condition, and find suitable servants, and get some modern + clothes. And as poor Miss Alixe acted like a lost kitten in going + about it, Aunt Minerva just took hold and managed the whole thing. + And you'd never recognize our dilapidated old house of mystery + now, it's so changed and so lovely. Miss Alixe has decided that + now there is no further reason for her not using their large + fortune, and everything must be the nicest possible--for Cecily's + sake. + + And Cecily!--what a darling she is! Of course we are simply + inseparable. She has even begun to go to the high school with me, + because Miss Alixe _and_ Aunt Minerva have decided that it will be + better for her than studying with a private tutor. She is the + happiest thing I ever saw, and says she feels as if she were + living in a fairy-story all the time! We are just longing for the + Easter vacation to come, and your visit. Then we three can be + together again in the good old way. Won't it be glorious? + + But this is all aside from the other two big pieces of news I + wanted to tell you. Almost from the beginning Aunt Minerva has + been urging Miss Alixe to go to a first-class oculist and have her + eyes examined. And at last, a few weeks ago, they went together, + and what do you suppose is the result? He said that almost without + a doubt her sight can be restored, with proper treatment and + possibly a slight operation later. She began the treatment at + once, and already her sight is much improved. She can stand a + stronger light, and has those awful headaches less frequently. You + see, it was years since she had had any advice about them, and + they've made great strides in treatment of the eyes since then. + They can almost do the impossible. We are all so happy about it! + + And now for the last and biggest piece of news! Perhaps you are + wondering what has become of Miss Alixe's mysterious and invisible + older sister, and it is about her that I'm going to tell you. You + will never in the world be able to guess what has happened. + + Aunt Minerva insisted (again Aunt Minerva) that Miss Alixe must + have one of the big alienists (that's what they call specialists + in mental diseases, I've learned) see Miss Cornelia, the sister, + and perhaps he could tell whether anything could be done for + _her_. It took a long time to persuade Miss Alixe that there was + any use in doing this, but at last she consented. I think she has + always been very sensitive about that poor sister's losing her + mind, and she never wanted any one to see her. Even after she had + a number of servants in the house, she wouldn't let any one wait + on Miss Cornelia but herself. + + Well, the great doctor came and was there for hours and asked a + terrific lot of questions--all about everything that had happened + for years and years. He learned one thing that interested him + more than anything else, he said. Do you remember the day last + summer when we were there, sitting in the garden, and I played on + my violin--how Miss Alixe came down in a great hurry and asked me + to stop because it disturbed her sister? You may remember, too, + that I was playing "Träumerei"--had played it twice? Well, she + told the doctor that when Miss Cornelia heard that, she acted very + much excited, cried, and twisted her hands and tried to speak. + (She hasn't spoken an intelligible word since she had the + "stroke.") Miss Alixe also told him how their favorite brother had + played so much on the violin, particularly that same air. + + He said this was a most hopeful sign--it indicated that conditions + were now such that there was a possibility of her reason and + memory and even speech being restored, provided they could touch + just the right note of association. + + After he had thought the matter over a long time he decided to try + an experiment. And he selected me--little, insignificant _me_--to + help! He had me come in and bring my violin and sit in the room + with Miss Cornelia, a little behind her, so she would not notice + me particularly. Then he had Miss Alixe and Cecily also sitting + there in plain sight of her, just quietly sewing or reading and + not paying any particular attention to any one. He and Aunt + Minerva stayed outside, watching through the partly opened door. + + It was the first time I had ever seen Miss Cornelia (except that + time when the shutter blew open), and, Janet, she is _magnificent_ + looking--entirely different from what I had imagined! She is large + and stately and imposing, with white hair like Miss Alixe's, piled + under a lace cap, and great black eyes. She just sat there quietly + knitting, and took no notice of any one. You would not have known + that there was anything the matter with her, except that her face + was almost expressionless--as if she wasn't thinking of anything + at all. I can't describe it any other way. + + Well, there we sat, and at a given signal from the doctor outside + the door I was to begin--very, very quietly and softly--to play + the "Träumerei." You can just imagine how nervous I was--so much + depended on my doing just the right thing! My hands shook, and my + knees shook, and my heart thumped, and I thought I should never be + able even to hold the bow. It seemed an age before the doctor + raised his hand as a signal, but when he did I tucked the violin + under my chin and fairly prayed that I shouldn't make a failure of + my part, anyway! + + And I played the "Träumerei" through, the very best I could--and + nothing happened. Miss Cornelia went right on knitting and never + noticed it at all. Then the doctor made another signal, and I + began it again. This time she laid down her knitting, closed her + eyes, and leaned her head against the back of the chair. And when + I'd finished for the second time, what _do_ you suppose happened? + + She opened her eyes, looked over at Miss Alixe, and _spoke_, for + the first time in nearly thirty years! And this is what she said, + as simply and quietly as though all those thirty years had never + elapsed: + + [Illustration: "Sydney must have come in again; I hear him + practising!"] + + "Sydney must have come in again; I hear him practising!" + + Miss Alixe was so startled she looked ready to faint away. But she + managed to say, "No, Cornelia, but I'll tell you all about it." + Then the doctor in great excitement beckoned us all to come out of + the room quickly and leave her alone with Miss Alixe. So we + vanished, and the two were there together a long, long time. At + last Miss Alixe sent for Cecily, and she was gone a long time, + too. + + When it was all over, the doctor said it was the most successful + thing that had ever happened in all his experience. Miss Cornelia + is completely restored to memory and speech. And after the first + shock of learning all that had been blank to her for these past + years, she rallied well, and is now resting and recuperating under + the care of Miss Alixe and a trained nurse. She still finds it + very hard to realize all the changes that have happened in those + thirty years, and she grieves a great deal over the death of her + brother, which seems very recent and terrible to her. But she is + simply devoted to Cecily, and Cecily is growing almost as fond of + _her_ as she is of Miss Alixe. Next summer the whole family is + going with us to spend two months in Northam (Aunt Minerva's + doings again!) because it is so lovely and restful there. And + won't we have a wonderful summer together, Janet dear? I can + hardly wait for the time to come! + + Well, that is all the news I have to tell, and I guess you'll + agree with me that it certainly is enough--and very satisfying! + + One thing amuses me to pieces, Janet, every time I think of it. Do + you remember how, when you first came to visit us last summer, I + was explaining to you all I'd discovered about "Benedict's Folly" + and flattering myself with the idea that I, or, rather, you and I, + would work out the puzzle and solve the mystery--all by ourselves? + + What little geese we were! A lot we _did_ toward unraveling any of + that tangle! Even father and Major Goodrich were way off the + track. It took Aunt Minerva (the darling!) to walk right in and + clear the whole thing up! Here's "Hurrah!" then, for Aunt Minerva! + She certainly had the laugh on _us_! + + However, I sometimes console myself with the thought that it was + we (you and I) who first took an interest in that shuttered old + house in the garden. If we hadn't--who knows?--we would probably + never have met Cecily, and things would be just the same as ever + there, and Miss Alixe wouldn't have-- + + But what's the use of going into all that! The "girl next door" is + our own dearest friend now, and everything is all right. + + I just looked out of the window and saw a light in Cecily's room. + She's also writing to you to-night. We promised each other we both + would. I'm growing sleepy now, so good-night and heaps of love. + + MARCIA. + February 28, 1913. + + P. S. Did I tell you this before, I wonder? Cecily has both the + bracelets now. Aunt Minerva, of course insisted that she should. + She has put them safely away and will never part with them again. + But we take them out and look at them sometimes and think of all + the strange and awful adventures they've been through and the + curious chance that brought them together again. + + Always, after we've looked at them, Cecily asks me to play the + "Träumerei." And while I play, she sits very quietly and says + nothing, and her eyes have a far-away look. But I know what she is + thinking about! + + M. + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Girl Next Door, by Augusta Huiell Seaman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIRL NEXT DOOR *** + +***** This file should be named 39896-8.txt or 39896-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/8/9/39896/ + +Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Girl Next Door + +Author: Augusta Huiell Seaman + +Illustrator: C. M. Relyea + +Release Date: June 2, 2012 [EBook #39896] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIRL NEXT DOOR *** + + + + +Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;"> +<img src="images/ill_001.jpg" width="399" height="600" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h2>GIRL NEXT DOOR</h2> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 367px;"><a name="ILL_002" id="ILL_002"></a> +<img src="images/ill_002.jpg" width="367" height="500" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house opposite</span> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h2>GIRL NEXT DOOR</h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>AUGUSTA HUIELL SEAMAN</h2> + +<p class="center">Author of "The Sapphire Signet," "The</p> + +<p class="center">Boarded-Up House," etc.</p> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED BY</h3> + +<h3>C. M. RELYEA</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/ill_003.jpg" width="100" height="98" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h4>NEW YORK</h4> + +<h4>THE CENTURY CO.</h4> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1917, by</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Century Co</span>.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h4>TO</h4> + +<h4>HOA-SIAN-SI<sup>N</sup>-NÎU</h4> + +<p class="center">(Margaret Gillespie Fagg)</p> + +<h4>AND TO THE MEMORY OF</h4> + +<h4>HOA-SIAN-SI<sup>N</sup></h4> + +<p class="center">(John Gerardus Fagg, D.D.)</p> + +<h4>THIS BOOK IS</h4> + +<h4>AFFECTIONATELY</h4> + +<h4>DEDICATED</h4> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4" summary=""> +<tr><td align="right">I</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><span class="smcap">Marcia's Secret</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><span class="smcap">The Face Behind the Shutter</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><span class="smcap">The Gate Opens</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><span class="smcap">The Backward Glance</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><span class="smcap">The Handkerchief in the Window</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><span class="smcap">Cecily Reveals Herself</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><span class="smcap">Surprises All Around</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><span class="smcap">At the End of the String</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><span class="smcap">For the Sake of Cecily</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><span class="smcap">The Filigree Bracelet</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><span class="smcap">The Lifted Veil</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><span class="smcap">Miss Benedict Speaks</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><span class="smcap">Via Wireless</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><span class="smcap">The Writing on the Bracelets</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><span class="smcap">Puzzling it Out</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVI</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><span class="smcap">One Mystery Explained</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVII</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><span class="smcap">Major Goodrich Assists</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVIII</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><span class="smcap">The Major has a Further Inspiration</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIX</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><span class="smcap">The Unexpected</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XX</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><span class="smcap">Aunt Minerva Takes Command</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXI</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><span class="smcap">Six Months Later</span></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ILL_002">Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house opposite</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ILL_004">Cecily Marlowe passed them by without a look</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ILL_005">They heard Cecily's light footsteps</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ILL_006">"I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these shutters," cried Janet, suddenly</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ILL_007">In the sudden light of the open door she stood revealed</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ILL_008">"Words on two bracelets are identical," replied Lee Ching, precisely</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ILL_010">"Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life I lead"</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ILL_012">"Sydney must have come in again; I hear him practising!"</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE GIRL NEXT DOOR</h2> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></h2> + +<h3>MARCIA'S SECRET</h3> + +<p>"Marcia Brett, do you mean to tell me—"</p> + +<p>"Tell you—what?"</p> + +<p>"That you've had a secret two whole months and never told me about it +yet? And I'm your <i>best</i> friend!"</p> + +<p>"I was waiting till you came to the city, Janet. I wanted to <i>tell</i> you; +I didn't want to <i>write</i> it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've been in the city twelve hours, and you never said a word +about it till just now."</p> + +<p>"But, Janet, we've been sight-seeing ever since you arrived. You can't +very well tell secrets when you're sight-seeing, you know!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you might have given me a hint about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> it long ago. You know we've +solemnly promised never to have any secrets from each other, and yet +you've had one <i>two whole months</i>?"</p> + +<p>"No, Jan, I haven't had it quite as long as that. Honest! It didn't +begin till quite a while after I came; in fact, not till about three or +four weeks ago."</p> + +<p>"Tell me all about it right away, then, and perhaps I'll forgive you!"</p> + +<p>The two girls cuddled up close to each other on the low couch by the +open window and lowered their voices to a whisper. Through the warm +darkness of the June night came the hum of a great city, a subdued, +murmurous sound, strangely unfamiliar to one of the girls, who was in +the city for the first time in all her country life. To the other the +sound had some time since become an accustomed one. As they leaned their +elbows on the sill and, chins in hand, stared out into the darkness, +Marcia began:</p> + +<p>"Well, Jan, I might as well commence at the beginning, so you'll +understand how it all happened. I've been just crazy to tell you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> but +I'm not good at letter-writing, and there's such a lot to explain that I +thought I'd wait till your visit.</p> + +<p>"You know, when we first moved to this apartment, last April, from 'way +back in Northam, I was all excitement for a while just to be living in +the city. Everything was <i>so</i> different. Really, I acted so <i>silly</i>—you +wouldn't believe it! I used to run down to the front door half a dozen +times a day, just to push the bell and see the door open all by itself! +It seemed like something in a fairy-story. And for the longest while I +couldn't get used to the dumb-waiter or the steam-heat or the electric +lights, and all that sort of thing. It <i>is</i> awfully different from our +old-fashioned little Northam—now isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I feel just that way this minute," admitted Janet.</p> + +<p>"And then, too," went on Marcia, "there were all the things outside to +do and see—the trolleys and stores and parks and museums and the zoo! +Aunt Minerva said I went around 'like a distracted chicken' for a while! +And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> beside that, we used to have the greatest fun shopping for new +furniture and things for this apartment. Hardly a bit of that big old +furniture we brought with us would fit into it, these rooms are so much +smaller than the ones in our old farm-house.</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, for a while I was too busy and interested and excited to +think of another thing—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, too busy to even write to <i>me</i>!" interrupted Janet. "I had about +one letter in two weeks from you, those days. And you'd <i>promised</i> to +write every other day!"</p> + +<p>"Oh well, never mind that now! You'd have done the same, I guess. If you +don't let me go on, I'll never get to the <i>secret</i>! After a while, +though, I got used to all the new things, and I'd seen all the sights, +and Aunt Minerva had finished all the furnishing except the curtains and +draperies (she's at that, yet!), and all of a sudden everything fell +flat. I hadn't begun my music-lessons, and there didn't seem to be a +thing to do, or a single interest in life.</p> + +<p>"The truth is, Jan, I was frightfully lonesome—for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> <i>you</i>!" Here Marcia +felt her hand squeezed in the darkness. "Perhaps you don't realize it, +but living in an apartment in a big city is the <i>queerest</i> thing! You +don't know your neighbor that lives right across the hall. You don't +know a soul in the house. And as far as I can see, you're not likely to +if you lived here fifty years! Nobody calls on you as they do on a new +family in the country. Nobody seems to care a rap who you are, or +whether you live or die, or anything. And would you believe it, Janet, +there isn't another girl in this whole apartment, either older or +younger than myself! No one but grown-ups.</p> + +<p>"So you can see how awfully lonesome I've been. And as Aunt Minerva had +decided not to send me to high school till fall, I didn't have a chance +to get acquainted with any one of my own age. Actually, it got so I +didn't do much else but moon around and mark off the days till school in +Northam closed and you could come. And, oh, I'm <i>so</i> glad you're here +for the summer! Isn't it gorgeous!" She hugged her chum spasmodically.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But to go on. I'm telling you all this so you can see what led up to my +doing what I did about—the <i>secret</i>. It began one awfully rainy +afternoon last month. I'd been for a walk in the wet, just for exercise, +and when I came in, Aunt Minerva was out shopping. I hadn't a new book +to read nor a blessed thing to do, so I sat down right here by the +window and got to thinking and wondering <i>why</i> things were so unevenly +divided—why you, Jan, should have a mother and father and a big, jolly +lot of brothers and sisters, and I should be just <i>one</i>, all alone, +living with Aunt Minerva (though she's lovely to me), with no mother, +and a father away nearly all the time on his ship.</p> + +<p>"And it seemed as if I just hated this apartment, with its little rooms, +like cubbyholes, all in a row. I longed to be back in Northam. And +looking out of the window, I even thought I'd give anything to live in +that big, rambling, dingy, old place next door, beyond the brick wall, +for at least one could go up and down <i>stairs</i> to the different rooms.</p> + +<p>"And then, if you'll believe me, Jan, as I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> stared at that house it +began to dawn on me that I'd never really 'taken it in' before—that it +was a very strange-looking old place. And because I didn't have another +mortal thing to do, I just sat and stared at it as if I'd never seen it +before, and began to wonder and wonder about it. For there were a number +of things about it that seemed decidedly <i>queer</i>."</p> + +<p>"What's it like, anyway?" questioned Janet. "There were so many other +things to see to-day that I didn't notice it at all. And it's so dark +now I can't see a thing."</p> + +<p>"Why, it's a big, square, four-story brick house, and it's terribly in +need of paint. Looks as if it hadn't had a coat in years and years. It +stands 'way back from the street, in a sort of ragged, weedy garden, and +there's a high brick wall around the whole place, except for a heavy +wooden gate at the front covered with ironwork. That gate is always +closed. A stone walk runs from the gate to the front door. 'Way back at +the rear of the garden is an old brick stable that looks as if it hadn't +been opened or used in years.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You'll see all this yourself, Janet, when you look out of the window in +the morning. For this apartment-house runs along close to the brick +wall, and as we're three floors up, you get a good view of the whole +place. This window in my room is the <i>very</i> best place of all to see +it—fortunately.</p> + +<p>"But the queer thing about it is that, though the shutters are all +tightly closed or bowed,—every one!—and the whole place looks +deserted, it really <i>isn't</i>! There's some one living in it; and once in +a long while you happen to see signs of it. For instance, that very +afternoon I saw this: 'most all the shutters are tightly closed, but on +the second floor they are usually just bowed. And that day the slats in +one of them were open, and I thought I could see a muslin curtain +flapping behind it. But while I was looking, the fingers of a hand +suddenly appeared between the slats and snapped them shut with a jerk.</p> + +<p>"Of course, there's nothing so awfully strange about a thing like that, +<i>as a rule</i>, but somehow the way it was done seemed <i>mysterious</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> I +can't explain just why. Anyhow, as I hadn't anything else to do, I +concluded I'd sit there for a while longer and see if something else +would happen. But nothing did—not for nearly an hour; and I was getting +tired of the thing and just going to get up and go away <i>when</i>—"</p> + +<p>"<i>What?</i>" breathed Janet, in an excited whisper.</p> + +<p>"The big front door opened (it was nearly dark by that time) and out +crept the queerest little figure! It appeared to be a little old woman +all dressed in dingy black clothes that looked as if they must have come +out of the ark, they were so old-fashioned! Her hat was a queer little +bonnet, with no trimming except a heavy black veil that came down over +her face. She had a small market-basket on her arm, and a big old +umbrella.</p> + +<p>"But the queerest thing was the way she scuttled down the path to the +gate, like a frightened rabbit, turning her head from side to side, as +if she was afraid of being seen or watched. When she got to the gate, +she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> to put down her basket and umbrella and use both hands to +unlock it with a huge key. When she got outside of it, on the street, +she shut the gate behind her, and of course I couldn't see her any more.</p> + +<p>"Well, it set me to wondering and wondering what the story of that queer +old house and queer little old lady could be. It seemed as if there +<i>must</i> be some story about it, or some explanation; for, you see, it's a +big place, and evidently at one time must have been very handsome. And +it stands right here in one of the busiest and most valuable parts of +the city.</p> + +<p>"The more I thought of it, the more curious I grew. But the worst of it +was that I didn't know a soul who could tell me the least thing about +it. Aunt Minerva couldn't, of course, and I wasn't acquainted with +another person in the city. It just seemed as if I <i>must</i> find some +explanation. Then, all of a sudden, I thought of our new colored maid. +Perhaps she might have heard something about it. I made up my mind I'd +go right out to the kitchen. So I went and started her talking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> about +things in general and finally asked her if she knew anything about that +old house. And <i>then</i>—I wish you could have heard her! I can't tell it +all the way she did, but this is the substance of it:</p> + +<p>"It seems that she's discovered that the janitor here is the son of an +old friend from North Carolina. Of course she's been talking to him a +lot, and he has told her all about the whole neighborhood, and +especially about the queer old house next door. He says it's known all +around here as 'Benedict's Folly.'"</p> + +<p>"Why?" queried Janet.</p> + +<p>"Well, because years and years ago, when the owner built it (his name +was Benedict), it was 'way out of the city limits, and everybody thought +he was awfully foolish, going so far, and building a handsome city house +off in the wilderness. But he wasn't so foolish after all, for the city +came right up and surrounded him in the end, and the property is worth +no end of money now.</p> + +<p>"But here's the queer thing about it. Old Mr. Benedict's been dead many +years, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> place looks as if no one lived there—but <i>some one +does</i>! It's a daughter of his, a queer little old lady, who keeps +herself shut up there all the time; some think she's alone, others say +no, that some one else is there with her. No one seems to know +definitely. Anyhow, although she is very wealthy, she does all the work +herself, and the marketing; and she even carries home all the things, +and won't allow a single one of the tradesmen to come in.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Simmonds (that's our janitor) says that two years ago, in the +winter, a water-pipe there burst, and Miss Benedict just <i>had</i> to get a +plumber; and he afterward told awfully peculiar things about the way the +house looked,—the furniture all draped and covered up, and even the +pictures on the walls covered, too,—and not a single modern improvement +except the running water and some old-fashioned gas-fixtures. And the +little old lady never raised her veil while he was there, so he couldn't +see what she looked like.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Simmonds says every one thinks there is some great mystery about +'Benedict's Folly,'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> but no one seems to be able to guess what it can +be. Now, Janet, isn't that just fascinating? Think of living next door +to a mystery!"</p> + +<p>"It's simply thrilling!" sighed Janet. "But, Marcia, I still don't see +what this has to do with a <i>secret</i>. Where do <i>you</i> come in? I don't see +why you couldn't have written all this to me."</p> + +<p>"Wait!" said Marcia. "I haven't finished yet. That was absolutely all I +could get out of our maid Eliza, all she or any one else knew, in fact. +But as you can imagine, I couldn't get the thing out of my mind, and I +couldn't stop looking at the old place, either. I tried to talk to Aunt +Minerva about it, but she wasn't a bit interested. Said she couldn't +understand how any one could keep house in that slovenly fashion, and +that's all she would say. So I gave up trying to interest <i>her</i>.</p> + +<p>"Now, I must tell you the odd thing that happened that very night. You +know I've said it was raining hard all that day, and by ten o'clock the +wind was blowing a gale. I was just ready for bed, and had turned off +my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> light and raised the shade, when I thought I'd take another peep at +my mysterious mansion across the fence. All I could see, however, were +just some streaks of light through the chinks in the shutters in that +one room on the second floor. All the rest of the place was as dark as a +pocket. And as I sat staring out, it suddenly came to me what fun it +would be to try to unravel the whole mysterious affair all by myself. It +would certainly help me to pass the dull days till you came!</p> + +<p>"But then, too, the only way to do it would be to watch this old place +like a cat, and I knew <i>that</i> wouldn't be right. It would be too much +like spying into your neighbor's affairs, and, of course, that's horrid. +Finally, I concluded, that if I could do it without being meddlesome or +prying, I'd just watch the place a <i>little</i> and see if anything +interesting would happen. And while I was thinking this, a strange thing +<i>did</i> happen—that very minute!</p> + +<p>"The wind had grown terrific, and, all of a sudden, it just took one of +the shutters of that lighted room, and ripped it from its fastening,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +and threw it back against the wall. And the next moment a figure hurried +to the window, leaned out, and drew the shutter back in place again. But +just for one instant I had caught a glimpse of the whole inside of the +room! And what do you suppose I saw, Jan?"</p> + +<p>"<i>What?</i>" demanded Janet.</p> + +<p>"Well, not much of the furnishing, except a lighted oil-lamp on a table. +But, directly in the center of the room, in a perfectly enormous +armchair sat—a woman! And it wasn't the one I'd seen in the afternoon, +either. I'm sure of that. I couldn't see her face, for it was in shadow, +but she was looking down at something spread out on her lap. And she +held her right hand over it in the air and waved it back and forth, sort +of uncertainly. You can't imagine what a strange picture it was—and +then the shutter was closed. There was something so <i>weird</i> about it +all.</p> + +<p>"If I was curious before, I was simply <i>wild</i> with interest then. It +seemed as if I <i>must</i> know what it all meant—what that strange old lady +could be doing, sitting there in state in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> middle of the room, and +all the rest of it. You don't blame me, do you, Jan?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I don't! I'd be ten times worse, I guess. But what about the +<i>secret</i>? And <i>did</i> you find out anything else?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did. And that's the secret. The whole mysterious thing is in the +secret, because no one but you knows I'm the least interested in the +affair, and I don't want them to—now! I'll tell you what happened +next."</p> + +<p>But just at this moment they were interrupted by a knock at the door, +and a voice inquiring:</p> + +<p>"Girls, <i>girls</i>! haven't you gone to bed yet? I've heard you talking for +the last hour."</p> + +<p>"No, Aunt Minerva!" answered Marcia, "we are sitting by the window."</p> + +<p>"Well, you must go to bed <i>at once</i>! It's nearly midnight. You won't +either of you be fit for a thing to-morrow. Now, mind, not another word! +Good-night!"</p> + +<p>"Good-night!" they both answered, but heaved a sigh when Aunt Minerva +was out of hearing.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's no use!" whispered Marcia. "We'll have to stop for to-night. But +there's lots more, and the <i>most</i> interesting part of it, too. Well, +never mind, I'll tell you all the rest to-morrow!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></h2> + +<h3>THE FACE BEHIND THE SHUTTER</h3> + +<p>Janet had no sooner hopped out of bed next morning than she flew to the +window to examine "Benedict's Folly" by broad daylight. In the streaming +sun of a June morning the dingy old mansion certainly bore out the truth +of Marcia's mysterious description.</p> + +<p>"Gracious! I should think you would have been interested in it from the +first!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Interested in what?" yawned Marcia, sleepily, opening her eyes.</p> + +<p>"'Benedict's Folly,' of course! Let's see," went on Janet, who possessed +a very practical, orderly mind; "from your story last night it seems +there must be two people living there—but look here! how did you know, +Marcia, that it was another old lady you saw that night when the shutter +blew open?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, for several reasons," answered Marcia. "In the first place, the +one who goes out is short and slight. The one sitting in the chair was +evidently large, and rather stout, and—and different, somehow, although +I didn't see either of their faces. And then, it wasn't the lady in the +chair who closed the shutter. She evidently never moved. So it <i>must</i> +have been some one else."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it must have been," agreed Janet, convinced. "Queer that nobody +seems to know about the second one. I wonder who she is? And are there +any more? Go on with your story, Marcia."</p> + +<p>"No," said Marcia. "Wait till we can be by ourselves for a long while. I +don't want to be interrupted. Aunt Minerva's going out this morning, and +then we'll have a chance."</p> + +<p>So, later in the morning, the two girls sat by Marcia's window, each +occupied with a dainty bit of embroidery, and Marcia began anew:</p> + +<p>"Well, after that rainy night, for several days I didn't see a thing +more that was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> interesting about the old house or the queer people who +live in it. I used to watch once in a while to see if the little lady in +black would go out again in the afternoon, as she did before, but she +didn't. Then, a day or two later, I did something that surprised even +myself, for I hadn't the faintest <i>intention</i> of doing it. I had been +taking a walk that afternoon and was just coming home, passing on the +way the high brick wall of the Benedict house. It was just as I reached +the closed gate that an idea popped into my head.</p> + +<p>"You know, they say that no visitors are ever admitted, and no rings or +knocks at the gate are ever answered. Well, something suddenly prompted +me to ring that bell and see what would happen. I never stopped to ask +myself what I should say if some one came and inquired what I wanted. I +just rang it suddenly (and I had to pull hard, the old thing was so +rusty) and far away somewhere in the house I heard a faint tinkle.</p> + +<p>"Then I got kind of panic-stricken, wondering what I'd say if any one +did really come.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> But I needn't have worried, for what do you suppose +happened?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" answered Janet, promptly.</p> + +<p>"That's just where you're mistaken; but you'd never guess what it was. +About a minute after I'd rung the bell, I heard light footsteps on the +walk behind the gate. <i>But</i>, instead of coming <i>toward</i> the gate, they +were hurrying <i>away</i> from it; and in another minute I heard the front +door close. After that it was all quiet, and nothing else happened. Then +I went on home."</p> + +<p>"I know," interrupted Janet, whose quick mind had already worked out the +problem, "exactly what occurred. It was Miss Benedict, who had been just +about to come out on her way to do the marketing. And your ring +frightened her, and sent her hurrying back into the house. <i>Isn't</i> it +all singular!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that must have been it," agreed Marcia. "And it made me more +curious than ever to understand about it. And I was so annoyed at myself +for ringing at all. If I hadn't, I might have seen Miss Benedict close<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +by, when she came out of the gate. It served me right for doing such a +thing, anyhow!</p> + +<p>"But after that I got to watching, every time I went out, thinking I +might see her on the street somewhere, especially if it was about the +time she usually did her marketing—along toward dusk. Several days +passed, however, and I never did. I <i>had</i> thought of watching from my +window to see when she went out, and then following her. But that didn't +seem right, somehow. It would be too much like spying on her. So I just +concluded I'd trust to chance. And luck favored me at last, one morning, +about a week after I'd rung her bell.</p> + +<p>"It happened that the night before, Eliza suddenly discovered we were +all out of oatmeal for breakfast, and I promised her I'd get some very +early in the morning, when I went to take my walk. You know, I've found +that on these warm summer days in the city it's much pleasanter to take +a walk in the real early morning than to wait till later in the day, +when it's crowded and hot. And I always used to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> love walking in the +early morning, up in Northam.</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, I got up that day about six. I knew that no stores near +here would be open so early, and I decided to walk over toward the other +side of town. It's a sort of poor section there, and the stores often +open up quite early, so that folks can do their marketing before they go +to work. It was a beautiful, cool morning, and I was quite enjoying +myself when—Jan, <i>what</i> do you think?—I looked up, and about half a +block ahead of me was a little black figure with a market-basket, +hurrying along. I <i>knew</i> it was Miss Benedict!</p> + +<p>"Can you imagine my surprise—and delight? I suddenly made up my mind +I'd keep behind her, and go into the same store she did. There could +surely be no harm in <i>that</i>! And by and by I saw her turn into a little +grocery-shop; and a minute or two after in I walked, went to the +counter, and stood right near her. There was no one in the store beside +ourselves and the grocer. He looked sleepy, and was yawning while he +wrapped up something for her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> He asked me to 'Wait a minute, please!' +which, of course, I was only too delighted to do, as it gave me a +perfect right to stand close by my mysterious little neighbor and hear +her speak.</p> + +<p>"And it was right there, Janet, that I got the surprise of my life. She +still wore her black veil, and it was so thick that not a bit of her +face could be seen. Her dress was the most old-fashioned thing—it +looked twenty years old, if not more. I don't know what sort of a voice +I had expected to hear, but it was nothing in the least like what I +<i>did</i> hear.</p> + +<p>"I can't exactly describe it to you, Jan, but it was the most beautiful +<i>speaking</i> voice I've ever heard in my life! It was soft, and +flute-like, and so—so <i>appealing</i>! It somehow went straight to my +heart. It made me feel as if I wanted to take <i>care</i> of Miss Benedict, +somehow, I can't exactly explain it. Even when she was speaking of such +commonplace things as butter and eggs and sugar, it was like—like +<i>music</i>!</p> + +<p>"Well, in a few moments she had finished, and the grocer packed her +things in her basket,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> and she went away. I had to stay, of course, and +get my oatmeal, and I didn't see her again. But being so close to her +and hearing that lovely voice had changed my whole feeling about her. At +first, I had just been interested and awfully <i>curious</i> about the whole +mysterious affair, and, I'll confess, just a wee bit repelled by the +account of the queer little lady and the strange way she lived. I wanted +to know the explanation of the mystery, but I didn't particularly want +to know <i>her</i>. But after that, I felt different,—sort of bewitched by +that beautiful voice. I wanted to <i>help</i> that Miss Benedict. I wanted to +<i>do</i> something for her, or try to make her happier, or—or <i>something</i>, +I couldn't quite explain what. And I wanted—oh, so much!—to see her +<i>face</i>, and know what she was like, and more about <i>herself</i>. Can you +understand, Jan?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I can. But do go on. Did you ever meet her again?"</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't. But I've seen—and heard—something else that's strange, +more strange than all the rest!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell me, quick!" demanded Janet.</p> + +<p>"Two nights ago, I sat here by the window. It was too hot to turn on the +light, but it was very dark outside. Presently I heard footsteps in the +Benedict garden. They were light, quick footsteps, and sounded exactly +as if some one were running about, or skipping and jumping. First I +thought it must be a big dog, for it couldn't possibly have been either +one of those two old ladies, running and skipping that way! And then I +heard a soft humming, as if some one were singing a tune half under the +breath. And then, very soon after, a door opened, and a voice called +out, very softly, 'Come in, now!' And after that all was quiet. Now, +Janet McNeil, I'm simply positive there's <i>some one else</i> in that house +beside the two old ladies,—some one who hasn't been seen yet. What do +you make of it?"</p> + +<p>"You must be right," replied Janet, thoughtfully. "It <i>couldn't</i> be +either of them running about in the garden in the dark and humming a +tune. It isn't at all what they'd be likely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> to do. I think it must be +some one else, more—more <i>human</i> and natural, somehow. And younger, +too. But what on <i>earth</i> do they all keep so shut up for, and act as if +they were afraid to be seen! It's the queerest thing I ever heard of. +You certainly <i>have</i> moved next door to a 'dark-brown mystery,' Marcia!"</p> + +<p>For the ensuing hour the girls embroidered steadily and discussed +"Benedict's Folly" and its inmates in all their peculiar phases. But, +turn and twist it as they might, they could find no answer to the +riddle. After a while, Janet changed the subject.</p> + +<p>"By the way, Marcia, how are you coming on with your violin practice? +Have you begun taking lessons here yet? You know that was one of the +principal things you folks moved to the city for,—so that you could +study with the best teachers."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've begun with Professor Hardwick," said Marcia, "and I've +practised quite hard lately. It's about all I had to do. He says I've +made some progress already."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>do</i> get your violin and play some for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> me!" begged Janet. "I'm +just starving for some good music. I haven't heard any since you left +Northam."</p> + +<p>So Marcia obligingly went to the parlor and brought back her violin. +When she had tuned it and tucked it lovingly under her chin, she sat +down in the window-seat and ran her bow over the strings in a shower of +liquid melody. For one so young she played astonishingly well. Janet +listened, breathless, absorbed.</p> + +<p>"Marcia dear, you <i>have</i> improved!" she exclaimed, as her chum stopped +for a moment. "Now do play my favorite!" Marcia laid her bow on the +strings once more, and slipped into the tender reverie of the +"Träumerei." But before it was half finished, Janet, wide-eyed with +astonishment, laid her hand on Marcia's arm.</p> + +<p>"Look!" she breathed. Marcia followed the direction of her gaze, and +turned to stare out of the window at the house opposite. And this is +what she saw:</p> + +<p>The shutter of a window on the top floor had been pushed partly open, +and a face looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> out,—a face with big, appealing eyes, and a frame of +golden, curling hair falling all about it. Straight over at the two in +the window it gazed, eager, absorbed, delighted. And then suddenly, as +it detected their own interested stare, it withdrew, and the shutter was +softly closed.</p> + +<p>The two girls drew a long breath and gazed at each other.</p> + +<p>"Janet,—<i>what</i> did I tell you! There <i>is</i> some one else in that house!" +cried Marcia.</p> + +<p>"I guess you're right!" admitted Janet, quieter, but no less excited. +"But do you realize who that third person <i>is</i>, Marcia Brett? It isn't +an old lady; it's some one just about our own age—it's a young +<i>girl</i>!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></h2> + +<h3>THE GATE OPENS</h3> + +<p>For the two ensuing days, Marcia and Janet, tense with excitement, +discussed the most recently discovered inmate of "Benedict's Folly," and +watched incessantly for another glimpse of the face behind the shutter. +How was it, they constantly demanded of each other, that a girl of +fourteen or fifteen had come to be shut up in the dreary old place? Was +she a prisoner there? Was she a relative, friend, or servant? Was she +free to come and go?</p> + +<p>To the latter question they unanimously voted "No!" How could she be +aught else but a prisoner when she was never seen going in or out, was +forced to take her exercise after nightfall in the dark garden, and was +kept constantly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> behind closed shutters? No girl of that age in her +right mind could deliberately <i>choose</i> a life like that!</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose she has always lived there?" queried Marcia, for the +twentieth time. And as Janet could answer it no better than herself, she +propounded another question:</p> + +<p>"And why do you suppose she opened the shutter and looked out, seeming +so delighted, when I played, and then drew in again so quickly when we +noticed her? Is <i>she</i> afraid of being seen, too?"</p> + +<p>"Evidently," said Janet. "She must be as full of mystery as the rest of +them. And yet—I <i>can't</i>, somehow, feel that she <i>is</i> like them; she's +so sweet and young and—oh, <i>you</i> know what I mean!"</p> + +<p>Of course she knew, but it didn't help them in the least to solve this +latest phase of their mystery. Finally Marcia, who still clung a bit +shyly to the fairy lore of her earlier years, declared:</p> + +<p>"I believe she's a regular <i>Cinderella</i>, kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> there to do all the hard +work of the place by those queer old ladies, and I shouldn't be a bit +surprised if she's down in the kitchen this minute, cleaning out the +ashes of the stove! Come, Jan, let's go for a walk, and when we come +back I'll play on the violin by the window. Maybe our little +<i>Cinderella</i> will peep out again!"</p> + +<p>The two girls put on their hats and strolled out for their usual +afternoon walk and treat of ice-cream soda. But they had gone no farther +from their own door than the length of the Benedict brick wall when they +were suddenly brought to a halt in front of the closed gate by hearing a +sound on the other side of it. It was a sound indicative of some one's +struggling attempt to open it—the click of a key turning and turning in +the lock and the futile rattling of the iron knob. And then the sound of +a voice murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! What <i>shall</i> I do? I can't get this open!"</p> + +<p>"Janet," whispered Marcia, "that's <i>not</i> the voice of Miss Benedict! I +<i>know</i> it! I believe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> it's <i>Cinderella</i>, and she's trying to run away! +What shall we do—stay here?"</p> + +<p>"No," Janet whispered back. "Let's just stroll on a little way, and then +turn back. We can see what happens then without seeming to be watching."</p> + +<p>They walked on quickly for a number of yards, and then turned to +approach the gate again. Even as they did so they saw it open, and out +stepped a little figure.</p> + +<p>It was not Miss Benedict! The slim, trim little girlish form was clad in +plain dark clothes of a slightly unfamiliar cut. But the face was the +one that had appeared in the upper window, and the thick golden curls +were surmounted by a black velvet tam-o'-shanter. On her arm she carried +a small market-basket, and her eyes had a bewildered, almost frightened, +look.</p> + +<p>In their excited interest Marcia and Janet had, quite unconsciously, +stopped short where they were and waited to see which way their +<i>Cinderella</i> would turn. But though they stood so for an appreciable +moment, she turned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> neither way, and only stood, her back to the gate, +gazing uncertainly to the right and left. And then, perceiving them, she +seemed to take a sudden resolution, and turned to them appealingly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, <i>could</i> you direct me how to find this?" she asked, holding +out a slip of paper. Marcia hurried to her side and read the written +address. And when she had read it, she realized that it was the little +grocery-shop on the other side of town where she had once encountered +Miss Benedict.</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly!" she cried. "You walk over five blocks in that +direction, then turn to your left and down three. You can't miss it; +it's right next to a shoemaker's place."</p> + +<p>The child looked more bewildered than ever, and her eyes strayed to the +busy street-crossing near which they stood, crowded with hurrying trucks +and automobiles.</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" she faltered. "Do I go this way?" And then, with sudden +candor, "You see, I'm strange in these streets." Her voice was clear and +pretty, but her accent markedly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> un-American. Both girls half +consciously noted it.</p> + +<p>"See here," said Marcia; "would you care to have us take you there? +We're not going in any special direction, and I've been there before."</p> + +<p>An infinitely relieved expression came over the girl's face. "Oh, +<i>would</i> you be so kind? I'm just—just scared to death on these +streets!"</p> + +<p>They turned to accompany her, one on each side, and piloted her safely +across the busy avenue. Then, in the quiet stretch of the next block, +they proceeded together in complete and embarrassing silence.</p> + +<p>It was a silence that Marcia and Janet had fully expected their +companion to break—possibly to reveal some reason for her errand and +her strangeness in the streets. They themselves hesitated to say much, +for fear of seeming curious or anxious to force her confidence. But she +said not a word. The strain at last became too much for Janet.</p> + +<p>"I don't blame you for feeling nervous in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> these city streets," she +began. "I'm a country girl myself, and I act like a scared rabbit +whenever I go out alone here." The girl turned to her with a little +confiding gesture.</p> + +<p>"I've never been out in them alone before," she said. Then there was +another silence during which Marcia and Janet both searched frantically +in their minds for something else to say. But it was the girl herself +who broke the silence the second time.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your music the other day," she said, turning to Marcia. +"I heard you. I often hear you and listen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad you liked it!" cried Marcia. "Do you care for music?"</p> + +<p>"I adore it," she replied simply.</p> + +<p>"Look here!" exclaimed Marcia, suddenly; "how did you know it was I that +played the violin?"</p> + +<p>"Because I've watched you often—through the slats!"</p> + +<p>Marcia and Janet exchanged glances. So the watching was not all on +<i>their</i> side of the fence! Here was a revelation!</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That last thing you played the other day—will you—will you tell me +what it was?" went on their new companion, shyly.</p> + +<p>"Why, that was Schumann's 'Träumerei,'" answered Marcia. "I love it, +don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes but I never heard it before; that is, I never <i>remember</i> hearing +it, and yet—somehow I seemed to <i>know</i> it. I can't think why. I don't +understand. It's as if I'd <i>dreamed</i> it, I think."</p> + +<p>Marcia and Janet again exchanged glances. What a strange child this was, +who talked of having "dreamed" music that was quite familiar to almost +every one.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you heard it at a concert," suggested Janet.</p> + +<p>"I never went to a concert," she replied, much to their amazement. And +then, perceiving their surprise, she added:</p> + +<p>"You see, I've always lived 'way off in the country, in just a little +village—till now."</p> + +<p>"Oh—yes," answered Janet, pretending enlightenment, though in truth she +and Marcia were more bewildered than ever.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>But by this time they had reached the little grocery-shop, and all +proceeded inside while their new friend made her purchases. These she +read off slowly from a slip of paper, and the grocer packed them in her +basket. But when it came to paying for them and making change, she +became entangled in a fresh puzzle.</p> + +<p>"I think you said these eggs were a shilling?" she ventured to the +grocer.</p> + +<p>"Shilling—no! I said they were a quarter," he retorted impatiently.</p> + +<p>"A quarter?" she queried, and turned questioning eyes to her two +friends.</p> + +<p>"He means this," said Marcia, picking out a twenty-five-cent piece from +the change the girl held.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you! I don't understand this American money," she explained. +And Marcia and Janet added another query to their rapidly growing mental +list.</p> + +<p>On the way back home, however, she grew silent again, and though the +girls chatted back and forth about quite impersonal matters,—the +crowded streets, the warm weather, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> sights they passed,—she was not +to be drawn into the conversation. And the nearer they drew to their +destination, the more depressed she appeared to become. At last they +reached the gate.</p> + +<p>"Shall you be going out again to-morrow?" ventured Marcia. "If so, we +will go with you, if you care to have us, till you get used to the +streets."</p> + +<p>The girl gave her a sudden, pleased glance. "I—I don't know," she said. +"You see, Miss Benedict hurt her ankle a day or two ago, and she can't +get around much, so—so I'm doing this for her. If she wants me to go +to-morrow, I will. I'd be <i>so</i> glad to go with you. How shall I let you +know?"</p> + +<p>"Just hang a white handkerchief to your shutter before you go, and we'll +see it. We'll watch for it!" cried Marcia, inventing the signal on the +spur of the moment. And then, impetuously, she added:</p> + +<p>"My name is Marcia Brett, and this is Janet McNeil. Won't you tell us +yours, if we're to be friends?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm Cecily Marlowe," she answered, "and I'm <i>so</i> glad to know you." As +she spoke she was fumbling with the big key in the lock of the gate, and +as the latter swung open, she turned once more to face them, with a +little pent-up sob: "I don't know why I'm here—and I'm <i>so</i> lonely!" +Then, frightened at having revealed so much, she turned quickly away and +shut the gate.</p> + +<p>As they listened to her footsteps retreating up the path and the closing +of the front door Marcia and Janet turned to each other, a thousand +questions burning on their tongues. But all they could exclaim in one +breath was:</p> + +<p>"Did you <i>ever</i>!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></h2> + +<h3>THE BACKWARD GLANCE</h3> + +<p>The next twenty-four hours were spent in delightful speculation. So her +name was Cecily Marlowe! Was she any relation of Miss Benedict? +"Marlowe" and "Benedict" were certainly dissimilar enough.</p> + +<p>"But then she might be a relation on Miss Benedict's mother's side," +suggested Marcia.</p> + +<p>"Does it sound likely when you think what she said just at the +last—that she didn't know why she was there?" replied Janet, +scornfully. "She couldn't be in doubt about it if she were a <i>relation</i>, +either come on a visit or there to stay!" Which argument settled <i>that</i> +question.</p> + +<p>"But where do you suppose she has come from?" marveled Marcia. "She said +she'd always lived in a little country village, and she didn't know a +thing about American money. She's foreign—that's certain. Even her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +clothes and her way of speaking show it. But from where?"</p> + +<p>"Did you notice that she said 'shilling'?" suggested Janet. "That shows +she must be English. She <i>looks</i> English. Now will you tell me how she +could get 'way over here from England and not know why she had come?"</p> + +<p>"It sounds as if she might have been kidnapped," said Marcia. "Why, +Janet! this is precisely like a mystery in a book. Do you <i>realize</i> it? +And here we are living right next door to it! It's too good to be true!"</p> + +<p>Janet's mind had, however, gone off on another tack. "I can't understand +that remark she made about the music. 'Träumerei' is certainly about as +well known as any piece of classic music. She said she never remembered +hearing it, and yet it seems somehow familiar to her. Can you make +anything out of <i>that</i>?"</p> + +<p>Marcia couldn't. "Maybe it's all just a notion," she suggested +helplessly. "Suppose I play some on the violin here in our window right +now. She seems to enjoy it so. And maybe she'll open her shutter +again."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p>So they sat on the window-seat, and Marcia played her very best, +including the "Träumerei," but no golden head appeared from behind the +shutter that afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," said Janet. "We'll see her to-morrow, most likely. Perhaps +she's busy downstairs now."</p> + +<p>"But isn't she the prettiest little thing!" mused Marcia, reminiscently. +"The loveliest big blue eyes, and curly golden hair, and such a +<i>trusting</i> look in her face, somehow! It went right down to the very +bottom of my heart, if it doesn't sound silly to put it that way."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," agreed Janet. "I felt the same way. But doesn't it strike +you queer that—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the whole thing's queer!" interrupted Marcia. "The queerest I ever +heard of. I guess you agree with me now, Janet, that I had a secret +worth talking about in 'Benedict's Folly.' But let's wait till to-morrow +and see what happens."</p> + +<p>The morrow came and went, however, and nothing happened at all. Hour +after hour the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> two girls watched for the signal of the white +handkerchief, but every shuttered window of the old mansion remained +blank. Neither did any one go in or out of the gate. Late in the +afternoon Marcia played again at the window, but the sweetest music +called forth not a single sign from behind the walls of the house next +door. Janet had but one solution to offer.</p> + +<p>"They probably didn't need any marketing done to-day, so she naturally +didn't go out."</p> + +<p>"But why couldn't she have at least looked out a moment from her +window?" cried Marcia, disconsolately. "Surely that would have been easy +to do, when she said she cared so much for the music. She must have +<i>known</i> I was playing just for her!"</p> + +<p>"She may have been somewhere in the house where she couldn't. You can't +tell, and oughtn't to blame her without knowing," declared Janet, +defending the conduct of the mysterious Cecily. "To-morrow we'll see her +again, no doubt."</p> + +<p>On the morrow her prophecy was fulfilled. They did see her again, but +under circumstances<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> so peculiar that they were quite dumfounded.</p> + +<p>All the morning they watched and waited in vain for some signal from the +upper window. But none came. And the main part of the afternoon passed +in precisely the same way. They sat very conspicuously in their own +window-seat, so that there could be no doubt in Cecily's mind about +their being at home. Marcia even did a little violin practice while they +waited. And still there was no sign. Suddenly, about five o'clock, Janet +clutched at her chum's arm.</p> + +<p>"Look!" she cried.</p> + +<p>Marcia looked, and down the path from the front door of the strange +house she saw Cecily, dressed to go out, approaching the gate. It was +plain that she was bound on another marketing expedition for the basket +hung from her arm.</p> + +<p>"<i>Well!</i> what do you make of that!" exclaimed Marcia in bewilderment. +"Did she signal to us?"</p> + +<p>"No, she didn't," returned Janet. "I've<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> watched every minute. She +<i>couldn't</i> have forgotten it. But, do you know, there may be some very +good reason why she didn't—or couldn't—and perhaps she's hoping we'll +see her, and be on hand outside, anyway, as we promised."</p> + +<p>"But she <i>must</i> have seen us sitting in the window," argued Marcia. "She +might at least have looked up and waved her hand, or nodded, or +smiled—or something!"</p> + +<p>Cecily, meanwhile, was fumbling with the lock of the big old gate, which +seemed, as on a former occasion, to give her a great deal of trouble.</p> + +<p>"Come," cried Janet to Marcia. "We'll just about have time to catch her +if we hurry." And seizing their hats, the girls hastened downstairs. +Their front door closed behind them just as Cecily came abreast of them. +What happened next was like a blow in the face!</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 294px;"><a name="ILL_004" id="ILL_004"></a> +<img src="images/ill_004.jpg" width="294" height="400" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">Cecily Marlowe passed them by without a look</span> +</div> + +<p>They had started forward, each with a friendly smile, expecting their +new companion to meet them in similar fashion. To their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a><br /><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a><br /><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> amazement, +Cecily Marlowe, after the first sudden look into their faces, dropped +her eyes, and passed them by without a glance, precisely as if they were +utter strangers to her.</p> + +<p>Both girls gasped, stared at her departing figure till she turned the +corner, and then into each other's faces.</p> + +<p>"The ungrateful little thing!" Marcia presently exploded. "If that +wasn't the 'cut direct,' I've never seen it before!"</p> + +<p>"An unmistakable way of telling us to mind our own business!" even Janet +had to admit. "How humiliating! And yet—"</p> + +<p>"Yet—what?" demanded Marcia, indignantly. "You're surely not going to +try to excuse such inexcusable conduct as <i>that</i>! I see very plainly +what's happened. She's thought it over and decided that we were +meddlesome and just trying to <i>push</i> an acquaintance with her, and she +thinks she's a little too exclusive for that kind of thing, and the +simple remedy was to 'cut us dead'!" Marcia was quite out of breath when +she finished this summing up.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It <i>does</i> look like it," Janet admitted. "But somehow, even yet, I +can't feel that she <i>wanted</i> to do it—of her own accord, I mean."</p> + +<p>But Marcia couldn't see it in that light. They discussed the question +hotly, still standing on the front stoop of the apartment. So long, in +fact, did they argue it back and forth, turning and twisting the sorry +little occurrence, viewing it in every possible light, that before they +realized it, Cecily was returning, her errands accomplished. How she had +managed to find her way and cross the streets in safety, they could only +conjecture.</p> + +<p>To reach her own gate, she had to pass directly by where they were +standing, and they saw her approaching down the block.</p> + +<p>"Here she comes," muttered Marcia. "Now, let's stand right here and +watch her as she goes by. She can't <i>help</i> but see us. We'll give her +one more chance to do the proper thing."</p> + +<p>And so they waited, breathless, expectant, while the girl came rapidly +on, her eyes cast down, watching the pavement. But even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> when she was +quite in front of them, she did not once look up, and without comment +their gaze followed her retreating figure to the gate.</p> + +<p>As she fitted the big key and swung the gate open, they were just about +to turn to each other in angry impatience when something else happened.</p> + +<p>Cecily Marlowe turned her head and looked back at them for one long, +tense moment. It was such a wistful, imploring look, a gaze so full of +appeal for forgiveness, so plainly in contrast with her recent conduct, +that their hearts melted at once.</p> + +<p>Simultaneously they waved their hands and smiled at her, and she smiled +back in return, the most adorable little smile in the world, full of +trust and confidence and utter friendliness.</p> + +<p>Then she hurried in and closed the gate, leaving her two new friends +outside more bewildered than ever.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></h2> + +<h3>THE HANDKERCHIEF IN THE WINDOW</h3> + +<p>The next day was spent by the two girls in an expedition to one of the +near-by ocean beaches with Aunt Minerva. Under ordinary circumstances it +was a treat that would have delighted their hearts. But, as matters +stood, they only chafed with impatience to be back at their bedroom +window, watching the house next door. The date for the trip, however, +had been set some time before, and Aunt Minerva would have thought it +very strange if they had begged off, for such flimsy reason as they +could have offered.</p> + +<p>The day after found them again on watch, though what they expected to +see they couldn't have told. It was plain that, in spite of appearances, +Cecily Marlowe's friendly feeling toward them was undiminished. The +charming backward smile had indicated <i>that</i> unmistakably.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> But how to +make it fit in with her refusal to signal and her forbidding conduct +they could not understand, and the mystery kept them in a constant +ferment of surmise.</p> + +<p>But even as they sat discussing it next morning, their fancy-work lying +unheeded in their laps, they looked out suddenly with a simultaneous +gasp of astonishment and delight. There was a tiny white handkerchief +attached to the shutter in the upper window and fluttering in the +breeze!</p> + +<p>"It's the signal—our signal!" cried Marcia. "Now what shall we +do?—show that we've seen it by waving something? Here's my red silk +scarf."</p> + +<p>"No," decided Janet. "Perhaps she'd rather not have us do anything that +might attract attention. Let's go right down to the street, as we said +we would, and see if she's there."</p> + +<p>They lost not a moment's time in reaching their front steps. But there +was no sign of Cecily till they had come abreast of the Benedict<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> gate. +This they discovered ajar, and two blue eyes peeping out of a narrow +crack. As they came in sight, there was a smothered exclamation, "Oh! +I'm so glad!" The gate opened wider, and Cecily stood before them.</p> + +<p>"You are <i>so</i> good!" she began at once, in a low voice, stretching out +both hands to them. "I was afraid you—you wouldn't come. I left the +signal there almost all day yesterday—"</p> + +<p>"We were away!" cried Marcia, promptly. "I'm <i>so</i> sorry. We went—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, then—oh, it's all right!" breathed Cecily, in relief. "I was sure +you were angry at—at the way—I acted."</p> + +<p>It was on the tip of Marcia's tongue to demand why she <i>had</i> acted so, +but she refrained. And Cecily hurried on:</p> + +<p>"I—I just had to signal for you. I—we are in great trouble—and I +don't know what to do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what <i>is</i> it?" cried both girls together.</p> + +<p>"Miss—Miss Benedict is very ill," she continued hesitatingly. "She—she +fell and hurt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> her ankle the other day, and—it's been getting worse +ever since. She's in bed—suffering great pain both yesterday and +to-day. It's terribly swelled—"</p> + +<p>"But why doesn't she send for a doctor?" interrupted Janet, hastily. +"She <i>ought</i> to have one if it's as bad as that."</p> + +<p>"I asked her that, too, yesterday, and she only said: 'No, no! I cannot, +must not have a doctor, child!' And when I asked what I could do for +her, she answered, 'I don't know, I'm sure!' So there she lies—just +suffering. And—and I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I +signaled to you. You are my only friends—in all this city!"</p> + +<p>There was something infinitely pathetic about the way she brought out +this last statement. It touched the hearts of both her listeners, and +because of it they inwardly forgave her, once and for all, for any +action of hers that had offended them. And they had the good sense not +to comment on the strangeness of Miss Benedict's behavior.</p> + +<p>"Well, if she won't have a doctor, we must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> think what else there is to +be done," began Janet, practically.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd let me bring Aunt Minerva in to see her," said Marcia. +"She hurt her ankle just like that, two years ago, and she'd know +exactly what—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no!" cried Cecily, starting forward. "Miss Benedict would not +want that—does not want to see any one. Please—<i>please</i> do not even +<i>mention</i> to your aunt anything about her—or me! Miss Benedict would +not wish it."</p> + +<p>The request was certainly very peculiar, but the girls were able to +conceal their surprise, great as it was. "Very well," said Marcia, +soothingly. "If you'd rather have it that way, we certainly won't speak +of it. But I've just had another idea. I remember Aunt Minerva had a +certain kind of salve that she used for her ankle, and she kept it +tightly bandaged on. It did her lots of good—cured her, in fact. Now I +believe I could get that salve at a drug-store here—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>could</i> you?" exclaimed Cecily, in immense relief. "Let us go at +once."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But you needn't trouble to go," said Marcia. "We won't be ten minutes +and will come right back with it."</p> + +<p>"I prefer to go," replied Cecily Marlowe, with such an air of quiet +finality that neither dared to question it. All three started out, after +Cecily had locked the gate, and proceeded to the nearest drug-store. +Here Marcia made the purchase, and paid for it from the change in her +own hand-bag. But when they were outside the store Cecily turned to her +gravely:</p> + +<p>"I have a little English money of my own, but I did not like to offer it +in the shop. If you will—will tell me how much the salve cost—in +shillings—I will give it to you." And she held out several English +shillings to Marcia.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't do that! I'm glad to be able to think of something to +do for Miss Benedict. It's such a little matter—"</p> + +<p>"Please!" reiterated Cecily. "I wish to tell her I bought it myself."</p> + +<p>"Why?" cried Marcia, and then the next moment wished she could recall a +question that seemed to border on the personal.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because I—I dare not tell her I have—have been talking to you!" +hesitated Cecily, in an unusual burst of candor. And after that +revelation they all walked back to the gate in an uneasy silence.</p> + +<p>When they stood again in front of the blank barrier to the mysterious +house, Cecily turned to Marcia.</p> + +<p>"I love your music," she said. "I always listen to it whenever you play. +I knew you had been playing—just for me—these last few days, and I +wanted to look out of my window and—and wave to you, but—I must not. I +am always there when you play—listening. I wanted you to know it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried Marcia, delightedly. "I <i>hoped</i> it would please +you. I'll play more than ever now. I'll do all my practising there, +too."</p> + +<p>"Cecily," said Janet, abruptly, venturing on personal ground for the +first time, "you are very lonely there, in that big house, with no other +young folks, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Cecily, speaking very low,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> and glancing in an uncertain +way at the gate.</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't you ask—er—Miss Benedict, if you couldn't run in and +visit us once in a while, or go out for a walk with us sometimes? Surely +she wouldn't object to that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no!" cried Cecily, hastily. "I'd—oh, <i>how</i> I'd love to, +but—but—it wouldn't do,—it wouldn't be allowed! No, I must not." +There was nothing more to be said.</p> + +<p>"At least, then," added Marcia, "you'll let us know if you need anything +else—you'll signal to us?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Cecily, "I'll do that." She got out the key, and unlocked +the gate. Then she faced them with a sudden, passionate sob.</p> + +<p>"You are so wonderfully good to me! I love you—both! You're all I have +to—care for!"</p> + +<p>Then the gate was shut, and they heard her footsteps fleeing up the +pathway.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></h2> + +<h3>CECILY REVEALS HERSELF</h3> + +<p>That night the two girls held a council of war.</p> + +<p>"It's perfectly plain to me," said Marcia, "that that poor little thing +is right under Miss Benedict's thumb. I think the way she's treated is +scandalous—not allowed to go out, or speak to, or associate with, any +one! And scared out of her wits all the time, evidently. What on earth +is she there for, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>Janet scorned to reply to the old, unanswerable question. Instead she +remarked:</p> + +<p>"She's breaking her heart about it, too. I can see that. And, Marcia, +wasn't it strange—what she said just at the last—that she loved us, +and that we were all she had to care for! Where <i>can</i> all her relatives +and family be? Miss Benedict certainly can't be a relative, for Cecily +calls her 'Miss.' To think of that lovely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> little thing without a soul +to care for her—except ourselves. Why, Marcia, it's—it's amazing! But +the main question now is what are we going to do about it? We <i>must</i> +help her somehow!"</p> + +<p>"I know what <i>I'm</i> going to do about it," replied Marcia, decisively. +"I'm going to tell Aunt Minerva about it, and see if she can't—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," Janet reminded her. "You forget that Cecily fairly +begged us not to mention anything about her to any one."</p> + +<p>"That's so," said Marcia, looking blank. "What <i>are</i> we going to do +then?"</p> + +<p>"There's only one thing I can think of," answered Janet, slowly. "Miss +Benedict may forbid Cecily to meet or speak to <i>us</i>, but she can't +forbid us meeting and speaking to Cecily, can she? So why can't we just +watch for Cecily to come out, and then go and join her? She can't stop +us—she can't help herself; and between you and me, I think she'll be +only too delighted!"</p> + +<p>"Good enough!" laughed Marcia. "But what an ogre that Miss Benedict must +be!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> I'm horribly disappointed about her. After I heard her speak that +time I was sure she must be lovely. It doesn't seem possible that any +one with such a wonderful, sympathetic voice could be so—so downright +hateful to a dear little thing like Cecily."</p> + +<p>"I must say it seems just horrid!" cried Janet, vehemently.</p> + +<p>That night, after darkness had fallen, the two girls, settling +themselves without a light at their open window, heard, as Marcia had +once before described, the sound of running feet in the garden beyond +the wall. This time there was no doubt in their minds about it. It was +certainly Cecily, taking a little exercise, probably on the deserted +path.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why she <i>runs</i>," marveled Marcia. "<i>I</i> shouldn't feel like +running around there all by myself."</p> + +<p>"I think I can understand, though," added Janet. "She's cooped up all +day in that dreary old place, and probably has to keep awfully quiet. +I'd go crazy if I were shut in like that. I'd feel like—like jumping +hurdles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> when I got out of doors. And she's a country girl, too, +remember. Get your violin, Marcia, and play something. I know it will +comfort her to know we're near by and thinking of her."</p> + +<p>So Marcia brought her violin, and out into the darkness of the night +floated the dreamy, tender melody of the "Träumerei." The romance of the +situation appealed to her, and she played it as she never had before.</p> + +<p>At the first notes the running footsteps ceased, and there was silence +in the garden. When the music ended, they thought they could distinguish +a soft little sound, half sigh, half sob, from the velvet blackness +below; but they could not be sure. And a little later came the click of +a closing door.</p> + +<p>Marcia put down her violin. "The lonely, lonely little thing!" she +exclaimed, half under her breath.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>For two days thereafter they maintained a constant, but fruitless, vigil +over "Benedict's Folly." Cecily did not appear, either at her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> window or +on a marketing expedition. Neither was there any sound of her footsteps +in the garden at night.</p> + +<p>The girls began to worry. Could it be that Miss Benedict had discovered +the truth about the remedy for her sprained ankle and had, perhaps, shut +Cecily up in close confinement, or even sent her away altogether? They +were by this time at a loss as to just what to think of that mysterious +lady.</p> + +<p>On the third afternoon, however, to their intense relief, they saw +Cecily emerge from the house and walk toward the gate, with the +market-basket on her arm. It took them just about a minute and a half to +reach the street.</p> + +<p>Cecily came abreast of their own door-step in due time, her eyes cast +down as usual; but they were waiting in the vestibule, and she did not +see them.</p> + +<p>She was well in advance, but still in sight, when they came down the +steps and strolled in the same direction. It was not till they had +turned the corner that they raced after her, and at last, breathless, +caught up with her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh!" she exclaimed, with a little start; "I—I did not expect to see +you to-day. I—you mustn't come with me!" In spite of her words, +however, it was evident that she was really delighted by their +unexpected appearance.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Cecily," began Marcia, "why can't we join you when you go to +market or are doing your errands?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that would be lovely!" answered Cecily—"only Miss Benedict usually +asks me when I come in whether I have met or spoken to any one, and—I +can't tell what isn't true!"</p> + +<p>Here was a poser! The girls looked crestfallen.</p> + +<p>"No—you can't, of course," hesitated Janet.</p> + +<p>"And besides that," went on Cecily, "this is the last time I shall go, +anyhow, because she's very much better now,—the salve helped her ankle +very much,—and she says she's going out herself after this. I don't +expect to get out again."</p> + +<p>There was a moment of horrified silence after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> this blow. Then Janet, no +longer able to endure the bewilderment, burst out:</p> + +<p>"Cecily dear, please forgive us if we seem to be prying into your +affairs. It's only because we think so much of you. But who <i>is</i> Miss +Benedict, and what is she to you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know!" said Cecily slowly.</p> + +<p>"You <i>don't know</i>!" they gasped in chorus.</p> + +<p>"No, I really don't. It must seem very strange to you, and it does to +me. Miss Benedict is a perfect stranger to me, and no relation, so far +as I know. I never saw or heard of her before I came here."</p> + +<p>"But why <i>are</i> you here then?" demanded Marcia.</p> + +<p>"I—don't know. It's all a mystery to me. But I'm so lonely I've cried +myself to sleep many a night."</p> + +<p>"Won't you tell us all about it?" begged Marcia. "We're your friends, +Cecily,—you say the only ones you have,—and we don't ask just out of +curiosity, but because we're interested in you, and—and love you."</p> + +<p>"Well, I will then," agreed the girl, as they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> walked along. "I'll just +tell you how it all happened. Ever since I can remember anything, I've +lived in Cranby, a little village in England. Mother and I lived there +together. We never went anywhere, not even up to London, because she was +never very strong. Father was dead; he died when I was a tiny baby, she +told me. We just had a happy, quiet life together, we two.</p> + +<p>"Well, about the beginning of this year, Mother was suddenly taken very, +very ill. I don't know what was the matter, but I hardly had time to +call in a neighbor and then bring the doctor." Cecily paused and choked +down a rising sob.</p> + +<p>"She—she just slipped away before we knew it," she went on, very low. +Marcia pressed her hand in wordless sympathy. Presently Cecily +continued:</p> + +<p>"Afterward, the neighbor, Mrs. Waddington, told me that while I was +fetching the doctor Mother had begged her to see that, if she didn't +recover, I should be taken over to New York, and left with a family +named Benedict,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> and she had Mrs. Waddington write down the address. But +just then Mother grew so much worse that she couldn't explain why I was +to be taken there, or what they were to me or I to them. After it was +all over we searched everywhere, hoping to find some papers or letters +or something that would tell, but we found nothing. So Mrs. Waddington +kept me with her for two or three months. Then a friend of hers, a Mrs. +Bidwell, was going to the States, and it was arranged that I should go +in her care. About two weeks before we sailed Mrs. Bidwell wrote to the +Benedict family, saying she was bringing me to New York.</p> + +<p>"So we sailed from Liverpool, and the very day we landed, Mrs. Bidwell +brought me here. We rang the old bell at the gate, and then waited and +waited. I thought no one would ever come. But at last the gate opened, +and Miss Benedict stood there in her hat and veil.</p> + +<p>"She acted very strangely from the first. Mrs. Bidwell told her all +about me, and she never said a single word, but only shook her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> head +several times. I thought she was certainly going to refuse to take me +in, her manner was so odd. After she had stood thinking a long time she +suddenly said to me, 'Come, then!' and to Mrs. Bidwell, 'I thank you!' +And she led me inside, followed by the driver with my box, and shut the +gate." Cecily stopped short, as if that were the end of the story.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but—go on!" stammered Marcia, quivering with impatience.</p> + +<p>"But I must do my marketing now," said Cecily. "Here we are at the shop. +I'll tell you the rest when we come out."</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></h2> + +<h3>SURPRISES ALL AROUND</h3> + +<p>"How long have you been in New York?" began Janet, when at last they +emerged from the little shop.</p> + +<p>"About two months," said Cecily. "And I've lived in that place all this +time, and have not known why. Miss Benedict has never explained. She +acts toward me as if I were a lodger, or—or some one she allowed to +stay there for reasons of her own, but didn't particularly want to have +about. She's kind to me, but never—friendly. Sometimes she looks at me +in the strangest way—I can't imagine what she's thinking about. But why +does she live like this?" and she turned inquiring eyes on the girls.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure <i>we</i> don't know!" exclaimed Marcia. "We only wonder about it. +The house seems to be all shut up."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, it <i>is</i>!" Cecily enlightened them. "And it makes it so dark and +gloomy! There is lovely furniture in the drawing-room, but it is all +covered over with some brown stuff—even the pictures. And most of the +other rooms are not used at all—nothing on the ground floor. I eat down +in the basement, and my bedroom is on the top floor—where I looked out +that time. I have never been in any of the other bedrooms except Miss +Benedict's, when her ankle was bad."</p> + +<p>"But what do you do with yourself all day?" asked Janet.</p> + +<p>"I keep my room in order, and help Miss Benedict whenever she lets me. +Of course, she prepares all the food herself, but in such a pretty, +dainty way. But there are a good many hours when the time hangs so heavy +on my hands. Sometimes she lets me dust the rooms on the ground floor. +She keeps everything very, very neat, even if it is all covered up and +never used. The rest of the time I sit in my room and read the few books +I brought with me, and tell myself long stories,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> or listen to your +music. I dare not now even peep through the shutters. Once I opened +them, when you were playing, but Miss Benedict came in just then and +forbade me to do it again."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't she ever let you go out and take a walk or get a little +exercise?" questioned Marcia.</p> + +<p>"No, the only times I have gone out have been just lately, when her +ankle has been so bad. At night, after it is dark, she lets me run about +the garden a bit, but never in the daytime."</p> + +<p>"But how did she find out about your knowing <i>us</i>?" broke in Janet.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course I told her—that first time after you were so good to +me—all about meeting you, and how lovely you were to me. I thought +she'd be so glad I'd found such nice friends. But she looked so +queer—almost frightened, and she said: 'You must not speak to them +again. It was kind of them to help you, but you must not encourage them +in any way. Remember, child!' And I was only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> trying to obey her when I +passed you without looking up the second time I went out."</p> + +<p>"Cecily," said Marcia, suddenly, "what does Miss Benedict look like, +anyhow? Do you ever see her without that veil? Isn't she very old and +plain?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no," answered Cecily, simply. "She's very beautiful."</p> + +<p>"<i>What!</i>" they gasped in chorus.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was surprised too, that day I came. After the driver had brought +my box into the hall (she wouldn't let him take it any farther), and she +had shut the door behind him and we were left alone, she seemed to—to +hesitate, but at last she raised her hands and took off her bonnet and +veil. I don't know what I expected, but I was surprised to see such a +lovely face. Her hair is gray, almost white, and so soft and wavy. And +yet she has rosy cheeks, and white teeth, and the most beautiful big +gray eyes. And her voice is very sweet, too. Do you know, I believe if +she'd only <i>let</i> me, I could just love her, but she holds me off as if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +she were somehow <i>afraid</i> of me. It's all very strange."</p> + +<p>The girls were completely nonplussed by this latest bit of information, +and found it hard to couple Cecily's attractive picture with the little +black-robed and veiled figure that they knew as Miss Benedict. The voice +alone tallied, and Marcia recounted how she had once met Miss Benedict +in the little grocery-shop. Suddenly, however, she was struck by a new +thought, and demanded:</p> + +<p>"But how about the other one?"</p> + +<p>Cecily opened her eyes wide. "Other one?" she queried. "Oh, you mean the +other person in the house?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," said Marcia. "The other old lady who sits in the room on the +second floor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>is</i> it an old lady?" inquired Cecily, in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course! Didn't you know it?" exclaimed Marcia.</p> + +<p>"I knew there was <i>some</i> one in there—some invalid. For Miss Benedict +has always warned me to be very quiet in going by that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> door, because +some one was ill in there. But she never told me who it was, nor +anything more about her. She always waits on her herself. Even when her +ankle was hurting her so, she would drag herself out of bed many times a +day to go into that room. But tell me, how did <i>you</i> know there was an +old lady in there?"</p> + +<p>Then Marcia recounted what she had seen on the night the wind tore open +the shutter. "How strange this all is," she ended, "that Miss Benedict +should never tell you who this person is! Why do you suppose she is +keeping it a secret?"</p> + +<p>As this was a problem none of them could solve, they could only +conjecture vainly about it as they walked along. But by this time they +had approached within a block of the house itself, and before they +turned the corner once more they all unconsciously halted.</p> + +<p>"Cecily," said Marcia, suddenly inspired with a bright idea. "I have the +grandest scheme! If Miss Benedict is going to do the marketing after +this, perhaps we won't see you again for some time. But I've a plan by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +which we can <i>hear</i> from each other as often as we like. You take a walk +in the garden every night, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"No, not always," answered Cecily. "Miss Benedict allows me to, but +often I don't care to. It's so dark and—and lonesome."</p> + +<p>"Well, after this, be sure to go out every night. Our window, you know, +is directly over the garden wall, only three stories up. I'm going to +have a long string with a weight attached to it, and fasten it in the +window. Every night, after dark, we'll write a note to you, fasten it to +the string, and drop it down into the garden among the bushes. You can +find it in the dark by feeling for the string, and if you have one +written to us, you can fasten it on, and we'll pull it up. Isn't that a +dandy idea?"</p> + +<p>Cecily's eyes sparkled for a moment, but suddenly her face clouded. "Oh, +it—it would be glorious!" she murmured. "Only—I must not. Even if Miss +Benedict doesn't know about it, I know she would forbid it if she did. +So—it would be wrong for me to do it!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Cecily! why should you care?" cried Marcia, impatiently, "And why +should she object to three girls sending little notes to one another? It +would be cruel to forbid that. It isn't really wrong, you know."</p> + +<p>"But she isn't cruel to me," Cecily interrupted. "You mustn't think +that. She—well, somehow, I feel she <i>would</i> be nice to me, only +something is holding her back. She isn't a bit cruel. I sometimes feel +as if I could care for her in spite of everything. So I don't want to go +against her wishes."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," began Janet, "here's a way out of it. We will write to +<i>you</i> anyway. Miss Benedict can't forbid us to do that, and you needn't +answer at all—needn't even read them, if you don't want to. But we'll +write, nevertheless, and you can't prevent it!"</p> + +<p>When Cecily smiled, her face lit up as if touched by a shaft of +sunlight. And she smiled now.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe I <i>ought</i> to read them," she said; "but, oh! it would +keep me from being so very lonely. But I must be going back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> now. I've +been longer than usual. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>Cecily was still smiling as she turned away, while Janet and Marcia +stood looking after her, waving farewell to her as she rounded the +corner.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2> + +<h3>AT THE END OF THE STRING</h3> + +<p>It was past midnight, that night, before the two girls could settle +themselves for a wink of sleep. So bewildering had been Cecily's +revelations about herself and Miss Benedict and the conditions in the +mysterious house, that they found inexhaustible food for discussion and +conjecture.</p> + +<p>The most interesting question, of course, was the absorbing mystery of +how Cecily came to be there at all.</p> + +<p>"Why should her mother have sent her there?" demanded Marcia, for the +twentieth time.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she was a relative," ventured Janet.</p> + +<p>"That's perfect nonsense," argued Marcia, "for then Miss Benedict would +surely have acted quite differently. If she had been the most distant +connection, Miss Benedict would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> surely have told her. No, I should say +she might be the child of a friend that Miss Benedict never cared +particularly about, and yet she doesn't quite like to send her away. +Isn't it a puzzle? But what <i>do</i> you think of Miss Benedict being +<i>beautiful</i>! I can't imagine it!"</p> + +<p>"And then, too, think of Cecily's not knowing there was another old lady +in the house!" added Janet.</p> + +<p>"What a darling Cecily is!" exclaimed Marcia, irrelevantly. "If Miss +Benedict knew how sweet and loyal and obedient Cecily is, she'd be a +little less strict with her, I'm sure. I suppose she doesn't want her to +gossip about what goes on in that queer house. And, by the way, we must +get our string in working order to-morrow. Let's send her other things +beside notes, too—things she'd enjoy."</p> + +<p>And until they fell asleep they planned the campaign for lightening the +lonely hours of the girl next door.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 197px;"><a name="ILL_005" id="ILL_005"></a> +<img src="images/ill_005.jpg" width="197" height="400" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">"They heard Cecily's light footsteps"</span> +</div> + +<p>Next day they jointly wrote a long letter,—telling all about +themselves, their homes, their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a><br /><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a><br /><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> schools, their studies, and any other +items they thought might interest her,—fastened it to the end of the +string, and dropped it into the dark garden after nightfall. Later they +heard Cecily's light footsteps in the gloom below, and when they pulled +up the string just before they went to bed, the note was gone.</p> + +<p>"Well, she's evidently decided that it would be all right for her to +take it," said Janet; "and I'm relieved, even if she doesn't answer. I +can see why she mightn't think it right to do <i>that</i>. And now we must +plan to send her something besides, every once in a while. I should +think she'd just die of lonesomeness in that old place, and with hardly +a thing to do, either!"</p> + +<p>That night they sent her down a little box of fudge that they had made +in the afternoon, and the next night a book that had captivated them +both. And when they pulled up the string the evening after, there was +the book again, and in it a tiny note, which ran:</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dear Girls</span>: You are too, too good to me. I ought not to be writing +this. It is wrong, I fear,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> but I just cannot sleep until I have +thanked you for the sweets, and this beautiful book. I read it +all, to-day. You are making me very happy. I love you both.</p></blockquote> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Cecily</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Meantime, they had seen Miss Benedict go in and out once or twice, +limping slightly, and had watched her veiled figure with absorbed +interest.</p> + +<p>"Who could possibly imagine her as beautiful!" they marveled. And truly, +it was an effort of imagination to connect beauty with the queer, oddly +arrayed little figure.</p> + +<p>Also, at various times during each day, Marcia made a point of giving a +little violin concert at her window, and, at Janet's suggestion, had +chosen the liveliest and most cheerful music in her repertoire for sad +little Cecily's entertainment.</p> + +<p>The two girls likewise exhausted every possibility in the line of small +gifts and tiny trifles to amuse and entertain their young neighbor. But +there was no further communication from her till one night after they +had sent down an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> embroidery ring and silks, the latest pattern of a +dainty boudoir-cap, and elaborate instructions how to embroider it. Next +night there was a note on the end of the string when they drew it up. It +read:</p> + +<blockquote><p>How dear of you to send me this! I <i>love</i> to embroider, and had +brought no materials with me. And now I want to ask you a +question. Do you mind what I do with it after it is finished? Is +it my very own? What can I ever do to repay you for all your +kindness!</p></blockquote> + +<p>In their answer they assured her that she could make any use of the +boudoir-cap that pleased her. And then they spent much time wondering +what use she <i>was</i> going to make of it.</p> + +<p>Two nights later, when they pulled up the string, they found, to their +surprise, a small parcel attached to the end. It contained a little box +in which lay, wrapped in jeweler's cotton, a tiny coral pendant in an +old-fashioned gold setting, and a silver bracelet of thin filigree-work. +The pendant was labeled, "For Marcia, with Cecily's love," and the +bracelet, "For Janet, with love from Cecily."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<p>The two girls gazed at the pathetic little gifts and sudden tears came +into their eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jan!" half sobbed Marcia; "we oughtn't to keep them! They're +probably the only trinkets she has."</p> + +<p>But Janet was wiser. "We must keep them," she decided. "Cecily doesn't +want all the giving to be on one side, and she has probably been longing +to do something for us. I suppose these are the only things she had that +would be suitable. Much as I hate to have her deprive herself of them, I +know she'd be terribly hurt if we sent them back. To-morrow we must +write her the best letter of thanks we can."</p> + +<p>So the days went by for two or three weeks. The girls caught, in all +this time, not so much as one glimpse of Cecily, but they managed, +thanks to their "line of communication," to keep constantly in touch +with her. Meantime, the summer weather waxed hotter and hotter, and the +city fairly steamed under the July sun. Their own time was taken up by +many diversions: trips to the parks, beaches, and zoo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> excursions out +of town with Aunt Minerva; shopping, and quiet sewing or reading in +their pleasant living-room. Every time they went out of their home on a +pleasure-jaunt, they felt guilty, to think of the lonely little prisoner +cooped up in the dreary house next door, and both declared they would +gladly give up their places to her, had such a thing been possible.</p> + +<p>Then, one night, something unusual occurred. They had sent down the +usual note, and also a little work-basket of Indian-woven sweet-grass, +the souvenir of a recent trip to the seaside. To their astonishment, +when they drew up the string, both note and basket were still attached. +This was the first time such a thing had happened.</p> + +<p>"What <i>can</i> be the matter?" queried Marcia. "Can it be possible that +Cecily feels she mustn't do this any more?"</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> didn't hear any footsteps down there to-night, did you?" said +Janet.</p> + +<p>"No, come to think of it, I didn't. She must have stayed indoors for the +first time since<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> we began this. But what do you suppose is the reason?"</p> + +<p>Janet suddenly clutched her friend. "Marcia, can it be possible that +Miss Benedict has discovered what we've been doing, and won't let her +come out any more?"</p> + +<p>"I believe that's it!" Marcia's voice was sharp with consternation. +"Wouldn't it be dreadful, if it's so?" They sat gloomily thinking it +over.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are we going to do about it?" demanded Marcia.</p> + +<p>"Wait till to-morrow night and try again," counseled Janet. "It's just +possible Cecily had a headache or felt sick from this abominable heat +and couldn't come down. Let's see what happens to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The next night they tied the basket and another note to the string and +dropped it down hopefully. But they drew it up untouched, precisely the +same as before.</p> + +<p>"It's just one of two things," decided Marcia. "Either Cecily is ill or +Miss Benedict has found out about our little plan and forbidden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> Cecily +to go on with it. What are we to do? Keep on sending notes, or stop it? +Suppose Miss Benedict herself should find one sometime."</p> + +<p>"I don't care!" cried Janet, decisively. "If Cecily is ill, she'll get +better pretty soon and come out some night, and there'll be nothing for +her. She'd be dreadfully disappointed. I don't care if there <i>is</i> the +possibility that Miss Benedict knows all about it. I'm going to keep +right on writing and take the chance!"</p> + +<p>For a whole week they followed their usual program, nightly sending down +a fresh note that they always later drew up, unclaimed. And as the days +passed they became more and more alarmed. Something had certainly +happened to Cecily. Of that they were sure, and their misgivings grew +more keen with the passing time.</p> + +<p>"Can it be that she isn't there any more?" conjectured Marcia, suddenly, +one day. "Perhaps Miss Benedict has sent her away!"</p> + +<p>This was a new and startling possibility. The more they contemplated it, +the more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> depressed they grew. If that were the case, then, they might +never see Cecily again, and the delightful and curious friendship would +be ended forever.</p> + +<p>Their usual good spirits were quite subdued, and even their hearty +appetites suffered somewhat, which worried Aunt Minerva not a little, +though she attributed it to the heat. Finally, one night, precisely one +week after the first unclaimed communication, they sent down the usual +letter, begging Cecily, if possible, to let them know what was the +matter. It seemed to both, during the interval they left it there, that +they heard light, almost stealthy footsteps in the garden below. But +neither felt certain about it. An hour later they drew up the string. +Their own note was still attached to it at the bottom, but just above it +they saw fastened a little scrap of paper, no bigger than a quarter of +an ordinary note-sheet. Both girls started with delight.</p> + +<p>"Quick!" cried Marcia. "Cecily has answered at last! Oh, I'm so glad!"</p> + +<p>Janet unfastened it, her fingers trembling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> with excitement, and spread +it out on the table.</p> + +<p>It was not in Cecily's handwriting, and contained but a few words. Both +girls read it at a glance, and then stared into each other's eyes, half +terror-stricken, half amazed. For this is what it said:</p> + +<blockquote><p>Will you please come to the gate to-morrow morning at half-past +nine?</p></blockquote> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">A. Benedict</span>.</span><br /> +</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></h2> + +<h3>FOR THE SAKE OF CECILY</h3> + +<p>"What <i>can</i> it mean?" muttered Janet. "What does she want of us?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's perfectly plain," declared Marcia. "She has discovered that +we have been trying to correspond with Cecily, and she's going to demand +an explanation—probably warn us that we must stop it. Are you—afraid +to go, Janet?"</p> + +<p>"Not I! Why should I be? Miss Benedict can't do or say a thing to harm +<i>us</i>! But I <i>am</i> anxious for poor little Cecily. I just hate to think we +may have brought trouble on her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wish now we'd never suggested such a thing!" moaned Marcia. +"We've just succeeded in making that poor little thing miserable, I +suppose."</p> + +<p>"Well, we can only remember that we <i>meant</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> to make her happy, and we +<i>did</i>—for a while, at least," comforted Janet. "And what's more, I'm +not going to worry about it another bit to-night. Maybe it's something +entirely different, anyway."</p> + +<p>Marcia, however, could not bring herself to this cheerful view of +things. All night long she tossed beside the sleeping Janet, wondering +and wondering about what the coming interview might mean, and blaming +herself a thousand times for placing Cecily in the position of having +deceived her guardian. When morning came she was pale and heavy-eyed, +which alarmed her aunt not a little.</p> + +<p>"You ought not go out this morning, Marcia," remarked Miss Minerva, +anxiously. "The sun is very hot, and you look as if you had a headache."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I haven't, Aunty!" cried Marcia, eagerly, fearful of a hitch in +their plans. "I didn't sleep very well, but a walk in the fresh air will +do me good, I know." And so Miss Minerva saw them go, without further +protest.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>They both halted at the gate in the brick wall and looked into each +other's eyes. The hot morning sun beat down upon them as they stood +there, and passers-by eyed them curiously. Each was perfectly certain +that the thumping of her heart could be heard. And still they stood, +hesitating.</p> + +<p>"You're afraid!" accused Janet.</p> + +<p>"I'm—not!" protested Marcia. "And I'll prove it!" She raised her hand +suddenly—and pulled the rusty bell-handle.</p> + +<p>It seemed a long, long time before there was any response. But at last +they heard the click of the opening front door and the sound of +footsteps on the path. This was followed by the creaking of a key +turning in the lock of the gate. Janet gripped Marcia by the hand, and +with pounding hearts they stood together, while the gate slowly opened. +In another instant, the veiled, black-gowned figure of Miss Benedict +stood before them. She waited a moment, silent, appearing to look them +over critically.</p> + +<p>"Come in, if you please!" she said at last,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> very softly, and held the +gate open for them. They entered obediently, and she shut the gate. It +was not until they were inside the house, standing in the dim hall with +the front door closed behind them, that another word was spoken. Then +Miss Benedict faced them again, but she did not remove her bonnet or +throw back her veil.</p> + +<p>"I have asked you to come here this morning," she began, "because I +understand that you have become acquainted with the child Cecily +Marlowe."</p> + +<p>Cold chills ran up and down their spines. It had come at last! "Yes," +faltered Janet, "we—we <i>have</i> become acquainted with her." It was not a +brilliant reply, but, for the life of her, she could think of nothing +else to say. They waited, shuddering, for what might be coming next.</p> + +<p>"So she has told me," went on Miss Benedict. "I also understand that +lately you have been dropping notes to her into the garden—at night."</p> + +<p>Janet noticed, even in the midst of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> trepidation, how wonderfully +sweet and soft and harmonious the voice was.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Marcia, very low, "we have." The worst was out—now let +the blow fall! They braced themselves to receive it.</p> + +<p>"Cecily is ill!" said Miss Benedict, abruptly.</p> + +<p>They each uttered a startled little "Oh!"</p> + +<p>"She has not been at all well for over a week," the lovely voice +continued. "I am very much worried about her."</p> + +<p>Janet and Marcia glanced into each other's eyes in astonishment. Cecily +ill—and Miss Benedict actually <i>caring</i> about it! Here were surprises +indeed!</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope it's nothing serious!" exclaimed Marcia, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I hope it is not—and I <i>think</i> it is probably only the hot weather +and—and want of exercise." Miss Benedict hesitated a little over the +last. "She has been so—poorly, and has—has evidently been so anxious +to—to see you, that I thought I would—surprise her by asking you to +come and—visit her a while." It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> was plainly a struggle for Miss +Benedict to make this seem the natural, normal thing to do. "Will +you—come up to her room?"</p> + +<p>The girls were almost too stunned at the turn events had taken to reply. +"Why—we'd be glad to," faltered Marcia, at last.</p> + +<p>"Then, if you will follow me—" Miss Benedict led the way, through the +dark halls and up three pairs of stairs. At the door of a room on the +fourth floor she paused, knocked, and then entered. They followed, dimly +perceiving a little form in the bed, for the shutters, of course, were +closed. As they entered after Miss Benedict Cecily sprang to a sitting +posture, with a cry of mingled wonder, consternation, and joy. She, too, +glanced uncertainly at Miss Benedict.</p> + +<p>"I have asked your friends to come and—and see you for a while," she +explained hesitatingly to the bewildered child. "Perhaps it will make +you—feel better." Then she turned abruptly and went out of the room, +closing the door after her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<p>For a moment they stared at one another.</p> + +<p>"Cecily!" cried Janet, at length, "what <i>does</i> this all mean, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"I never dreamed of such a thing as seeing you—here!" faltered the +invalid.</p> + +<p>"What made her do it?" demanded Marcia. "We found a note from her tied +to our string. How did she know about it?"</p> + +<p>Cecily seemed to shrink back at this piece of news. "I told her, +myself," she said. "I was very sick one night—I think I had a fever. My +head was so hot and ached so. And she was—oh! so good to me! I could +hardly believe it! She bathed my head, and sat by me, and put her cool +hands on my forehead. It really seemed as if she—cared! And I felt so +ashamed to think I'd—disobeyed her that I just told her right out all +about it—how lonely I'd been, and how good you were to me, and how I'd +enjoyed hearing from you."</p> + +<p>"And what did she say?" breathed Marcia, in an awe-struck whisper.</p> + +<p>"Not a word except, 'Never mind now, little girl!' And she never said a +thing more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> about it. I didn't dream that she'd ever do such a thing as +<i>send</i> for you to come and see me!"</p> + +<p>They marveled over it all a moment in silence. Then Marcia burst out: +"Oh, Cecily, we've been <i>so</i> worried about you! We couldn't think why +you didn't even take the letters any more. Have you been very ill?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I don't know—I just feel horrid most of the time. My head aches a +lot, and every once in a while I'm awfully cold, and then I seem to be +burning up—"</p> + +<p>"Why, I believe you must have malaria!" interrupted Marcia. "That's what +Aunt Minerva has sometimes. You ought to go out more, and have fresh air +and—sunshine—" She stopped suddenly, remembering the conditions. "But +anyway, it isn't serious," she hurried on, after an embarrassed pause. +"And you ought to have some quinine. I wonder if Miss Benedict would let +us get it for you. I'll ask her, later." Then they hurried on to tell +her how they had continued to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> send down a note every night, hoping that +she would get it, and how they had feared that she might have gone away.</p> + +<p>And Cecily, in return, told them how she had enjoyed the notes and +gifts, but how guilty she had always felt about receiving them, +especially when she had answered them.</p> + +<p>"And I finished embroidering the boudoir-cap," she ended, "and—and I +gave it to Miss Benedict."</p> + +<p>"You <i>did</i>?" they both gasped.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I <i>hope</i> you don't mind!" exclaimed Cecily, hastily; "but—but I +felt as if I wanted to <i>do</i> something for her. She—I—I think I'm +getting to like her—more and more."</p> + +<p>"What did she say?" asked Marcia. "Was she pleased? I can't imagine her +wearing such a thing."</p> + +<p>"She looked at it and then at me—very strangely for a minute. Then she +said: 'Thank you, child. I—I never wear such things, but I'll keep +it—for your sake!'"</p> + +<p>"Isn't that queer!" exclaimed Janet. "You thought she cared nothing +about you!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," agreed Cecily; "but lately—I'm not so sure."</p> + +<p>In the pause that followed, the girls glanced curiously about the +darkened room, trying to realize that they were actually inside the +mysterious house at last. It was a large, square room, furnished with +heavy chairs and an old-fashioned bureau and bed. Every shutter was +fastened and the slats tightly closed. Only the dimmest daylight +filtered in. The effect was gloomy and depressing to the last degree. +They wondered how Cecily had stood it so long.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="ILL_006" id="ILL_006"></a> +<img src="images/ill_006.jpg" width="600" height="399" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">"I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these +shutters," cried Janet, suddenly</span> +</div> + +<p>"I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these shutters," cried +Janet, suddenly. "I should think you'd die of this gloom. It's really +bad for you, Cecily!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't!" exclaimed Cecily, in consternation. "I asked her once, when +I first came, and she didn't like it at all! She said no, she preferred +to have them shut, and I must not touch them."</p> + +<p>"I don't care!" went on Janet, ruthlessly. "You weren't sick then. I'm +sure she'd let you now!" And, true to her word, she turned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> to Miss +Benedict, who entered at this moment, still bonneted and veiled.</p> + +<p>"I believe Cecily has malaria, Miss Benedict," she began bravely, but +with inward trepidation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you think so? Is it serious?" The melodious voice sounded +startled and concerned.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it's so serious," Janet continued, "but she'd probably +get over it quicker if she had a lot of fresh air and sunshine. Couldn't +she have the shutters open? It would do her lots of good."</p> + +<p>Cecily and Marcia trembled at Janet's temerity and watched Miss Benedict +with bated breath. But instead of being annoyed, she only seemed +surprised and relieved.</p> + +<p>"Why, do you think so?" she queried. "Then—surely they may be opened. +I—I do not like the—the glare of so much daylight myself, but Cecily +may have it here, if she chooses." And following up her words, she +pushed open one of the shutters. A broad shaft of sunlight streamed in, +and, blinking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a><br /><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a><br /><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> from the previous gloom, Janet and Marcia threw open +the others.</p> + +<p>Cecily gave a delighted cry, "Oh, how lovely it is to see the sun +again!" But Miss Benedict, with an abrupt exclamation, retreated hastily +from the room.</p> + +<p>The girls stayed a few moments more, chatting. Then they wisely +suggested that perhaps they had better go, and not tire Cecily by too +long a call. Hearing Miss Benedict's footstep in the hall below, they +took their leave, promising to come again, as soon as it seemed best. On +the landing of the stairway they found the black-veiled figure +apparently waiting for them.</p> + +<p>Now, during all the strange little interview, a curious impression had +been growing upon Janet, strengthened by every word Miss Benedict had +uttered—an impression that here was no grim, forbidding jailor, such as +they had imagined the mistress of "Benedict's Folly" to be. Instead, +they had encountered a gentle, almost winning, little person, worried +about the illness of the child in her care and plainly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> anxious to do +everything suggested to make her more comfortable. Janet suddenly +resolved on a bold move.</p> + +<p>"Cecily is so lonely," she began, turning to Miss Benedict. "Don't you +think it would do her lots of good to come in and visit us once in a +while? Marcia's aunt would be so glad to see her. As soon as she is a +little better, can't she—"</p> + +<p>"No," interrupted Miss Benedict, her little figure suddenly stiffening +and a determined note creeping into her soft voice. "I am sorry. Cecily +cannot make visits. It is out of the question!"</p> + +<p>It was like striking a hidden rock in a smooth, beautiful sheet of +water. And her words admitted of no argument. Janet and Marcia followed +her meekly and in silence down to the front door. Here, in an uncertain +pause, Marcia made one further suggestion.</p> + +<p>"May we bring Cecily some quinine?" she ventured. "If she has malaria, +she ought to have that. We have lots of it at home."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It would be very kind of you," replied Miss Benedict, in an entirely +different tone. "Come to-morrow and see her again—if your aunt will +permit it. Perhaps it would be well to explain to her—" and here her +manner became confused—"that—I—er—do not make calls or—or receive +them, but this is just—just for the sake of the child." It was plain to +the girls that this admission was wrung from her only by a great effort. +She opened the front door and followed them to the gate. When she had +unlocked it, Marcia turned to her impulsively.</p> + +<p>"Thank you <i>so</i> much for letting us come! We are very, very fond of +Cecily. She is such a dear, and we've been terribly worried about her. +As a relative, I'm afraid you have been still more anxious."</p> + +<p>The black figure started. "She is no relative of mine!" came abruptly +from behind the veil.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon, I should say—<i>friend</i>," stuttered Marcia, +embarrassed, "or—or the daughter of a friend, perhaps."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She is not," Miss Benedict contradicted, in a strange, flat tone, as if +repeating a lesson. "I do not know who she is—nor why she is here!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></h2> + +<h3>THE FILIGREE BRACELET</h3> + +<p>Aunt Minerva took off her silver-rimmed spectacles, wiped them +excitedly, and put them on again.</p> + +<p>"And she said she didn't know who the child was or why she was there? +Well—I—never!" she exclaimed, adjusting them all awry.</p> + +<p>Marcia had decided to tell her aunt all about it. And Janet had agreed +with her that since Miss Benedict had spoken as she did, there could be +no further occasion for secrecy. So that night they gave her an entire +history of the affair, and found her a willing listener, interested and +sympathetic beyond their wildest expectations.</p> + +<p>"Why, Aunty, I didn't suppose you'd care much about it!" exclaimed +Marcia, in surprise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> "And here you are, nearly as excited over it as +we've been."</p> + +<p>"Why, who would not be?" said Miss Minerva. "It's precisely like a +mystery in a book. I wasn't interested in the old place at first, +because I was too busy and it seemed as if the people living there were +such slack housekeepers. I haven't any sympathy with <i>that</i>. But what +could she mean by that last remark? Not know who the child is—or why +she's there! It's absurd! I can't believe it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's what she <i>said</i>!" asserted Marcia, again. "And if any one +ever heard of a bigger mystery, I'd like to know about it!"</p> + +<p>Miss Minerva took up her mending again. "Then I don't see why she keeps +the girl," she commented.</p> + +<p>"She keeps her, <i>I</i> think, because she's getting sort of fond of her," +reasoned Janet. "You can easily see that. Cecily said she was very good +to her the night she was so ill. And then, too, it must have been a hard +pull for her to go so far as to send for <i>us</i> to come in just because it +might please Cecily."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We must see that the child has the quinine, and it wouldn't hurt her to +have a glass or two of currant jelly. Don't forget them when you go in +to-morrow," Miss Minerva reminded them. "I'd like to have her here and +nurse her myself and feed her up a bit. And that's another strange +thing—why should that woman" (Miss Minerva invariably alluded to Miss +Benedict as "that woman") "allow you to go in and visit the child, yet +forbid her to visit you?"</p> + +<p>"Don't ask us why," laughed Marcia. "We're as much in the dark as any +one else. What <i>I</i> want to know is why did Miss Benedict allow Cecily to +open her shutters to-day when she refused her a while ago. And why +doesn't she open them over all the rest of the house?"</p> + +<p>"Well, what <i>I</i> want to know," added Janet, "is why Cecily's mother +should have sent her over here to the Benedicts' at all, when nobody +knew her or claimed her. Whatever made her think of such a thing?"</p> + +<p>"There are several explanations that might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> suit such a case," mused +Miss Minerva. "Mrs. Marlowe might have been a married sister, or some +more distant relative, who—"</p> + +<p>"Then wouldn't Miss Benedict know about it—or at least <i>suspect</i> some +such connection?" interrupted Marcia.</p> + +<p>"That's true," acknowledged her aunt. "There <i>must</i> be some other +explanation. <i>What</i> a puzzle!"</p> + +<p>"What's more," added Janet, "I remember that Cecily told us this: when +she first came, Miss Benedict questioned her all about herself—where +she came from, and all that. And after Cecily had told her she never +said a word, but just walked away, shaking her head."</p> + +<p>Miss Minerva's mind suddenly took a new turn. "Didn't you say the child +sent you a couple of gifts—little trinkets—not long ago? I'd like to +see them."</p> + +<p>"We've never worn them," said Marcia. "It just seemed as if we +couldn't—she ought not to have given them away. And yet—I know just +how she felt—she wanted to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> <i>something</i>! I'll get them." She brought +the box and laid it in her aunt's lap.</p> + +<p>Miss Minerva examined the coral pendant first. "The dear little thing!" +she murmured. "She must think a lot of you to have parted with this!" +Then she laid it down and took up the bracelet. "Gracious!" she +exclaimed immediately, letting it fall and then picking it up again. "Am +I going crazy, or are my eyes deceiving me?" She turned it over and +over.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" cried both girls at once.</p> + +<p>"<i>Matter?</i>" cried Miss Minerva. "Why, just this: that bracelet is +exactly like one I've had put away for years!" The girls stared at her +incredulously. "I'll get it this minute and prove it!" And she hurried +out of the room.</p> + +<p>While she was gone they examined the bracelet more closely than they had +yet done. It consisted of two thin rims of silver, joined by silver +filigree-work, a quarter of an inch wide. Here and there, at intervals +in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> filigree, and forming part of the pattern, were several strange +characters, looking, as Marcia declared, like those on the receipt from +a Chinese laundry. The workmanship was unusually delicate and beautiful.</p> + +<p>In five minutes Miss Minerva was back, flushed and disheveled, from a +hunt through several bureau-drawers and boxes.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't find it at first," she panted. "In Northam I used to be able +to lay my hand on anything I wanted, at an instant's notice, but in this +apartment!" She heaved a resigned sigh and laid something beside the +bracelet on the table.</p> + +<p>It was the exact duplicate—in every last detail! Even the complicated +characters were identical! The three stared at the trinkets in an +expressive silence. Not for a moment could it be doubted that these two +bracelets were once a pair. They were so unusual that it was impossible +there could be others like them. This astonishing fact was patent to +them all.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aunt Minerva, where <i>did</i> you get yours?" breathed Marcia, at last.</p> + +<p>"Why, that's easily explained," answered Miss Brett. "Your father +brought it to me about ten or twelve years ago, after one of his +voyages. He said that a Chinese sailor in Hong-Kong had offered to sell +it to him for a small sum, and seeing it was a rather unique little +trinket, he bought it and brought it home to me. I never wear such +things, however. Jewelry never did appeal to me, and bracelets, +particularly, always seemed a nuisance. So I put it away intending to +give it to you some day, Marcia. And after a while I actually forgot all +about it—till to-night!"</p> + +<p>Janet sat up very straight. "There's just one thing I'd give my head to +know—this minute! <i>Where</i> did Cecily get <i>her</i> bracelet?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that you can easily find out—but I'm afraid you'll have to wait +till to-morrow morning!" laughed Marcia.</p> + +<p>"There's something very strange about this," marveled Miss Minerva, +turning the two trinkets over and over. "Actually, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> can hardly tell +now which is mine and which hers, except that mine is a little more +tarnished from having been laid away. Your father said, when he gave me +mine, that he'd never seen anything like it in any of those foreign +jewelry-shops and that was why he'd been specially attracted to it."</p> + +<p>"Aunty," said Marcia, suddenly, "where do you suppose that sailor got +it?"</p> + +<p>"Your father said," replied Miss Minerva, "that he'd probably stolen it, +or somebody else had. It may have passed through dozens of hands after +it was taken from the original owner. You never can tell about such +things in the East, and it's useless to inquire."</p> + +<p>Again they all stared hard at the two silver trinkets, lying side by +side on the table.</p> + +<p>"And these two bracelets once belonged to the same person," murmured +Marcia, at last; "perhaps to some one connected with Cecily. And to +think they should have drifted halfway around the world to find +themselves side by side again in busy, practical New York!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></h2> + +<h3>THE LIFTED VEIL</h3> + +<p>Next morning Marcia and Janet sallied forth to make their promised visit +to Cecily. They were armed with a box of quinine pills, two glasses of +currant jelly, a new magazine, Marcia's violin in its case, and, last, +but not least, the two filigree bracelets. And they were literally +bursting with news and excitement.</p> + +<p>Miss Benedict opened the gate for them as before, and to their inquiries +replied that Cecily seemed a little better. If she noticed the +suppressed excitement in their manner, she did not comment upon it, but +only led the way to Cecily's room without further words. She was +bonneted and veiled as usual. At the door she left them, saying she +would not go in.</p> + +<p>"Cecily, Cecily!" cried Marcia, immediately; "we have news—such strange +news for you!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> Cecily was at once all eagerness and animation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell me, quickly!" she exclaimed, sitting up in the bed. "I feel so +much better. I'm going to get up to-day. But how can you have any +news—about me?"</p> + +<p>"Cecily," said Janet, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "have you +been thinking, all this time, that Miss Benedict knew everything about +you, and why you came here, and all that?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course!" cried Cecily, opening her eyes wide. "She has never +explained it to me, and she's so—<i>queer</i> that I never liked to ask her. +But I always thought she <i>knew</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Well, she doesn't—not a thing, apparently," replied Janet, and then +repeated to her all the strange conversation at the gate on the day +before.</p> + +<p>When she had finished, Cecily sat as if stunned—quiet and rigid and +staring out of the window. So much had it appeared to affect her that +Janet was suddenly sorry she had said a word about it.</p> + +<p>"Then—what does it all mean?" murmured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> Cecily, at last. "I'm here +where I've no right to be. Nobody knows me—or wants me. How did it all +happen? Don't I belong to <i>anybody</i>?" She looked so bewildered, so +frightened, so unhappy, that Janet and Marcia both put their arms about +her.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Cecily; it's <i>sure</i> to be all right—in the end. <i>We</i> +would love you and want you if nobody else did. And I'm sure Miss +Benedict must care for you too. She really acts so. But the question is, +how did you ever come to be sent here at all? Didn't your mother ever +say anything to you about this place or any of the people over here?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Cecily, in a hushed voice. It was evident from her manner +that her grief over the loss of her mother was very keen, and she had +only once voluntarily referred to it or to anything connected with it.</p> + +<p>"My mother never, never mentioned the name of Benedict to me,—I never +heard of it before."</p> + +<p>"But couldn't Miss Benedict possibly have been some connection—some +distant connection<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> that she never thought of or mentioned?" persisted +Marcia.</p> + +<p>"No—my mother's people were all English," declared Cecily, "and they +were all dead. We had no relatives living."</p> + +<p>"Well, your father, then?" supplemented Janet. "What about him?"</p> + +<p>"I never knew him to remember him. Mother said he died when I was a baby +a year or two old. He hadn't any relatives, either."</p> + +<p>"Well, here's something else we have to tell you, and it's the strangest +thing yet," began Janet. "Can you tell us where you got that bracelet, +Cecily,—the one you were so lovely as to send to us?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I always had it," answered Cecily. "Even when I was a tiny little +girl and it was much too big for me, it seemed to be mine. Mother kept +it in a box, but she let me play with it once in a while. Then when I +was older and it fitted me better, she let me wear it. I <i>think</i> she +said my father gave it to me. I don't remember very clearly. I don't +believe I ever thought much about it, although I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> realized it was rather +unusual. But why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Did she ever say it had a mate—that there was a pair of them?" +questioned Marcia.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I'm sure she never said anything about another."</p> + +<p>"What do you think of this, then?" Marcia drew the two bracelets out of +her bag, and laid them side by side on the bed.</p> + +<p>"Why, how very, very <i>queer</i>!" cried Cecily, incredulously. "Where <i>did</i> +you get the other?"</p> + +<p>Marcia outlined its history. "You see, there isn't a shadow of doubt +that there was once a pair of them," she ended, "and that they both +belonged to the same person. Now <i>who</i> could that person be?"</p> + +<p>"It must have been some one connected with you, Cecily," added Janet. +"Everything points that way. Well, one thing is certain: if we could +find out the truth about these two bracelets, I believe we'd find out +about Cecily, too—why she is here and the whole mystery!"</p> + +<p>All three were very silent for a moment, considering.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know one thing," ventured Marcia, at length. "Cecily, you must <i>not</i> +give this bracelet away. It was dear and sweet of you to think of it in +the first place—and we'll keep the little coral pendant for both of us +if you like. But the bracelet is something that may mean a great deal to +you yet, and you ought to have it. Don't you agree with me, Janet?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly do," added Janet, heartily; "and what's more, I've thought +of something else. When Captain Brett comes home next time, he <i>may</i> be +able to tell us something more about the other bracelet. When do you +expect him, Marcia?"</p> + +<p>"Not for two or three months," replied Marcia, ruefully. "I'd give +anything if it could only be sooner. It seems as if we <i>never</i> could +wait that long!"</p> + +<p>"Well, let's not think of it just now," comforted Janet. "I don't +suppose we can find out anything till he <i>does</i> come, so there's no use +fretting. How would you like to hear some music, Cecily? Marcia's +brought her violin."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a><br /><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a><br /><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 220px;"><a name="ILL_007" id="ILL_007"></a> +<img src="images/ill_007.jpg" width="220" height="400" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">"In the sudden light of the open door she stood +revealed"</span> +</div> + +<p>"How good of you!" cried Cecily, an almost pathetic eagerness in her +voice. "It will be wonderful to hear it near by!"</p> + +<p>So Marcia opened the case and took out the instrument, tuned it, tucked +it lovingly under her chin, and slipped into a rollicking Hungarian +dance by Brahms, while her little audience listened spellbound.</p> + +<p>"Oh, something else, please!" sighed Cecily, blissfully, when it was +ended. And Marcia, changing the theme, gave them the lullaby from +"Jocelyn," and after that Beethoven's Minuet in G.</p> + +<p>"Just <i>one</i> more," begged Cecily; "that is—if you're not too tired. The +one I—I like so much!"</p> + +<p>"I know—the 'Träumerei,'" nodded Marcia, and once more laid her bow +across the strings.</p> + +<p>When the last note had died away, they were all suddenly startled by a +strange sound just outside the door—a sound that was partly a sob and +partly a half-stifled exclamation.</p> + +<p>Before she quite realized what she was doing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> Janet, who happened to be +sitting near the door, sprang up and threw it open.</p> + +<p>In the hall outside stood Miss Benedict, her hands clasped tensely in +front of her. But, strangest of all, her veil was thrown back from her +face, and in the sudden light of the open door she stood revealed! In an +instant they realized that Cecily had not exaggerated the beauty of her +singularly lovely face. She plainly had been listening, captivated, to +the music within the room, and something about it must have stirred her +strangely.</p> + +<p>All this they noticed in the fraction of a moment, for, as she saw them, +she pulled down her veil with a hasty movement, murmuring something +about having heard music and coming to see what it was.</p> + +<p>But she did not pull it down quickly enough to hide one fact from the +gaze of the two girls—that her beautiful gray eyes were brimming with +tears!</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></h2> + +<h3>MISS BENEDICT SPEAKS</h3> + +<p>It was Miss Minerva who decided that Miss Benedict must be told about +the coincidence of the two bracelets.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, she ought to know!" she declared positively. "There must be +<i>some</i> reason why that child has been sent to her, and she ought to be +told all the facts concerning her. Who knows but what <i>she</i> may have +some explanation of this bracelet mystery! You tell her the very next +time you go in. And don't forget to take a jar of that quince marmalade, +besides." Aunt Minerva had determined on keeping Cecily well supplied +with toothsome dainties, which commodities, she keenly suspected, were +scarce in the big house. In fact, the girls had told her that the +marketing for that establishment, so far as they had seen,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> seemed to +consist mainly of milk and eggs, rice and prunes!</p> + +<p>So a day or two after, when they visited Cecily again, they planned to +have an interview with her guardian. Marcia was shy about broaching the +subject, so the task was left to Janet, who, being anxious to settle the +matter immediately, began it as soon as the gate was opened.</p> + +<p>"Miss Benedict," she said, "there is something quite strange about +Cecily that we should like to tell you. Could you spare a few moments to +hear about it?"</p> + +<p>"Why—er—of course!" replied the little black-veiled lady, in a rather +startled voice. "Will you—er—that is, I will come to her room in a +little while—if you will kindly close the shutters—first!" And she +directed them to proceed upstairs, without this time accompanying them.</p> + +<p>Cecily was overjoyed at their appearance. She was sitting by the window, +fully dressed, the sunshine streaming in on her, transforming her curls +into a radiant halo. A definite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> change had come over her during the +last few days, caused, no doubt, by the enjoyment of light and sunshine +and companionship. She was losing some of her former wan, wistful, +frightened aspect, and assuming more of the confiding, sunny +characteristics that were natural to her. At the moment the girls +entered she was reading a magazine brought by them on their previous +visit.</p> + +<p>After the first greetings and chat they reported their conversation with +Miss Benedict.</p> + +<p>"She's coming up soon," ended Marcia, "and we must get the shutters +closed. But what on earth <i>for</i>? Why <i>can't</i> she be like ordinary people +and enjoy the air and sunshine like the rest of us? Do <i>you</i> know, +Cecily?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can't imagine. It has all seemed very strange to me ever since I +came. But you know how odd Miss Benedict is. I can't abide asking her +any questions, and she never explains anything. The whole house is +darkened like this all the time, and since she let me open my shutters, +she's never once been in this room in the daytime. She never goes out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +without that heavy veil, not even into the garden. I don't understand +it!"</p> + +<p>"Do you know," suggested Marcia, half under her breath, "one would +almost think she had done something wrong and was ashamed of showing her +face in the daylight. I've heard of such things. And that would explain +some other queer things about this place, too, like—"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" warned Janet. "I hear her coming."</p> + +<p>In another moment Miss Benedict had opened the door. And in the very dim +light (Marcia had been closing the shutters as they talked) they saw an +unusual sight. Miss Benedict had come to them without her bonnet and +veil!</p> + +<p>The change in her appearance was surprising. Her wonderful white hair +was piled on top of her head in a heavy coronet braid. Her complexion +was singularly soft and youthful, and her lovely gray eyes, even in the +dim light, easily seemed her most attractive feature. It was a curious +contrast made by the removal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> of the ugly bonnet and veil. In them she +appeared a little, insignificant, unattractive personality. Without +them, though short and slight of figure, she possessed a look and manner +almost regal.</p> + +<p>She did not refer to the omission of her usual headgear, but took a seat +and quietly asked them what they had to tell her.</p> + +<p>Janet undertook to explain, and began by telling how Cecily had sent the +little gift to them, via the string, and ended by explaining about Aunt +Minerva's duplicate. Miss Benedict listened to it all without comment. +When Janet had finished and held out the two bracelets for her to +examine, she merely took them and laid them in her lap, scarcely +glancing at them. They waited, breathless, for her response.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "I know nothing about these bracelets. It is, of course, +very singular—a surprising coincidence that your aunt should have one +of them. But I know nothing about them, any more than I know about +Cecily herself." It was the first time she had ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> referred to the +matter before Cecily, and it was evident that it was not easy for her to +do so.</p> + +<p>"I might as well speak plainly to you all about this, since the matter +has come up. I did not know little Cecily; I had never heard of her, nor +anything about her before she came here. I cannot imagine why she was +sent. I have no relatives whose child she could have been, nor any +friend who could have given her into my care."</p> + +<p>"Then why," interrupted Janet, "if you will pardon me for asking, Miss +Benedict,—why did you take her in the day she came?"</p> + +<p>Miss Benedict's manner instantly became a trifle confused and +embarrassed. "It is—er—a little difficult to explain, I confess," she +stammered. "The truth is—I—er—it is commonly reported that we—that +is—I have some means. I have frequently, in the past years, received +very strange letters from people utterly unknown to me,—begging +letters, letters proposing to invest my money for me,—oh! I cannot +begin to tell you all the strange things these letters propose. I +understand it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> is a not unusual experience—with well-to-do people. I +have even received letters proposing that I adopt the writer's children +and eventually settle my money on them!"</p> + +<p>Here Janet and Marcia could not repress a giggle, and Miss Benedict +smiled slightly in sympathy.</p> + +<p>"It <i>does</i> sound absurd," she admitted; "but it is quite true, and has +often been most annoying. So, when the letter arrived announcing +Cecily's coming, for which there was given no particular explanation, I +thought it simply another case of a similar kind. And I resolved to +dismiss both the child and her attendant as soon as they appeared.</p> + +<p>"But when the day came, strangely enough, I changed my mind. It was +Cecily herself led me to do so. I felt as soon as I looked at her that, +whoever had sent her here and for whatever purpose, the child herself +was innocent of any fraud or imposture. She believed that I would +receive her, that I <i>knew</i> it was all right. There was something +<i>trusting</i> about her eyes, her look, her whole manner. I cannot explain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +it. And that was not all—there was another reason.</p> + +<p>"I suddenly realized how very lonely I was, how desirable it would be to +have with me a young companion—like Cecily. I know that the life I lead +is—is different—and peculiar. It is owing to unusual circumstances +that I cannot explain to you. But I have become so accustomed to this +life that of late years I scarcely realized it <i>was</i> so—different. But +when I saw Cecily—I felt suddenly—its loneliness."</p> + +<p>With the laying aside of her veil, Miss Benedict seemed also to have +laid aside some of the reticence in which she had shrouded herself. And +her three hearers, listening spellbound, realized how utterly charming +she could be—if she <i>allowed</i> herself to be so.</p> + +<p>"A great desire seized me," she went on, "to take her in and keep her +with me a while. If, later, some one came to claim her, well and good. I +would let her go. Or if no one came and I found I had been +mistaken,—that she was not companionable,—I could make some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> other +provision for her. Meantime, I would yield to this new desire and enjoy +her presence—here. In addition to that, the lady in whose company she +had traveled was not in position to keep Cecily longer with her, and the +child would be left without protection. So I took her in. And so I have +kept her ever since, because I am daily becoming more—attached to her."</p> + +<p>It was a great admission for this reticent little lady, and they all +realized it. So deeply were they impressed that none of them could make +any response. Presently Miss Benedict continued:</p> + +<p>"After Cecily had told me her story I determined to write to the village +of Cranby, England, and find out what I could about her mother, Mrs. +Marlowe. I knew no one to whom I could address the inquiries, but sent +them on chance to the vicar of the parish church. In due time I received +a reply. It stated that Mrs. Marlowe was not a native of that town, but +came there to live about twelve years ago, with her three-year-old +daughter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> Nothing was known about her personal affairs except that her +husband and all her people were dead, and that she had come there from a +distant part of England because the climate of her former home did not +agree with her little daughter. She never talked much about herself, and +lived in a very retired, quiet way. She left no property or effects of +any value. Why she should have sent her child to me was as much a +mystery as ever. About Cecily's father the vicar knew nothing. That is +all the information I have."</p> + +<p>Miss Benedict stopped abruptly. Cecily opened her lips to say something, +then closed them again without having spoken. Marcia fidgeted uneasily +in her chair. Miss Benedict looked down at her lap. An embarrassed +silence seemed to have fallen on them all. Only Janet, knitting her +brows over the puzzle, was unaware of it.</p> + +<p>"But, Miss Benedict," she began, "we all think that these bracelets may +have something to do with Cecily's affairs—might explain a good deal of +the mystery, if we could only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> puzzle them out. Have you noticed what +strange signs there are on them? We think they must be something in +Chinese. Let me give you a little more light and then you can see them +better." And Janet, deeply immersed in the subject and still unconscious +of her blunder, was about to go and open a shutter, when Miss Benedict +quickly raised her hand.</p> + +<p>"Please—er—<i>please</i> do not!" she exclaimed hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I beg your pardon—I forgot!" cried Janet, in confusion, and the +silence at once became more embarrassed than ever. So much so, in fact, +that Miss Benedict evidently felt impelled to explain her conduct. And +she made the first revelation concerning her singular mode of life.</p> + +<p>"I am—er—my eyes are not able to stand it. For years I have suffered +with some obscure trouble in them. I can <i>see</i>, but I cannot stand any +bright light. It hurts them beyond endurance. At home I must have the +rooms darkened in this way. And when I go out,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> even my heavy veil is +not sufficient. Behind it I must also wear smoked spectacles."</p> + +<p>She said no more, but she did not need to. A little inarticulate murmur +of sympathy rose from her listeners. And in the twilight of the room +Marcia glanced quickly and guiltily into Janet's contrite face.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2> + +<h3>VIA WIRELESS</h3> + +<p>It was a week after the events of the last chapter. The girls had gone +regularly every day to visit Cecily. It was Marcia who had finally +mustered up courage to ask Miss Benedict if Cecily could not go into the +garden and enjoy there some outdoor air and sunshine. Miss Benedict had +hesitated at first, but at last she conceded that Cecily and the girls +might sit in the garden if they would go out of the house by a small +side door and remain on that side of the house.</p> + +<p>They found that this door was on the opposite side of the house from +Cecily's room: consequently, they had never seen it. And they soon +discovered one reason, at least, why Miss Benedict wished them to remain +exclusively on that side. It was screened both back and front by thick +bushes and trees. And at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> the side, above the garden wall, rose the high +blank side of a building, unrelieved by a single window. Here they were +as absolutely screened from public view as if they were within the +house. Here also was an old rustic bench and table, and they spent +several happy mornings in the secluded spot, sewing, reading, and +chatting.</p> + +<p>Cecily seemed fairly to open out before their eyes, like a flower-bud +expanding in warm, sunny atmosphere. Only at times now did she show any +trace of the frightened repression of their earlier acquaintance. They +seldom talked abut the mystery surrounding her, because they had +discovered that any allusion to it only made her uneasy, unhappy, and +rather silent. Moreover, further discussion of it was rather useless, as +they seemed to have reached a point in its solution beyond which +progress was hopeless.</p> + +<p>So they talked gaily about themselves and their own affairs, sometimes +of their former home in Northam, the pleasant New England village. +Occasionally Cecily would reciprocate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> by allowing them glimpses of her +life in the obscure little English town from which she had come. Only +rarely did she allude to the circumstances of her present home, and +though the girls secretly ached to know more about it, they were too +tactful to ask any questions.</p> + +<p>One query, whose answer they could not guess was this: who was the other +mysterious old lady, kept so closely a prisoner in her room by Miss +Benedict? And why was she so kept? Marcia and Janet were never tired of +discussing this question between themselves. That it was a relative, +they could not doubt. And they recalled one or two remarks Miss Benedict +had dropped, particularly when she had said: "We—that is—I have some +means."</p> + +<p>The "we" must certainly have referred to herself and the other one. But +could that "other one" be mother, sister, aunt, or cousin? And why was +there so much secrecy about her? Cecily had only said that Miss Benedict +referred to her as "the lady in there who is not very well." But why +conceal so carefully just an ordinary invalid?</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You never can tell, though," remarked Janet, decisively, one night when +they had been discussing the matter with Aunt Minerva. "Were you ever +more stunned, Marcia, than at the reason she gave for having all the +shutters closed? I think it was the most pitiful thing I ever heard, I +could just have sat and <i>cried</i> about it. And it was so different from +all the awful things we'd imagined. Perhaps there is just as good a +reason for this other mystery."</p> + +<p>"But what puzzles me," broke in Aunt Minerva, impatiently, "is why that +woman, if she's so wealthy, doesn't go to a good oculist and have some +treatment for her eyes. They can do such wonders nowadays. Why on earth +does she endure it? I never heard of anything so silly!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's for the same reason that she wouldn't have a doctor when +she hurt her ankle," said Marcia. "She evidently doesn't want a stranger +in the house, even for such important things as those."</p> + +<p>One day Cecily asked Marcia why she never brought in her violin since +the occasion of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> first visit, and requested that she bring it with +her next day and give them a concert.</p> + +<p>So on the following day Marcia came armed with her violin case and also +an interesting new book from the library that she thought Cecily would +enjoy.</p> + +<p>"Let's read the book first," Cecily elected. So, sitting in the secluded +corner of the garden, the three spent a happy morning, reading aloud, +turn about, while the others worked at their embroidery. At last, when +all were tired, Cecily begged Marcia to play, and she laid her book +aside and took up the violin.</p> + +<p>"What shall I play?" she asked. "Something lively?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Cecily. "Play something soft and sweet and dreamy. I feel +just in that mood to-day. It's too hot for lively things."</p> + +<p>Marcia played the Liszt "Liebestraum," and a lovely setting of the old +Scotch song "Loch Lomond," and after that the "Melody in F." And then, +at Cecily's entreating glance, she drifted, as usual, into the +"Träumerei."</p> + +<p>"Do you know," said Cecily, when she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> ended, "I believe I must have +heard that thing when I was a baby. It's the only reason I can think of +that it seems so—so familiar. And yet—unless I'd heard it a great, +great many times then, I don't think it would have made such an +impression on me. And where could I have heard it? Play it again, +Marcia, please."</p> + +<p>Marcia obligingly began, but she had gone no farther than the first few +measures when the door opened and Miss Benedict appeared. She seemed +very much agitated, and her bonnet and veil, donned in an evident hurry, +were slightly awry.</p> + +<p>"I beg you," she began, turning to Marcia, "not to play any more. +I—er—it is—is not because it is not beautiful, but it is—is slightly +disturbing to—some one inside."</p> + +<p>"Why, of course I won't, Miss Benedict," said Marcia, dropping her bow. +"I wouldn't have done such a thing if I'd dreamed it would disturb any +one."</p> + +<p>"It isn't—it isn't that <i>I</i> don't love it," stammered Miss Benedict, +"for I do. But it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> seems to be very upsetting to—" She hesitated, just +a fraction of a moment, and then seemed to take a sudden resolution.</p> + +<p>"—to my sister!" she ended flutteringly, as though the simple admission +carried something damaging with it. It required strong self-control for +the three girls not to exchange glances.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope I haven't done her any harm!" cried Marcia, contritely.</p> + +<p>"No—she—it has just made her a little nervous. She will be all right +soon, I trust. But I noticed that it had the same effect—before," went +on Miss Benedict. "I fear I shall have to ask you not—not to play again +in her hearing. And I am very sorry, both for Cecily—and myself." And +she retreated into the house again, closing the door softly.</p> + +<p>On the way back to luncheon that noon the girls excitedly discussed the +newest turn of affairs and the newest revelation made by their strange +neighbor. And so absorbed were they in this fresh interest and so +anxious to impart it to Aunt Minerva that they scarcely noticed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> she was +laboring under a suppressed excitement quite as great as their own. +Indeed, she paid but scant attention to their recital; and when they had +finished, her only comment was:</p> + +<p>"Very odd—very odd indeed. But you never can guess about the news <i>I</i> +have!"</p> + +<p>"No, no! Of course I can't guess. Tell us—quick!" cried Marcia, +impatiently. "It's something wonderful, I know!"</p> + +<p>Miss Minerva made no reply, but suddenly laid a wireless telegram before +them. Marcia snatched it up and read aloud:</p> + +<p class="center">"<i>Change of sailing-plans. Will be home in two days.</i></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Edwin Brett</span>."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Hurrah! hurrah!" she cried. "Father's coming! A whole two months before +we expected him! <i>Now</i> we'll hear something about the bracelet—and who +knows what will happen after that!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2> + +<h3>THE WRITING ON THE BRACELETS</h3> + +<p>In the joy of seeing her father after months of absence Marcia almost +forgot the mystery of Benedict's Folly. Almost—but not quite!</p> + +<p>Captain Brett had been at home twenty-four hours, and had had time to +give an account of all the intervening weeks, before the subject was +broached. Then the next morning, with a great air of mystery, the two +girls and Aunt Minerva made him sit down and listen to the entire story. +At its conclusion they produced the two filigree bracelets for his +inspection.</p> + +<p>"H'm!" he exclaimed, and, whistling softly under his breath, examined +them with minute care. And then, being a man of few words, he only +remarked: "So you think these were once a pair?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, of course!" cried Marcia. "Don't you?"</p> + +<p>"It looks remarkably like it," he conceded.</p> + +<p>"Do tell us how you happened to get yours!" she begged.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing much to tell," replied Captain Brett. "Happened to be +in Hong-Kong one day, and a ragged-looking Chinese sailor thrust this +under my nose and whined that he'd let me have it for two Mexican +dollars. They're always trying to get rid of things like this when they +want some spare cash. One never knows where they pick them up. I didn't +want the trinket particularly, but I saw that it was a unique little +piece and worth probably much more. So I bought it, tucked it away in my +trunk, and forgot it till I arrived home, when I gave it to you, +Minerva. That's all I know about it."</p> + +<p>"How long ago was that?" asked Janet.</p> + +<p>"Must have been at least twelve years ago. I'm not sure of the exact +year."</p> + +<p>"But what do these things mean?" questioned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> Miss Minerva, pointing to +the strange characters in the silver-work.</p> + +<p>"They're Chinese characters, certainly, but I don't know what they mean. +You see them on lots of their jewelry and gimcracks—generally mean +'good luck,' or 'happiness,' or some such motto. Can't say whether these +mean anything of that kind or not."</p> + +<p>"But tell me, Father, don't you honestly believe that if we could get +these translated—find out what they mean—it might give us <i>some</i> clue +to the puzzle?" Marcia appealed to him.</p> + +<p>"It might—or it might not," he answered skeptically. "So many of these +characters might be meaningless, as far as any personal application was +concerned."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyway, <i>could</i> we get them translated, just for our own +satisfaction?" demanded Marcia.</p> + +<p>"Nothing simpler!" smiled Captain Brett. "My boatswain is a +Chinese—very learned man—reads his Confucius in off hours! He'd be +sure to help you with it."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, goody! And when can we have it done?" cried Marcia, aglow with +anticipation.</p> + +<p>"Well, you're all coming down to visit the ship to-morrow. Bring the +bracelets along, and I'll see that Lee Ching is on hand to give you his +assistance. But—I warn you—<i>don't</i> count too much on what you may +discover from it! I don't want you to have a bad disappointment."</p> + +<p>In spite of which warning, notwithstanding, the girls slept little that +night, so excited were they over the prospect, and, when they did sleep, +dreamed impossible dreams—mainly of quite unintelligible translations +of cryptic Chinese characters.</p> + +<p>The visit to Captain Brett's ship, <i>The Empress of Oran</i>, would have +been an event, apart from any other interest involved in the expedition. +Marcia and Janet had never in their lives been on board of an ocean +steamer. Even the approach to it was fascinating,—the long, covered +wharves with their strange, spicy odors, the bustle and activity of +loading and unloading,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> the narrow gangways, the dark waist of the +vessel, and the immaculate white paint of the decks.</p> + +<p>They examined every inch of the huge steamer, from the stoking-room to +the donkey-engines on the forecastle deck, and spent half an hour in the +cozy, tiny cabin that was the captain's own, marveling at the +compactness and handiness of every detail.</p> + +<p>When they all went up to the after-deck for luncheon, which was served +under an awning, Marcia and Janet could scarcely eat for watching the +deft, silent, sphinxlike Chinese cook who waited on them. They tasted +strange dishes that day, some of which, like curry and rice, were +scarcely acceptable to their unaccustomed palates.</p> + +<p>"Now," said the captain, in the middle of the meal, "if we were only out +on the China Sea or bowling along over the Pacific, this would be just +right. You'd have more of an appetite in that salt air than you do +hemmed in by these noisy docks!"</p> + +<p>But it was not the docks that had stolen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> away the appetites of Marcia +and Janet. They were boiling with impatience to see the boatswain, that +student of Confucius, who could, perhaps, throw some new light on their +mystery. Ambrosia and nectar for luncheon would scarcely have appealed +to them under the circumstances!</p> + +<p>At last, however, the meal was ended with the curious little Chinese +nuts whose meat is almost like a raisin. Then, when the table was +cleared and the captain had lit his cigar, he spoke the word that caused +their hearts to jump and their eyes to brighten:</p> + +<p>"Now I suppose you want to see Lee Ching!" He beckoned to a sailor and +sent him to find the boatswain.</p> + +<p>Lee Ching arrived with promptitude, saluted his captain, and stood +gravely at attention. He was not a young man, and he had a decidedly +Oriental, mask-like face. It seemed strange that he should be dressed in +the conventional boatswain's uniform, with peaked cap and the whistle of +his office. One could imagine him better in some brilliant-hued,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +wide-sleeved Chinese garment, with a long pig-tail down his back.</p> + +<p>"Lee Ching," said the captain, "these young ladies are very much +interested in these two bracelets that have come into their possession. +The characters on them, you see, are in your language. We wonder if you +will be so kind as to translate them for us?"</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 279px;"><a name="ILL_008" id="ILL_008"></a> +<img src="images/ill_008.jpg" width="279" height="400" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">"Words on two bracelets are Identical," replied Lee +Ching, precisely</span> +</div> + +<p>Lee Ching took the trinkets and examined them minutely. Presently he +asked:</p> + +<p>"Will ladies have what say by word of mouth?" The captain was about to +answer yes, and then changed his mind:</p> + +<p>"No. It may be rather important, and we want to remember it accurately. +We would be obliged if you would write it out."</p> + +<p>Lee Ching nodded gravely. "Will captain permit I retire to cabin?" he +requested, and on being dismissed, he retreated with a formal bow.</p> + +<p>"But <i>can</i> he write English?" cried Marcia, when he had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Of course he can, better than he can speak it!" laughed the captain. +"English is child's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> play compared to that brain-paralyzing language of +his! I must say, though, that Lee Ching is rather unusual—as Chinese +sailors go. He's studied in the University of Pekin, reads and writes +English well, and never speaks Pidgin-English. Why he's spending his +life as boatswain of a trading-steamer I don't know. He's fitted for far +different things. But I have an idea it's on account of his health that +he follows the sea."</p> + +<p>The time before Lee Ching's reappearance seemed to the girls +interminable, though, in all probability, it was not more than fifteen +minutes.</p> + +<p>At last, however, he returned, laid the bracelets and a slip of paper in +the captain's hand, and was about to retire.</p> + +<p>"One moment!" said Captain Brett. "Is the writing on the two bracelets +the same?"</p> + +<p>"Words on two bracelets are identical," replied Lee Ching, precisely.</p> + +<p>"That is all, then, and thank you!" And the captain dismissed him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>read</i> it," cried Marcia, "or I shall die<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a><br /><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a><br /><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> of impatience!" and +she hung over his shoulder while he read aloud Lee Ching's queer, +angular handwriting.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill_009.jpg" width="400" height="107" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p>When he had finished, a blank look crept over the expectant faces of the +two girls.</p> + +<p>"Is <i>that</i> all?" cried Janet. And Marcia exclaimed, "Why, how +disappointing! It doesn't tell us a single thing!"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," said the captain, tugging thoughtfully at his short +mustache, while he studied the paper, "I'm not so sure of that!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></h2> + +<h3>PUZZLING IT OUT</h3> + +<p>"To begin with," Captain Brett went on after a long and (to Janet and +Marcia) very trying pause, "we've something to hold on to in just the +date—Sept 25, 1889—and Amoy."</p> + +<p>"What's Amoy, anyway?" demanded Marcia.</p> + +<p>"It's a large seaport in the province of Fu-kien, China, and I've +stopped there many a time myself. Then there's the date of this wedding. +Somebody might possibly remember it. There's just the faintest chance."</p> + +<p>"But there aren't any names given," argued Marcia. "And besides, there +must be hundreds of Chinese weddings going on all the time. I don't +believe you could find any one who could remember just this particular +one!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There are one or two things about this you don't understand, Marcia. +First place, I'm almost certain this isn't any Chinese wedding referred +to here. The Chinese don't do things that way. I know a little about +their customs. It's English or American. You can bank on <i>that</i>!</p> + +<p>"Another thing—about the names. I'm pretty sure that this contains both +names—at least the ones the parties went by in China. You see, the +Chinese have no equivalents in their language for such names as Jones or +Robinson or Brett, for instance. What they do is to take some +characteristic of a person, and give him a name signifying that +characteristic. I strongly suspect that whatever words in Chinese stand +for 'maker of melodies' and 'flower-maiden' are the names the man and +woman were known by there."</p> + +<p>"Then," interrupted Janet, who had been doing some rapid thinking, "the +man must have been some kind of a musician, and the woman may have loved +flowers, or looked like a flower, or something of that sort."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think it extremely likely," agreed the captain.</p> + +<p>"<i>Maker of melodies—musician!</i>" cried Marcia, suddenly hopping up from +her deck-chair in excitement. "Does that make you think of anything?"</p> + +<p>The captain and Janet both looked rather mystified and shook their +heads.</p> + +<p>"Why, <i>Cecily</i>, of course!" exclaimed Marcia. "Don't you remember how +she adores music—and always seems to be remembering something about +that 'Träumerei'? I'll warrant—just anything—that these people who got +married were some relation to her! And besides, didn't she have one of +the bracelets?"</p> + +<p>"It looks as if you <i>had</i> run down a clue," admitted Captain Brett. "But +I'm sorry to say it doesn't help us much in discovering who these +contracting parties were. One point, however, I think it seems to +settle—the question whether the bracelet came into the possession of +your little friend in some such manner as I got the other, or whether it +was hers by right as a family trinket. I believe the latter—almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +beyond question. But now comes the difficulty. How are we going to +unearth anybody who has any remembrance of—"</p> + +<p>Marcia suddenly inspired with an idea, interrupted: "Why not ask Lee +Ching? He's Chinese. Who knows but what he came from just that region?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing like trying," said the captain. "I don't know what province he +hails from, but it won't hurt to ask." And he sent a sailor to summon +Lee Ching once more. When he appeared the captain put his first +question:</p> + +<p>"Lee Ching, what province did you come from?"</p> + +<p>"Fu-kien," came the answer, promptly, and the girls' hopes were raised +sky-high.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever live in Amoy?"</p> + +<p>"No, never lived there—always in hills back beyond."</p> + +<p>"Well, do you, by any chance, happen to know anything about the parties +spoken of in that bracelet translation?"</p> + +<p>"No. Was at sea at date mentioned. Young man then—not very well on dry +land.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> Must live on ship always—or not live. Never was acquainted with +parties mentioned."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. That is all, Lee Ching."</p> + +<p>The bright hopes of the girls were considerably dampened, but Marcia was +not to be downed.</p> + +<p>"Anyway," she argued, "you've other Chinese sailors on board. Why +couldn't we question them all? We might find <i>some</i> one who knows."</p> + +<p>The captain was rather dubious about it. "Yes, the cook and four sailors +are Chinese. You can question them if you like, but I'm afraid it won't +be much satisfaction. They're an appallingly ignorant lot! But I'll have +them summoned."</p> + +<p>In a few moments the five were lined up, and, true to the captain's +estimate, a hopeless-looking lot they were. After much confused +questioning in Pidgin-English it developed that the cook and two sailors +were from the province of Shansi, a third from Kiang-su, and the two +others from nowhere in particular that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> they could seem to remember. +None of them knew anything about Amoy beyond the squalid shops about the +wharves.</p> + +<p>The captain dismissed them all with a disgusted wave of his hand and +turned to the girls.</p> + +<p>"You see how worse than useless it is to try and find out anything from +such sources! I knew it would be so, but I didn't want to discourage +you. Now you just leave me to myself for half an hour to smoke in peace +and do a little thinking. Go and look at them unloading, or roam around +and amuse yourselves in any way you like. Perhaps, if I rack my brains +hard, something will occur to me."</p> + +<p>They left him pacing up and down on the deck, puffing at his cigar, +while they went to explore the great ship all over again. But the +occupation, though fascinating, failed to keep their thoughts from the +latest phase of the queer mystery that surrounded Cecily Marlowe.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," said Marcia, as they stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> looking down into the well of +the vast engine-room, "it seems simply impossible to me to connect +lovely, dainty, English Cecily with anything so oriental as China. I +can't understand it. I can't imagine any connection. Can you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can't," admitted Janet. "And, more than that, where does Miss +Benedict come in on this Chinese proposition? Nothing could be less +connected with it than she! I believe she'd have a fit if she ever saw +that awful-looking crowd of Chinese sailors your father had there a +while ago. Did you ever see such a rascally looking lot? And poor little +Cecily would be horrified!"</p> + +<p>"I liked Lee Ching, though. He's so grave and serious and dignified. And +isn't his English fascinating? I just love to hear him talk. But oh, I +wish Father hadn't sent us away for half an hour! I can hardly wait for +the time to pass! Let's go and look at those men on the dock unloading. +Why do they make such a racket? You'd think there was a fire or +something!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>So they whiled away the time, and at last, promptly on the minute, raced +back to Captain Brett.</p> + +<p>"Well?" demanded Marcia, breathless. "What now?"</p> + +<p>"Just had a happy thought!" The captain threw the stump of his finished +cigar over the rail. "I've been trying to think whom I could remember +meeting in China during the past years—some responsible person who +might know these people or be able to track them down. Suddenly recalled +old Major Goodrich. He was an English military attaché stationed at +Hong-Kong for a while, and I got to know him rather well. He was retired +some years ago, and the last I heard of him he was living in this +country, somewhere in Pennsylvania, with his only daughter, who happened +to have married an American. If anybody were likely to know anything +about this business it would be he, for he knew everybody and everything +worth knowing about in Amoy at the time. I'll look up his address and +write to him to-night. Now I hope that satisfies you both!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Father, you're a trump!" cried Marcia, blissfully. "I <i>knew</i> you'd get +right to the bottom of this mystery at once."</p> + +<p>"Hold on! Don't count your chickens before they're hatched!" warned the +captain. "This is only a possibility—not a <i>probability</i>. The major may +know nothing whatever about it. But look here! it's high time we were +heading for home. We don't want to be late to dinner."</p> + +<p>They reached the apartment, bursting with news to tell Aunt Minerva, but +were met at the door by that lady, flushed, flustered, and very much +excited.</p> + +<p>"Such a state of affairs!" she cried. "An hour ago I received a telegram +from Cousin Drusilla in Northam saying she was very ill indeed and +wouldn't I come up at once, as she was virtually all alone. Of course +I've got to go. I can't leave her there sick without a soul to look +after her. But what on earth are you all going to do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, go right along, Minerva! The girls and I will get on famously. They +can try<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> their hand at housekeeping, and you've a good maid in the +kitchen to help. Don't you worry a minute!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but—" began Aunt Minerva.</p> + +<p>"You've got just fifteen minutes to catch the Boston express," said the +captain, decisively, looking at his watch. "Give me that suitcase and +come right along."</p> + +<p>Aunt Minerva, who had really been all packed and ready for the past +twenty-nine minutes, meekly obeyed.</p> + +<p>"I won't be gone more than a few days," she remarked, as she kissed the +girls good-by. "I'll get some one to take my place with Drusilla just as +soon as I can. Don't let Eliza boil the corn too long, and tell her—" +The sentence was never finished, for the captain at that point gently +but firmly led her into the hall and closed the door.</p> + +<p>And, though the girls suspected it not, this sudden departure of Aunt +Minerva had more bearing on the mystery they were trying to solve than +any of them dreamed!</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2> + +<h3>ONE MYSTERY EXPLAINED</h3> + +<p>Meantime, Cecily Marlowe, immured in the lonely house, had been having +an experience all her own. And when the girls came to see her, the day +after the visit to the ship, she too was bursting with news. But she +quietly waited till they had told their own tale, and was as puzzled as +they about the strange translation of the characters on the bracelet. Of +anything pertaining to China or the Chinese she had not the remotest +notion, and could not understand how it could have any connection with +her affairs.</p> + +<p>"Now you must hear <i>my</i> story," she began, when they had discussed the +newest development till there was nothing left to discuss. "It's about +Miss Benedict. She has—but just wait, and I'll begin at the beginning. +It was two nights ago, and she had one of those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a><br /><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a><br /><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> headaches. She has +such very bad ones, you know. She says they are from her poor eye-sight, +and she suffers terribly.</p> + +<p>"Well, she had a worse one than usual, and so she was obliged to call me +into her room and ask me to fetch things for her. I sat by her and +bathed her head and fanned her, and at last she fell asleep. Even then I +didn't go away, but sat there fanning and fanning her for a long time, +till finally, after a couple of hours, she woke up.</p> + +<p>"She was very much better then, and presently she began to talk to me +quite differently from what she ever had before. First she asked me if I +were contented and happy here. I said I tried to be, but I was very +lonely sometimes. She didn't say much to that, but suddenly she spoke +again:</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 295px;"><a name="ILL_010" id="ILL_010"></a> +<img src="images/ill_010.jpg" width="295" height="400" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">"Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life +I lead!"</span> +</div> + +<p>"'Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life I lead, don't +you?' I said, yes, I couldn't help wondering about it. Then she turned +away her head and whispered:</p> + +<p>"'Oh, if you only <i>knew</i>, you would not wonder! I have been very +unhappy. My life has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> been very unhappy!' All I could think of to answer +her was that I was so sorry, and she need not tell me anything she +didn't wish to. I would never ask about it. And she raised herself up in +bed, and said:</p> + +<p>"'That's just it, dear child. I have always supposed that young folks +were one and all curious, inquisitive, and thoughtless. That is one +reason I was so—so strict with you—in the beginning. But you and those +two nice girls next door have been a revelation to me.'</p> + +<p>"Wasn't that lovely of her?" exclaimed Cecily, interrupting herself.</p> + +<p>"Just darling!" cried Marcia. "But do go on, Cecily. We're crazy to hear +what came next!"</p> + +<p>"Well, next she said: 'People think I live a very singular life, I know. +They think I'm eccentric—queer—crazy, even! Oh, <i>I</i> know it! But there +are few alive to-day—and none in this neighborhood—who even guess at +the real reason, who—remember!' And then she put her hand to her head +as if it was aching badly, and dropped back on the pillow. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> was very +quiet for a while, but at last she looked up again and said: 'Little +Cecily, would you care to have a home with me always? Would you be +willing to put up with my queerness and peculiarities, and some of the +strange conditions here?' And I answered, indeed, yes; if I could go out +once in a while and visit you girls occasionally, I should very much +like to stay. And she said:</p> + +<p>"'Of course you shall, dear. You have been dreadfully shut in here, but +that was before I knew you so well. I was not sure I <i>wanted</i> to keep +you before, but now I know that I do. I only ask you to be as +considerate of me as you can. Some day, I feel certain, I shall lose my +sight. I know that it is coming. When it does come, I shall have to +depend very, very much on you. I and one other. You will not fail me +then, will you, Cecily?'</p> + +<p>"Girls, I could have cried then and there—I felt so <i>sorry</i> for her. +And I told her she could <i>always</i> depend on me, no matter what happened. +I had no other home and no one else to care for me except you girls. +And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> after that she told me the story about herself—at least, some of +it. I can't tell it in her words, so I'll use my own. But this is it:</p> + +<p>"A great many years ago, when this house was new, she lived here with +her father and an older sister and a younger brother. They were all very +happy together, and the brother was the pride and joy and hope of the +whole family. But one time he had a violent disagreement with his father +(she didn't tell me what it was about), and she and her sister took +sides with her father against the brother. After that they had the same +disagreement a great many times, and at last one so bad that the young +man declared he wouldn't endure it any longer, and threatened to leave +home.</p> + +<p>"They didn't believe he was really serious about it, but the next +morning his room was vacant, and a note pinned to his pillow said he had +gone away never to return. They felt awfully about it, of course, but +that wasn't the worst. About two weeks later they received word that he +had taken passage on a steamer for Europe, and after only a day or so +out he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> was discovered to be missing, so he must have fallen overboard, +or been washed over and drowned. Wasn't that frightful?"</p> + +<p>Janet and Marcia looked horrified. "What did she do then?" they +whispered.</p> + +<p>"That's the most dreadful part," went on Cecily. "The shock was so great +that the father died a week afterward—the doctors said virtually of a +broken heart. So there were two gone, and within a month. The two that +were left, Miss Benedict and her sister, shut themselves up and went +into mourning and saw almost no one. For a while they were paralyzed +with grief. And then, little by little, very gradually, they began to +realize that people were talking about them—saying dreadful things. One +of the few friends they <i>did</i> see let drop little hints of the gossip +that was going on outside. People were saying that they were to blame +for it all, and that they probably weren't so sorry as they pretended to +be, for now they could enjoy all the money themselves. Can you imagine +anything so horrid?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, but that's nonsense!" interrupted Janet impatiently. "How could any +one say it was their fault?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know how people talk," replied Cecily. "They meant that by +nagging and quarreling they had driven the brother away on purpose, and +then made it so unpleasant for the father that he couldn't stand it any +longer either. It wasn't said in so many words, but just little hints +and allusions and shrugging shoulders and all that sort of thing. But +the meaning was there underneath it all, as plain as anything.</p> + +<p>"Their grief and the horrid talk about them made them feel so very badly +that they determined to live in such a way that no one could accuse them +of enjoying an ill-gotten fortune. So they shut up the house,—at least +a large part of it,—and dismissed all their servants, and did most of +the work themselves. After a while the few friends they had began to +drop away, one by one, till no one came to see them any more.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And then one day, two or three years later, the older sister had a +paralytic stroke and lost her memory. She's been shut up in that room +ever since, and Miss Benedict takes care of her. She can sit up in a +chair and knit, and she likes to have a chess-board on her lap, and move +the pieces around, because she once loved to play the game with her +younger brother. But she can't remember anything—not even who she is +herself, and nothing about what has happened. Miss Benedict feels +terribly about her, especially about her not remembering anything, and +she says that is why she didn't tell me about her at first. It seemed so +terrible.</p> + +<p>"She says all the friends and relatives they had are dead and gone now, +so no one knows the real reason for their queer life. And as the years +have passed she has grown more and more into the habit of living this +way till it seemed quite natural to her—at least it did till I came; +and now she is beginning to realize again that it <i>is</i> queer. And she +was so afraid of gossip and talk that when you first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> wanted to be +friends with me she would not allow it, for fear of starting more +unpleasant inquiries into her life."</p> + +<p>"But what about her poor eyes?" asked Janet.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! About ten years ago she began to have those terrible pains in +her eyes, and then she had to darken all the house and wear the veil and +dark glasses outdoors. She went to a doctor about them, but was told +that the case was hopeless unless she had some complicated operation and +spent months in a dark room. This she felt she couldn't do on account of +her sister, whom she <i>would</i> not leave to a stranger's care. So she has +just suffered ever since.</p> + +<p>"That's all, girls, except that she told me her sister's name is +Cornelia and that hers is Alixe. I'm to call her Miss Alixe after this. +It makes me seem a little nearer to her."</p> + +<p>"What a pretty name—Alixe!" commented Marcia. "It just seems to suit +her, somehow. But isn't that the saddest story? It just goes to show how +unhappy we can make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> people by talking about them and their affairs."</p> + +<p>"And oh! there's one thing more. Miss Benedict—I mean Miss Alixe—gave +me permission to tell you all this, but she only asks that you will not +repeat it except to your father and aunt. She says she knows you can be +depended on to do this."</p> + +<p>That day, before Janet and Marcia left, they encountered Miss Benedict +in the hall. And, by the way she pressed their hands in saying good-by +they felt that she knew Cecily had told them her story, though she made +no reference to it.</p> + +<p>"Cecily may run in and visit you a while to-morrow. I think the change +will do her good," she remarked at parting. And that was the only hint +she gave of a change in the affairs of "Benedict's Folly."</p> + +<p>When Janet and Marcia were at last outside the gate they gazed up at the +forbidding brick wall and drew a long breath of wonder.</p> + +<p>"So <i>that</i> is the story!" breathed Marcia. "What an awful thing—that +two people's lives should be spoiled just by unkind gossip!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Janet was thinking of something else. "I wonder why Miss Benedict +didn't tell what the family had the disagreement about!" she queried.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a></h2> + +<h3>MAJOR GOODRICH ASSISTS</h3> + +<p>During the week following Aunt Minerva's departure, the two girls had a +busy life, taking charge of the unaccustomed tasks of housekeeping.</p> + +<p>But with all their absorbing occupations, the three were waiting on +tiptoe of expectation for a reply from Major Goodrich. And even Captain +Brett could scarcely conceal his impatience as the days went by and no +answer came.</p> + +<p>At last one morning the mail-box contained a letter postmarked from +Pennsylvania, and Marcia carried it upstairs two steps at a time.</p> + +<p>It was from the major. He wrote:</p> + +<blockquote><p>Is there any way you can think of to furnish me with an idea of +what the Chinese for that expression, "maker of melodies," +<i>sounds</i> like? The only way that occurs to me is to see whether, +by any faint chance, Lee Ching could write it in that Romanized<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +Colloquial, used by the missionaries. That might give me an idea. +It's a hundred chances to one, he doesn't know it. If so, just +spell it out for me yourself in English—the nearest you can get +to it.</p> + +<p>The reason I want to know it is this: there was a young fellow in +Hong-Kong at the British military station, a military aide of +promise, who had a magnificent singing voice. Every one went wild +over him there. He was the life of the garrison and in social +circles as well. Many an evening we spent listening to one of his +impromptu recitals. But what makes me suspect that he may be the +one we're after is that he foolishly went and married the daughter +of a Chinese mandarin from one of the Hong-Kong yamêns. He had +been the means of rendering the father some very important +service, and met the daughter quite by accident. The whole affair +was a rather remarkable story, but I haven't time to detail it all +to you now.</p> + +<p>I saw the girl just once—afterward. She was a fascinating little +creature, with the golden butterfly pins in her black hair, and +her rich silk robe hung with jewels, and her tiny bound feet. But +the young fellow's family back in England was furious about it. +Eventually, he cut loose from them entirely. Then he and his wife +drifted away from the Hong-Kong region up to Amoy, and finally +dropped out of sight. I imagine he adopted the Chinese customs and +habits and got to live at last very much like a native. I've never +heard of him since, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> I've a notion he could be hunted up if +he's still alive. His name was Carringford—Jack Carringford, we +used to call him.</p> + +<p>The point, however, is that the Chinese called him by a name of +their own, signifying "eminent singer," or something of that +sort—very much the same kind of expression as that used on the +bracelet. And after a while we all got to calling him by it—or +some abbreviation of it—pretty regularly. I can't recall just +what it was now, for I haven't thought of it in years. But I +believe I'd recognize it if I saw it written out in Colloquial or +any other English version! Get me that, and I'll soon put you on +the right track!</p> + +<p>Mightn't the little girl possibly be the daughter of Carringford?</p></blockquote> + +<p>"No, she <i>mightn't</i>!" interrupted Marcia, indignantly, at this point. +"Does Cecily Marlowe look like a Chinese mandarin's daughter's +daughter?" And certainly, with her golden curls and big blue eyes and +the English roses in her cheeks, they had to admit that she did not!</p> + +<p>"And besides that," added Janet, "her name isn't <i>Carringford</i>!"</p> + +<p>"That doesn't always signify," remarked the captain. "It looks to me +like a rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> clear case if we find that the Chinese name agrees with +the major's recollection of it. I'd go down to the ship to-day, but Lee +Ching is on shore leave, and won't be back till to-morrow. I'll see him +then, and find out whether he knows anything about this Romanized +Colloquial. I rather doubt it myself. It's not much used outside of the +missions, I understand."</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> 'Romanized Colloquial,' anyway?" demanded Marcia. "It sounds +very mysterious!"</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't a bit mysterious," answered Captain Brett. "In order to +understand about it, however, you must know this fact about the Chinese +language. The <i>written</i> character is the same—<i>means</i> the same—all +over the kingdom. But it isn't <i>pronounced</i> the same in any of the +different provinces. In fact, the spoken dialects are like entirely +different languages. It seems that the dialect of the Fu-kien province +has been reduced to a written form by the missionaries and called +Romanized Colloquial. It has been in use for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> a good many years, but it +isn't especially recognized by official or diplomatic circles. But a +good many of the Chinese boys who attend the mission-schools learn it +there. It's just possible that Lee Ching may have done so, as he came +from that region. We can only wait and see. If he doesn't know it, he +<i>may</i> be able to write out the Chinese equivalent in some form of +English script."</p> + +<p>The next day the captain went down to the <i>Empress of Oran</i> and returned +with a beaming face and a sheet of paper written on by Lee Ching.</p> + +<p>"He knew it all right!" he announced. "Learned it as a boy in the +mission-school at <i>Chiang-chiu</i>. Here's what he wrote." And he held the +sheet of paper for the girls to see. "He's put the Chinese characters at +one side. They have to be read from top to bottom, you know. Next to +them is the Romanized Colloquial, and alongside of that the English +translation. Quite a pretty piece of work that!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 262px;"> +<img src="images/ill_011.jpg" width="262" height="400" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Gracious!" cried Marcia, frowning over the queer jargon. "I can't make +a thing out of it—or at least I couldn't if he hadn't put the English +right alongside of the others. Oh, this must be the name!—'chok-gàk ê +lâng'-'maker of melodies.' Did you <i>ever</i> hear of such heathenish +sounds? Well, now we'll see what Major Goodrich has to say to that. +Father, will you send it right off to him?"</p> + +<p>"At once!" announced the captain. "I'm just about as anxious as you +folks, now, to get this mystery explained."</p> + +<p>But the singular thing was that somehow the girls could not bring +themselves to tell Cecily much about these latest developments. They +thought it would make her feel strange and anxious to realize that there +was a possibility of her being in any way related to a Chinese +mandarin's daughter.</p> + +<p>"And besides," remarked Janet, suddenly, when they were discussing it, +"that's perfectly impossible, anyway, because her mother was English, +and Cecily has lived with her all these years. So this talk about +mandarin's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> daughters and things is perfectly ridiculous!"</p> + +<p>"That's so!" echoed Marcia, in relief. "I didn't think of it at first. +But, anyway, let's not tell Cecily about it till we know more. I do wish +Aunt Minerva were here! I haven't written her about all this because +there's so much to explain. I'd rather wait and tell her when she gets +back. She said she was only going to be gone a little while, and here +it's nearly two weeks!"</p> + +<p>In three days an answer arrived from the major, and, as luck would have +it, Cecily herself brought the letter upstairs with her as she came in.</p> + +<p>"The postman was just going to drop it in your box," she explained, "and +I asked him to let me take it to you, and save you the trouble of coming +down for it." And she held it out to the captain.</p> + +<p>"Aha!" he cried, as he caught sight of the writing. "<i>Now</i> we'll hear +some news! Why—what's the matter?" He had just glimpsed Marcia and +Janet frantically signaling to him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> behind Cecily's back. "Don't you +want me to open it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not now," explained Marcia, as nonchalantly as she could. "I want +Cecily to come out to the kitchen and help us make some fudge. Later +will do." And she dragged the wondering Cecily down the hall, while the +captain stared after them muttering, "Well! of all the—"</p> + +<p>Cecily stayed rather late that afternoon. And for the first time in all +their acquaintance, the girls were not sorry to have her go, so wild +with anxiety were they to hear the major's letter. No sooner had the +door closed upon her than they rushed back to the captain.</p> + +<p>"What does he say?" they clamored.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h2> + +<h3>THE MAJOR HAS A FURTHER INSPIRATION</h3> + +<p>The captain, who was puffing at his pipe, appeared serious. "I don't +like the looks of this thing at all," he muttered, reaching in his +pocket for the letter.</p> + +<p>"But what did he say? Tell us quick!" cried Marcia. "We've been nearly +crazy there in the kitchen waiting to have Cecily go so we could hear +what he says!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad she did go first," acknowledged the captain, "for +somehow I wouldn't care to have her hear just yet what the major has to +say. He thinks— But I'll read his letter, and you can understand what I +mean. Here it is:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"About the Chinese name first. The one you sent does certainly +have a familiar sound to me, especially the last two syllables. I +distinctly remember that the name Jack Carringford was called by +ended<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> in <i>e lang</i>, or something that sounded amazingly like it. I +wouldn't bank on that entirely, however, for the Chinese language +is the most confusing and idiotic jargon ever invented by the mind +of man, and there might be a dozen other words ending the same and +meaning something entirely different.</p> + +<p>"Here's a fact more to the point, though. Since writing to you +last I've been busy communicating with several old chums of the +China days. What I've been trying to find out is, does any one +know what has become of Carringford? By the third year after his +unfortunate marriage he had pretty well dropped out of sight. +Still, I thought I knew of one or two who might have kept some +track of him even after that. One of them, Danforth Pettingill, an +old chum of Jack's, is now living in New York, and I thought he'd +probably know as much as any one. So I wrote him at the very +start, and yesterday received this answer. It seems that +Carringford and his wife lived with her father for some time—till +about two years after their marriage, when a little daughter was +born. Then the old mandarin, who was fearfully annoyed because the +baby was not a boy (girls being of no earthly account in China, as +you know!), made it so unpleasant for the couple that they finally +left his establishment. It was then that they began their roaming +existence, terribly hampered by the baby, of course, and never +remaining long in any city.</p> + +<p>"At last, the wife contracted the plague and died<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> very suddenly, +and Carringford was left alone with the baby on his hands. It was +at this time that he dropped completely out of sight, and +Pettingill never heard from him again. He thinks, however, from +very substantial rumor, that Carringford went back to England, +taking the child with him. He didn't go to his own folks, though, +that's certain; for Pettingill has heard from them occasionally, +and they never mention him. There was another rumor afloat about +him for a time, that he had taken to earning his living by singing +at cheap concerts under an assumed name. All of which might be +entirely likely. But what became of the child, Pettingill never +knew—nor any one else, I'm afraid. Well, that's all I've +ascertained up to date, but I'm still on the track, and if I hear +any further news, I'll let you know at once."</p></blockquote> + +<p>When the captain stopped reading, all of them looked very serious, and +no one said a word for several minutes.</p> + +<p>"You see," he began at last, "why I don't like the looks of the thing. +This seems to cover almost all the points we've been in doubt about, +though of course, it <i>does</i> leave quite a little to conjecture. I +somehow dislike to think of little Cecily as a mixture of Chinese and +English. In fact, it's almost impossible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> to think of her as such. And +yet it seems remarkably near the truth."</p> + +<p>"If that man assumed a name," interrupted Marcia, "I suppose it might as +easily be Marlowe as anything else."</p> + +<p>"Just as easily," admitted Captain Brett.</p> + +<p>"And he went back to England—just where Cecily came here from," added +Janet, lugubriously.</p> + +<p>"But then why doesn't Cecily remember something about him?" cried +Marcia, hopefully.</p> + +<p>"He may have been dead a good while, or he may have sent her off +somewhere else," answered the captain, dashing this hope. "He wouldn't +be likely to drag a child about in any such life as he must have had to +lead."</p> + +<p>They all sank into a depressed silence again. Suddenly Marcia had +another idea.</p> + +<p>"But look here!" she exclaimed. "Major Goodrich says that man was at +Hong Kong and the bracelet says 'Amoy,' as plain as plain can be. Isn't +that enough proof that it can't be the same one?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>Again the captain had to dampen her hopes. "They might have gone to Amoy +to be married," he said. "It's entirely possible. You can't tell +anything about that."</p> + +<p>"And besides," put in Janet, "you got the bracelet at Hong Kong, didn't +you, Captain Brett? So if it really belonged to those people, it was +still pretty near home."</p> + +<p>"Well, it is useless to conjecture about these things," added the +captain. "What bothers me most of all is the question of what earthly +connection all this can have with Miss Benedict. There doesn't seem to +be the least likelihood that the Carringfords were any relations of +hers, and unless Cecily was simply sent there on a chance, because it +was known that she was a wealthy woman and might be willing to provide +for the child, I'm quite at a loss to explain it."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if there is any way we could find out?" mused Marcia.</p> + +<p>"I know a very good way," declared Janet. "Simply ask her."</p> + +<p>"What? And explain all this strange business<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> about Cecily's parents +right away?" demanded Marcia.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Just ask her if she ever had any connections in England named +Carringford. She'll say either yes or no to that. And if she says yes, +why then we'll know we are on the right track and can think what to do +next."</p> + +<p>"Janet's advice is pretty good," asserted Captain Brett. "And if I were +you, I'd put the question to Miss Benedict the next time you see her. +It's about the only way I can think of now to solve this riddle."</p> + +<p>And so it was decided that the very next day, when the girls expected to +go and visit Cecily, they should ask Miss Benedict the dread question.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Cecily met them at the gate the next afternoon. "Oh, I'm so glad you've +come!" she cried. "I'm really very lonely. Miss Benedict is going to be +away all the afternoon because she has some business to attend to. She +says we can sit in the garden."</p> + +<p>At this piece of news the girls' faces fell.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, what's the matter?" questioned Cecily. "Don't you care to? I +thought you'd be rather pleased."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, it will be fine!" declared Marcia, striving to hide her +disappointment at the news that Miss Benedict would not be visible that +day. She and Janet had counted so positively on having one at least, of +their vexed questions settled immediately that it was difficult to feel +they must wait two or three days more. For on the morrow Cecily was to +visit them, as they now spent alternate days in each others' houses, and +the day after, Captain Brett had promised to take the three of them on a +trip up the Hudson.</p> + +<p>All that afternoon, however, Marcia and Janet were noticeably +inattentive and absent-minded. Once Marcia, who was reading aloud to the +others, stopped short in the middle of a sentence, and remained for +three whole minutes gazing off at nothing. And at this, Cecily could +contain her wonder no longer.</p> + +<p>"Girls, are you, by any chance—annoyed at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> me?" she ventured. Marcia +suddenly dragged herself back to the affairs of the moment.</p> + +<p>"Of course not, deary. How could you think such a thing?" she declared +heartily.</p> + +<p>"Then something else is the matter," insisted Cecily. "You are worrying +about something. I never knew you to act so strangely. Now tell me, +aren't you?"</p> + +<p>Marcia glanced uneasily at Janet. "Well, yes, we are," she admitted +reluctantly. "But please don't ask us anything about it just yet, +Cecily. Something that has come up lately seems kind of queer and—and +unpleasant. But it may turn out all right in the end, so we don't want +to tell you till we know positively."</p> + +<p>Cecily looked alarmed. "Is it—is it anything about me?" she faltered. +"But perhaps I oughtn't to ask." Marcia looked terribly unhappy at this +question, and Janet came to her rescue.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is, Cecily," she declared with assumed cheerfulness. "Captain +Brett has stumbled across something that seems as if it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> might have some +connection with your affairs. But we don't want you to hear about it +till we are positive. Now don't worry about it, because I'm perfectly +certain everything is going to turn out all right. You won't worry, will +you?" She put her arm around Cecily and laid her cheek against the +golden hair.</p> + +<p>"No, I'll try not to," Cecily assured them, "and I'll promise not to ask +you another thing about it till you're ready to tell me yourselves." +After that she settled down quietly, but it was apparent to the girls +that, in spite of her assurances, she was worried and nervous and +unhappy. Presently Janet had an inspiration.</p> + +<p>"You two sit here. I'm going out for a few moments," she announced, +determined to break the tension of unrest and nervousness by some +diversion. Nor would she reveal to them what her errand was to be. She +returned in twenty minutes, however, with a box of delicious French +ice-cream and some dainty cakes. And for the next half-hour they had a +gay time in the garden, serving and consuming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> the welcome treat. In the +end they had temporarily quite forgotten the unhappiness of the earlier +hour, and when they returned home the two girls left Cecily laughing and +cheerful.</p> + +<p>Nor did she, all through the ensuing two days, refer in any way to their +conversation in the garden. If the matter worried her, she gave no sign, +and the girls could not help admiring her self-control.</p> + +<p>Three days later, Marcia and Janet went again to spend the afternoon +with Cecily, and found to their relief that Miss Benedict was at home. +At least, they learned the fact from Cecily. The lady herself they did +not see when they entered. And indeed, there was a chance, that they +might not have so much as a glimpse of her during their visit, for it +frequently happened that she was not visible during an entire afternoon.</p> + +<p>Would she speak to them that day? That was the question. And, what was +even more important, would they have a chance to speak to her unobserved +by Cecily? For they did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> not wish the girl to overhear what they had to +ask, nor even to know that they were seeking an interview with her +guardian.</p> + +<p>For the major part of the afternoon it did not seem as if their wish +would be granted. Miss Benedict did not appear, and so nervous and +anxious were they that they could scarcely keep their thoughts on the +conversation that Cecily was striving to keep up or, later, on the book +they were reading. Cecily had declared that her room seemed very warm, +so they were sitting once more in the garden. This also was a +disappointment, for it lessened considerably their chances of seeing the +lady of their hopes.</p> + +<p>Half-past five came round, and still they had not attained their wish. +Marcia had just risen, with a resigned sigh, to propose that they take +their departure, when the side door opened and Miss Benedict appeared. +At the sight of her the hearts of Marcia and Janet gave a delighted +thump, and they greeted her with a pleasure, the warmth of which she +could not entirely understand.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + +<p>But now came the problem of getting Cecily out of the way for a time. It +was evident that she had no intention of leaving them of her own accord. +And it was Marcia's happy idea that solved this riddle.</p> + +<p>"Cecily," she suddenly inquired, "do you happen to have finished that +book I lent you last week?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! I finished it last night. I meant to return it to-day," said +Cecily. "Wait a moment and I'll get it from my room. You must be anxious +to finish it yourself, I know." And she hurried indoors, unconscious of +the unutterable relief with which they watched her go. When she was out +of sight, Marcia turned to Miss Benedict.</p> + +<p>"Please pardon me for asking a personal question," she began hurriedly, +"but it is only because we think it is something that concerns Cecily. +Did you ever have, in England or anywhere, any relatives or—or even +friends by the name of Carringford?" Miss Benedict was bonneted and +veiled as usual, so they could not see her face. And they would have +given<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> much to have been able to read her expression when she heard this +question.</p> + +<p>But she answered, very promptly and positively: "No, I never knew of any +one at all by that name. Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>They could hear Cecily's footsteps returning down the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Only because we have discovered something in connection with people of +that name, that seems to concern Cecily," Marcia explained hastily. +"Sometime we will tell you all about it. We thought perhaps you'd know +them. Please—please don't tell Cecily we've spoken about it—just yet." +Miss Benedict had only time to signify that she would follow their +request, when Cecily appeared in the doorway and the interview was over.</p> + +<p>As they walked home later they both admitted to a feeling of intense +relief that Miss Benedict, at least, knew nothing about any +Carringfords.</p> + +<p>"Of course, her not knowing them doesn't <i>prove</i> anything," declared +Janet. "But one thing is certain. If she <i>had</i> known them, it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> would +have been positive that all this horrid story is connected with Cecily. +But as she doesn't, it gives one more chance that it has nothing to do +with her."</p> + +<p>As they entered the hall of the apartment, the captain called out to +them from the living-room:</p> + +<p>"Hurry in, girls! There's another letter from the major waiting for +you!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a></h2> + +<h3>THE UNEXPECTED</h3> + +<p>The major's letter did nothing, however, to lighten the gloom. On the +contrary, it only increased it tenfold. The main substance of it was in +this paragraph:</p> + +<blockquote><p>It's singular how much you can dig out about a subject, once you +put your mind to it. I thought at first that I had told you all +that was known about Jack Carringford and his affairs—all that +could be discovered. But the deeper I go into it, the more I seem +to unearth. Yesterday another friend to whom I had written, on the +off-chance of getting a little information (but from whom I really +didn't expect much) sent me this bit of news. It seems he heard it +said that after Carringford went back to England he married again, +and it is thought that he did not live very long after,—died +suddenly of pneumonia, or something like it, in an obscure town in +the north of England. Perhaps this will help you some in your +amateur detective work. If I glean any more information, I'll let +you know at once. I rather enjoy this delving into the past.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, horrors!" exclaimed Marcia. "Could anything be plainer than this is +getting to be? Of course, that explains it all! Cecily didn't remember +her father, and her 'mother' was really her stepmother. I wonder if she +knows it. She never mentioned it, but then she seldom speaks of her +mother, anyway. Though I always thought, from the way she acted, that +she was very fond of her."</p> + +<p>"It certainly grows more convincing with every added piece of news we +hear," mused the captain. "I wish we <i>could</i> find some loophole for +thinking that this tangle doesn't concern Cecily. But how on earth she +can have any Chinese ancestry, beats me. She doesn't show a trace of it. +One would certainly think she'd have almond eyes and coarse, straight +hair, or a dark complexion, or <i>something</i>! It's the one thing that +gives me the slightest hope that she can't be Carringford's daughter."</p> + +<p>"But what shall we do now?" questioned Janet, bringing them back +abruptly to the affairs of the moment.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The first thing to do," declared Captain Brett, "is to question Cecily +about her father and mother, and see what <i>she</i> knows. She may recall +something that will give us another clue. If this proves to be the right +trail, we've got to follow it up, get into communication with the +Carringfords in England, and see if they will do anything about her. +They ought to be willing to provide for his daughter. But we'll have to +be very sure of our facts, or they'll pay no attention, I suppose. +Somehow or other we'll have to trace out Carringford's career in England +after he returned. I wish I knew the name he assumed, but no one seems +to be able to tell us that."</p> + +<p>"But even <i>still</i>, we haven't the slightest clue to the reason why +Cecily was sent to Miss Benedict," mused Marcia.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, we have something new now," interrupted Janet. "Hasn't it +occurred to you that Mr. Carringford's second wife might have been some +connection of the Benedicts, or known them, or something?"</p> + +<p>"Sure enough! sure enough!" cried the captain,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> thumping his knee. "This +puts the thing in an entirely new light. We must find out a little more +about that second wife. You get what you can from Cecily, but do be +careful how you question her. The child is sensitive, and was apparently +very fond of the lady she called her mother. Try not to probe too +deeply. And remember to explain to her that you are not asking just out +of idle curiosity, which she'd be perfectly right in resenting."</p> + +<p>It was with no very pleasant anticipations that Marcia and Janet looked +forward to their interview with Cecily next afternoon. How to approach +the subject without giving her a clue to the real state of affairs, they +were puzzled to know. Plan after plan they formed, only to reject after +thinking them over. "Suppose Cecily should ask this," or "What if Cecily +should inquire why we say that?" spoiled every outline of the +conversation that they could imagine. At last Janet declared:</p> + +<p>"It's perfectly useless to think now what we'll say, or what she'll +answer. Let's just wait till the time comes and say what seems<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> best at +the moment. The whole conversation may be entirely different from +anything we plan."</p> + +<p>"I guess you're right," sighed Marcia. "I'm tired out thinking about it, +anyhow." And so they put it all aside till Cecily's arrival.</p> + +<p>When she came, that afternoon, she found two very serious and thoughtful +friends awaiting her. One thing at least, they had determined,—not to +put off the dreaded interview till later in the day, but have it over at +once and get it off their minds. So when they were all comfortably +seated in Marcia's cozy room, Janet began:</p> + +<p>"Cecily, would you mind very much if we asked you a few questions? You +remember, the other day, we said that something had come up concerning +you, we thought, and we would tell you about it later. Well, we aren't +quite ready to tell you <i>all</i> about it yet, but it would help a great +deal if you'd answer a few questions about yourself. Will you?" And she +felt an immense sensation of relief, after these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> words were spoken, at +having at least taken the first plunge.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course!" assented Cecily, wonderingly. "That is, if I possibly +can."</p> + +<p>"And you'll remember that we aren't asking just out of curiosity, but +because it may help to untangle your affairs?" interrupted Marcia, +anxiously. Cecily only smiled and squeezed her hand, as if an answer to +that were unnecessary.</p> + +<p>"Well, dear," said Janet, in a hesitating voice, "could you tell us +whether you know this: was your father ever married twice?"</p> + +<p>Cecily started and flushed a little. "Oh, I—I don't know anything about +such a thing!" she murmured. "I—I don't think so. You see, he died +before I remember anything about him, and my mother never spoke of him +to me very much."</p> + +<p>"Then she never told you anything about that?" went on Janet.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Cecily, very positively.</p> + +<p>"Now, I have one more question to ask that I'm afraid may startle you, +but please don't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> attach too much importance to it. Was the lady you +called mother your real mother or your stepmother?"</p> + +<p>This time Cecily fairly jumped. "Oh, no, no!" she cried. "I'm sure, I'm +very sure she was my own mother. She would certainly have told me if she +had not been. I would have known it. Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"That, you know, is what we can't just explain yet," answered Janet, +evidently distressed. "Were you very, very fond of her, Cecily?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, yes!" replied the puzzled girl. "How could I help but be? She +was so lovely and sweet and good to me, and seemed to live only for my +comfort and happiness. I never dreamed of such a thing as her not being +my own mother." There were real tears in Cecily's eyes as she made this +declaration. Marcia and Janet experienced as unpleasant a sensation as +if they had been compelled to torture a helpless kitten. And yet the +task must be gone through with and there were further queries to make.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do forgive us for all this, Cecily," begged Marcia. "It hurts us +horribly to make you feel badly. We wouldn't do it for the world if +there weren't a good reason. But can you tell us this? Was there +anything your mother ever said or did that would in any way suggest that +she might not be—your own mother? Think hard, Cecily dear."</p> + +<p>The girl sat a long while, chin in hand, staring out of the window at +the tightly shuttered expanse of "Benedict's Folly" opposite. No one +spoke, and the others made a vain pretense of working hard at their +embroidery. But the hands of both shook so that the stitches were very, +very crooked indeed. At last Cecily turned to them and spoke in a very +subdued voice:</p> + +<p>"These things are making me very unhappy, but I know you only mean them +for my good. My mother did say one or two things that I thought nothing +of at the time, but now, since your questions, seem as if they may have +another meaning. One was this. We were looking in the mirror together +one time, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> I said how queer it was that I didn't look a bit like +her. I was so fair and light-haired, and had rosy cheeks, and she was +dark and her eyes were brown and her hair almost black. She smiled and +said:</p> + +<p>"'No, it isn't very strange when you think—' and then stopped very +suddenly and flushed quite red. And I asked her what she meant, but she +only replied: 'Oh, nothing, nothing, dear! Children often look very +different from their parents, not at all like them.' And she wouldn't +say any more. I thought it strange for a while, but soon forgot all +about it. I can't imagine now what she meant, unless it was—that. The +only other thing I remember is this. I asked her one time whether, when +I was a tiny little baby, I wore pink or blue bows on my dresses. She +was very busy about something at the time and she just said, sort of +absent-mindedly, 'I don't know I'm sure.' And then she added, in a great +hurry, 'Oh, I don't remember! Pink, I guess.' I thought it strange that +she should forget how she dressed me, for she always had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> a very good +memory. But I forgot that, too, very soon. That is all."</p> + +<p>Marcia and Janet glanced uneasily at each other. The information seemed +to confirm their worst apprehensions. But Janet went on:</p> + +<p>"Just one more question, dear, and we'll stop this horrid inquisition. +Can you tell us what was your mother's maiden name, the name of her +people?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Cecily. "It was Treadwell. But she hadn't any people +left—they were all dead, and she was the last one of her family. But, +oh! can't you tell me, girls, why you have had to ask all these +questions? I have waited so patiently, and I have worried so about it +all. And what you have said to-day has made me feel worse than ever."</p> + +<p>"Dear heart, we don't want to tell you quite yet," soothed Marcia. "It +wouldn't do you any good to know about it till we're positive beyond a +doubt. It isn't anything so very terrible, anyhow. Nothing to worry +about at all. But just something we wish might be a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> little different. +And nothing could possibly make the least difference in the way we care +for you, anyway, so just don't worry another bit. Now I'm going to play +for you." And she drew her violin from its case.</p> + +<p>Marcia gave them quite a concert that afternoon, rendering selection +after selection to please them, glad indeed of the diversion and relief +from the unpleasantness of their accomplished task. But she did not play +the "Träumerei," for some reason not very well defined even to herself, +but vaguely connected with recent disclosures. At last Cecily herself +asked for it, and then, of course, Marcia could not refrain from +obliging her. When it was over, Cecily took her departure, and the +girls, left alone, plunged at once into the discussion of the most +recent developments of the mystery.</p> + +<p>That evening Captain Brett and the two girls held a council of war.</p> + +<p>"There's no denying," he said, "we've discovered the most important +thing yet in learning that name—Treadwell. We've something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> to work +from now. With that to start from, I can set on foot some inquiries over +in England that may establish her identity. And you must ask Miss +Benedict (though I hate to be constantly troubling her in this way) if +she has any recollection of some one by that name who could possibly +have any claim on her. Do this as soon as possible. We're certain to get +at the root of the matter very soon now."</p> + +<p>"Do you think," asked Marcia, "that those remarks of her mother's that +Cecily repeated look as if we were right in believing it to be her +stepmother?"</p> + +<p>"It certainly seems so to me," he acknowledged. "Of course, we must +remember this. When you have a suspicion that certain things are so, +every little circumstance and every lightest remark seem to confirm you +in that belief. Often these things have absolutely no bearing on it +whatever, but you <i>think</i> they have, simply because you fear that they +have or want them to have. So we mustn't be misled by chance remarks. I +will admit, however, that these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> particular ones seem singularly to bear +us out in our conjectures."</p> + +<p>"Well, do let's get some of these things settled to-morrow," sighed +Marcia. "I'm losing so much sleep over it that I'm beginning to feel +like an owl. I just worry and worry all night long it seems to me. Let's +ask Miss Benedict about the name of Treadwell when we go there, if we +can possibly manage to see her."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to disappoint you about that," interrupted the captain. "But +I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to remain at home to-morrow. I'm due +downtown on some errands that will take me to a number of places. And at +the same time, I'm expecting an important business message over the +telephone. I shall have to ask you to be here without fail to take the +message for me. I can't trust Eliza to get it right. So you'll have to +put off your visit for another day. But don't be too much disappointed, +for while I'm away I shall be making inquiries as to how we must go +about tracing the name of Treadwell in England. That will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> be something +accomplished." And with this consolation the girls had to be content.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Janet, next morning, when the captain had gone and they had +resigned themselves to a long day of waiting, "I have a plan to propose. +Let's not talk or even <i>think</i> a thing about all this business to-day. +If we do, we'll only make ourselves more miserable than we are. I found +a perfectly fascinating new book in the library yesterday. Let's sit and +read it, turn about, and see if we can't both finish those centerpieces +we've been working on so long. We'll have to work like everything to do +it. That ought to keep our minds off of our troubles. And we'll +telephone for some French pastry for dessert at luncheon, and some candy +for this afternoon."</p> + +<p>The plan seemed to offer pleasant possibilities, and they both settled +themselves comfortably in the cool living-room to pass the morning. The +book was well begun and the embroidery advancing rapidly, when Eliza +came in with a letter just left in the box, and deposited it on the +library table.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's for the captain," she announced, as she turned away. Marcia jumped +up and scrutinized the writing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Janet!" she exclaimed at once; "it's from the major!"</p> + +<p>"It is?" cried her friend, apprehensively. "Then it's some more horrid +news he's unearthed. I'm certain of it! Not a letter comes from him but +it's something to worry us more. I just hate the sight of them!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and what's more," moaned Marcia, "we can't even know what's in +this one till Father comes home this evening. Why, I feel as if I'd go +crazy, having to wait all that time!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll have to wait," commented Janet, philosophically, "so you +might as well do it as peacefully as you can. Come, let's go on with our +book."</p> + +<p>It was all very well to speak philosophically about the matter, however, +but to <i>act</i> so was a different affair. Try as they might, they could +not, from that moment, concentrate their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> minds on the pleasant program +they had mapped out for themselves. A dozen times during the morning +Marcia would stop reading and glance speculatively at the unopened +letter. A dozen times Janet left her fancy-work and strolled over to +inspect the superscription anew. The French pastry at luncheon failed to +soothe them, and the candy in the afternoon remained uneaten.</p> + +<p>At three o'clock they took to staring out of the window to watch for the +captain's return. And as they watched they detailed to each other the +various things they surmised might be in the major's letter. Marcia +asserted that he had probably discovered the second wife's name to be +Treadwell, thus confirming their worst fears. And Janet declared that he +had no doubt ascertained just why Cecily had been sent to the Benedict +home. Perhaps it was even to prevent her being sent back to China to her +mandarin grandfather. Nothing they could imagine was too dreadful to fit +into the scheme of things. By half past five they were the most +miserable pair of girls in the big city.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> And at that moment, they heard +the captain's key in the hall door.</p> + +<p>"Quick! quick! quick!" they breathlessly panted at him, explaining +nothing, but only waving the major's letter in his face. Asking no +questions, he took it, slit it open, and glanced hurriedly through the +contents. Then he gave a long, low whistle.</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell us!" groaned Marcia. "What more that's quite horrible has he +found out?"</p> + +<p>For answer the captain sat down and laughed till the tears stood in his +eyes. At last he managed to gasp: "Well, of all the dances I've ever +been led, this is the worst and most foolish! But it's just like the +major. He always was the most impulsive chap. You'll be delighted to +know that he's made one more discovery—and that is that he has been +'barking up the wrong tree,' as they say. Here's what he writes:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"It occurred to me yesterday, in connection with this affair, to +look up some of the old diaries I used to keep in the China days. +They have been stored away in the attic in a chest for years, but +I got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> them out and have been running over them, hoping to come +across an entry that might have some bearing on the matter in +question. And, quite to my chagrin, I did discover this. I will +quote it, just as it stands: <i>Today Carringford was married +according to native customs. None of us invited.</i></p> + +<p>"But here's the point of departure, so to speak. This entry was +made on March 10, 1890, and you see it doesn't agree at all with +the inscription on your bracelet, which is, I believe, September +25, 1889. So, of course, the only inference that can be drawn is +that they were two separate and distinct affairs that have +absolutely no connection. So sorry! Anything else I can do for +you, I'll be delighted, etc., etc."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The captain did not finish the remainder of the letter, for the +excellent reason that no one of his audience was paying the least +attention to it.</p> + +<p>When he looked up, at this point, Marcia was prone on the couch +alternately sobbing and laughing and sobbing again, and Janet was +staring out of the window, blinking hard to restrain the tears of relief +that would insist on rolling down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>And in the midst of this curious state of affairs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> who should open the +door and walk in but—Aunt Minerva! Suitcase in hand, she stared at the +three in amazement for a second till, with a glad cry of recognition, +they all rushed upon her and literally snowed her under with embraces.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't let you know I was coming, because I didn't know myself till +this morning," she explained. "Drusilla's sister Ellen came in +unexpectedly from the West, and of course that relieved me. I just +packed up in half an hour, and here I am. Whatever is the matter with +you all? When I came in you looked as if you'd just attended the funeral +of your last friend. I hope Eliza hasn't given you all indigestion!"</p> + +<p>"We'll tell you after dinner, Minerva," laughed the captain. "It's a +long and complicated tale. My, but we're glad to see you again!"</p> + +<p>That evening they made her sit down and listen while they rehearsed the +story. It had to begin with the description of their day on shipboard, +the very day that she had gone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> away, and ended with the major's final +letter.</p> + +<p>She listened to it all very quietly and without any comments whatever, +except for an indignant and scornful sniff once in a while.</p> + +<p>"Well," demanded Marcia, when it was over and they were waiting for her +to speak, "what do you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"I think," she remarked cryptically, "that you needed Minerva Brett here +to manage this affair for you. <i>She</i> would have given you a little +better advice than to go off on a wild goose chase down to Pennsylvania +on the wrong trail!"</p> + +<p>They stared at her in open-mouthed amazement.</p> + +<p>"You might explain yourself, Minerva," mildly suggested the captain.</p> + +<p>"I <i>might</i>, but I'm not going to!" she replied firmly. "At least, not +just at present." And with a tantalizing smile, she sweetly bade them +all good night and departed to her room.</p> + +<p>"Janet," said Marcia, that night, as she curled her arms up over her +head on the pillow, "isn't it heavenly to go to sleep with that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> horrid +weight lifted from your mind? We seem to be just as far as ever from +solving the riddle about Cecily, but at least, the darling isn't the +granddaughter of a mandarin! But, do you know, I can't help but wonder +where that poor little granddaughter is, and what became of her. She +sort of seems like a real person to me now."</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder about her, and what's more, I don't care," sighed Janet. +"As long as it wasn't Cecily. What's puzzling me is how your aunt +expects to solve the riddle? What can <i>she</i> know about it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't bother about <i>that</i>," returned Marcia, "because I'm glad +to let somebody else have a hand in working at it now. I'm content to +leave it to Aunt Minerva!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a></h2> + +<h3>AUNT MINERVA TAKES COMMAND</h3> + +<p>For an entire week thereafter Aunt Minerva went her own mysterious way, +calm and unruffled herself, but keeping the rest of her family on +tenter-hooks of excitement.</p> + +<p>She wrote mysterious letters which she would allow no one but herself to +mail, and received mysterious replies, the contents of which she kept a +dark secret. They watched her with the feeling that they were quite +outside the game now, and that she had the keys of the situation +entirely in her own hands. Which was indeed the truth!</p> + +<p>At last one day, after receiving a particularly bulky communication, she +deigned to speak.</p> + +<p>"Can you carry a message for me to Miss Benedict?" she inquired of +Marcia and Janet.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" they replied eagerly, but humbly.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ask her if she could possibly grant an interview in her own house to +the four of us here—and one other. It's very important."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aunt Minerva, you <i>know</i> she never receives <i>any</i> strangers in the +house!" expostulated Marcia.</p> + +<p>"I know that, of course. And you told me the reason, which I quite +appreciate. But there's bound to come a time, even in her peculiar +experience, when it's expedient to break a rule like that. The time has +come now, and you can tell her that I'm sure she'll be very sorry if she +does not grant this request. The matter intimately concerns her, or I +would not dream of intruding on her."</p> + +<p>"Well, you may as well tell <i>us</i> what you've been concocting, Minerva," +interrupted Captain Brett. "You've kept us in the dark about long +enough, haven't you? And if I'm to go in there with the procession, I'd +like to know a thing or two about where I'm at, instead of sitting +around like a dummy! And who is this 'other one' you allude to, anyway?"</p> + +<p>Miss Minerva laughed at his impatience.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> "You may well ask, Edwin! I +think you must have been about as blind as a bat not to see right along +what struck <i>me</i> the very first minute after you told me what the +jig-saw things on that bracelet meant! As soon as I heard the word +'Amoy' the idea jumped right into my mind. About two months ago I heard +a most wonderful address by a Dr. Atwater, a medical missionary from +China, whose headquarters are at the hospital in <i>Amoy</i>. And you can +easily see that I thought of him at once, when—"</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" thundered the captain, striking his knee with his fist, "what +a jolly goose I've been not to have thought of the <i>missions</i> there at +once!"</p> + +<p>"I should say you were!" commented Miss Minerva, caustically. "You and +the major together!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see I've never come in contact with them much—" began the +captain, apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Never mind that now," went on Miss Minerva. "I thought of Dr. Atwater +right away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> He's been there many years, and knows something about most +every one in the region, I guess. Anyhow, I decided that I'd get his +address (he's in this country on a year's furlough) and write to him +about this queer case. And I did. And he has answered me—"</p> + +<p>"And were you right?" they all interrupted.</p> + +<p>"I was <i>so</i> right," she announced triumphantly, "that I've asked him to +come and tell this story (which he has only outlined in his letter) in +full to Miss Benedict. And I want you all to be there to hear it. And +what's more, I'm not going to tell you another word about it till you +hear it from him, so it's no use to tease for hints! Go right in and ask +Miss Benedict when she can arrange for this interview—the sooner, the +better!"</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It was not an easy matter to persuade Miss Benedict to grant Aunt +Minerva's request. She was shy and timid about receiving strangers, and +her affection of the eyes, as well as her curious manner of living, made +it hard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> for her to do so. She had to acknowledge that it would be even +harder to see them elsewhere. Nor could she believe that the affair +really concerned <i>her</i>, except very indirectly—through Cecily, perhaps. +It was for Cecily's sake alone that she at last gave a reluctant +consent, assigning the following Wednesday afternoon as the appointed +time. And the intervening two days was spent by them all in a restless +fever of expectation—all, at least, except Aunt Minerva!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>On Wednesday afternoon, Dr. Atwater arrived at the apartment and was +taken in charge at once by Miss Minerva, who guarded him like a dragon +lest a hint of the important secret should slip out before the appointed +time. He was a tall, angular man with a gray, Vandyke beard, and his +face was grave in repose. But he talked brightly and interestingly and +had the jolliest laugh in the world. The girls thought him very unlike +their preconceived notions of a missionary. He and the captain +fraternized at once, exchanging tales<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> of the Far East to which Janet +and Marcia listened in absorbed wonder.</p> + +<p>But at last Aunt Minerva was ready, and the "procession" (as the captain +insisted on calling it) filed into the street and proceeded to the gate +of "Benedict's Folly." So unusual was the sight of the little crowd +waiting to be admitted, where no admittance had been granted in so many +years, that every passer-by stared at them open-mouthed.</p> + +<p>Miss Benedict opened the gate, bonneted and veiled as usual, and Marcia +made the introductions as best she could, to which Miss Benedict's +replies were murmured so low that no one could hear them. Then she led +the way to the house and into the darkened parlor, where they all sat +down, with a sensation of heavy constraint. After that, Cecily came in +and was presented to Dr. Atwater. He started slightly when he saw her, +and looked into her face long and scrutinizingly in the dim light.</p> + +<p>When Miss Benedict had removed her bonnet and veil Aunt Minerva broke +the silence:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Miss Benedict, I have brought Dr. Atwater here because I have +discovered that he has something to tell you—something that will be of +intense interest to you. I know this may seem incredible, but I can only +beg that you will do us the favor to listen."</p> + +<p>Miss Benedict inclined her head without speaking, and Aunt Minerva +continued:</p> + +<p>"You have heard, I believe, about the curious incident of the bracelets, +but I do not know whether you have heard about the translation of the +strange characters on them."</p> + +<p>Miss Benedict murmured that she had not, and Miss Minerva explained it +as briefly as she could. Then she went on:</p> + +<p>"Dr. Atwater, here, is a medical missionary from Amoy, and I have found +that he not only knew the owner of the bracelets, but has some personal +recollections about them that we think will concern you. Will you listen +to Dr. Atwater, if you please?"</p> + +<p>Miss Benedict again bowed in assent, and Dr. Atwater began in an easy, +conversational tone:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Miss Brett has remarked correctly that I knew the owner of the +bracelets, and all about the characters on them, and a good deal of the +story connected with them. By sheer chance, or rather, perhaps, I ought +to say by very good reasoning, she has hit on about the only person +living now who does know anything about them! Here's the story:</p> + +<p>"A good many years ago in Amoy—I was quite a <i>young</i> doctor then—I was +thrown in with a clever young fellow who had recently landed there, +having come on a sailing-ship from America. He seemed rather at loose +ends, so to speak,—didn't know the language, didn't have any money, +didn't know what to do with himself, didn't have any occupation, and +spent most of his time wandering aimlessly about the town.</p> + +<p>"He was a fine, upstanding, straightforward chap (he said his name was +Archibald Ferris), but he evidently had something on his mind, for he +was gloomy and depressed. It began to worry me for fear he'd drift into +trouble if he kept on that way. So I tried to get him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> interested in my +own work, and invited him to go around with me on some of my long tours. +We didn't have any hospital then, and I had to go about from town to +town doing my medical work as I went. He came with me very gladly, and +was of a good deal of assistance, and we grew to be firm friends. But I +realized there was something he was pining for, and after a long while +he confessed to me what it was.</p> + +<p>"He wanted a <i>violin</i>! He adored music, played well, but had lost or +parted from his instrument in some way. (He didn't explain that, just +then.) Well, a missionary's salary isn't munificent, so I couldn't very +well grant his wish out of my own pocket, much as I wanted to. The best +I could do was to get him a position in a Chinese tea-exporting house in +Amoy, where he could earn the money himself. It was better for him to be +regularly occupied, anyway.</p> + +<p>"After a few months he had saved a sufficient sum, and sent off to +Shanghai for his coveted treasure—he couldn't wait to get it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> over from +America! After it came he was actually happy—for a while. He <i>was</i> a +marvelous musician for his age, I'll admit, and he could hold us +spellbound an entire evening at a time with his bow. The natives adored +him, and gave him the name 'Chok-gàk ê lâng' or 'maker of melodies.'</p> + +<p>"Well, he had the musical temperament, and after his violin came he +couldn't stay long in the tea-house, but got to going about with me +again on my tours—always with his precious violin. He was really of the +greatest assistance, because his music was almost as good as an +anæsthetic in many instances—could calm the most excitable fever-case I +ever came across.</p> + +<p>"It was on one of these tours that he met young Miss Cecily Marlowe at +the English mission in Sio-khé—"</p> + +<p>At this point every one gave a little start of surprise and looked +toward Cecily, who alone sat gazing, wide-eyed and absorbed, at Dr. +Atwater.</p> + +<p>"She was a wonderfully beautiful girl," he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> continued, "with a color +like English roses in her cheeks. The Chinese called her +'Flower-maiden,' or 'Hor-lú.' She had but recently come to the mission +from her home in England. Well, it was a case of love at first sight on +both sides! And before many more months Ferris announced to me that he +was going back into the position at the tea-house and there earn enough +money to be able to marry her. But he also told me that Miss Marlowe, +while very much in love with him, was still very devoted to her work +there and very earnest about the cause for which she had left her home +and come so far to serve. She insisted that, if they married, she must +still be allowed to continue in the missionary work. To this he was +perfectly willing to assent.</p> + +<p>"So they were married in the English mission at Amoy, and on the +wedding-day he gave her this pair of bracelets which he had had made +after his own design. They were not an expensive gift, but he was poor, +in worldly goods, and it was the best he could afford. After the +honeymoon they built a little home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> on the island of Ko-longsu, right +near the city of Amoy. He went on with his work in the tea-house, and +she with her teaching in the mission-school on the island.</p> + +<p>"It seemed an ideal arrangement, and they were ideally happy for a +number of years. He never advanced very far in the tea-house, for he +loved his music too well and he had no head for business. But he made +enough to keep them comfortably, and more they did not want.</p> + +<p>"Then about 1898, I think, came a change. To their great joy a little +daughter was born to them. She was a beautiful baby, and for over a year +there was no happier home in all China. But one day, when the baby was +about a year and a half old, Ferris came to me and told me he was in +trouble and wanted my advice.</p> + +<p>"He began by telling me that the baby seemed to be drooping and that he +himself was not feeling quite up to the mark. I looked them both over +and found he was right. The climate was too much for them. It is for +many foreigners sooner or later. I told him they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> ought to go home for a +year or so and recuperate. He said he couldn't—didn't have any home to +go to, in fact. Had long ago quarreled violently with his people, and +would never go back to them. Moreover, he had his wife and baby to +consider. He couldn't afford to give up and lose his position. If he +did, what were they to do?</p> + +<p>"I suggested that they go to his wife's people in England. He said there +was difficulty in that direction, too. She had only a married brother +and his wife, and they had not approved of her giving up all her +prospects to come to China as a missionary. They heard from them only at +long intervals, though recently, to be sure, they had offered to take +care of the little girl if the time came that she needed change of air.</p> + +<p>"Ferris told me that he and his wife naturally could not bear to +consider such a thing, but on the other hand, the baby's welfare must be +their first consideration. What should I advise them to do?</p> + +<p>"I considered the matter carefully, and at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> last told him he'd better +accept the offer to care for the baby for a year or so. She, at least, +would be provided for, and he and his wife could then take their chances +without imperiling her future. To follow this advice nearly broke their +hearts, but the next missionaries who went back to England on furlough +took the baby with them, and gave her into the care of the brother and +his wife. It is needless to say that Cecily Ferris is the same whom we +know as Cecily Marlowe. I would recognize her anywhere, for she is the +image of her mother." And he looked toward the girl sitting in the dim +light, held by the wonder of his story. The silence that ensued was +broken first by her.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, if you please," she half whispered, "did my father ever—ever +play to me on his violin? Do you know what he played?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I'm sure he did," smiled Dr. Atwater. "I used to stop at his house +early in the evening sometimes, and I generally found him fiddling away +by the side of your cradle. Mostly it was an air he called 'Träumerei,' +or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> something like that. I'm not very good at remembering musical +names."</p> + +<p>"I knew it!—I <i>knew</i> I'd heard it somewhere, over and over again, when +I was little!" she cried. "And yet I never could remember anything else +about it!"</p> + +<p>"He used to say it was his favorite," remarked Dr. Atwater.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Miss Benedict spoke, for the first time during the recital. +There was a tremble of suppressed excitement in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Is that all the story?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" resumed Dr. Atwater. "There's not much more to tell, but I'm +sorry to say, the rest is not very cheerful. After the baby's departure +Ferris's health failed perceptibly. He finally gave up his position, but +Mrs. Ferris kept on with her work and nursed him as well. But the strain +of all this began to tell on her, and at last, in 1900, I advised her to +take a holiday, and go north to Tientsin with her husband to recuperate. +We missionaries raised enough among ourselves to finance this little +vacation for them. Before he went, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> Ferris had a long talk with +me one day, and confided to me a few things about himself and his past. +To begin with, he said that Archibald Ferris was not his right name. He +had assumed it at a certain period of his life because he had broken +away from his family, and did not deem it best that what remained of +that family should ever know he existed. They probably thought him +dead—in fact he was sure that they did. And his return to existence, so +far as they were concerned, would simply complicate family affairs. Only +his wife knew who these relatives were. He had recently, however, sent +word to his wife's brother that should anything ever happen by which +Cecily would be left alone, she should be sent to America and placed in +the care of this family, whose name he had given them under the seal of +secrecy, if the brother and his wife were unable or unwilling to provide +for her. He also sent one of the bracelets to England to be given to his +little daughter, requesting that she be always allowed to keep it. The +mother always wore the other one.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He was very much depressed that day, and told me, besides, that his +career had been wrecked in the beginning—that he had dreamed of being a +great violinist, but had been thwarted in strange ways. However, he +declared that his life in China had been happy beyond words, except for +the unhappy present. Then he bade me good-by, as he was starting for +Tientsin the next day."</p> + +<p>Dr. Atwater stopped abruptly and swallowed hard, as if what he had to +tell next came with an effort. He went on presently. "It was at the time +of the Boxer uprising. Ferris and his wife had almost reached Tientsin +when the trouble broke out there, and—they were never seen alive +again!" He stopped, and there was a tense silence in the room.</p> + +<p>At last he continued: "I have always blamed myself for having been the +unwitting cause of their death. I had advised them to go to Tientsin, +though of course I could not foresee the dark days that were about to +come. I wish with all my soul that I had not done so, that I had, +perhaps, sent them somewhere else,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> but it is irrevocable now. There is +no use dwelling on the past.</p> + +<p>"Doubtless that is how the other bracelet came to be cast loose on the +Oriental world. Probably it was stolen at the time, and passed from hand +to hand till it came into the possession of Captain Brett. It is a +strange coincidence that brought it back at last to its mate!</p> + +<p>"It became my sad duty to notify Mr. Marlowe of the tragedy. In his +reply—a frank, manly letter—he expressed his regret that a difference +of opinion had ever interrupted the cordiality of his relations with his +sister and her husband, and said that, as he and his wife already loved +little Cecily devotedly, they would adopt her as their own. They were +reluctant to have her childhood shadowed by her parents' sorrowful +story, and so believed it best that she should never know that she was +not indeed their daughter, Cecily Marlowe.</p> + +<p>"Well, that is the story of the man who called himself Archibald +Ferris," said Dr. Atwater. He looked about him inquiringly and added: "I +hope that my telling it has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> given all the enlightenment that was +expected?"</p> + +<p>During his long recital every one had sat with eyes fastened upon him, +and no one of his audience had a thought for the other. Now that it was +over they each drew a long breath and settled back in their chairs. And +then, for the first time, they noticed the curious conduct of Miss +Benedict.</p> + +<p>She was sitting far forward in her chair, her big gray eyes almost +starting from her head, her hands clutching the arms of the chair till +the blue veins stood out. On her forehead were great beads of +perspiration, and she drew her breath in little gasps. Quite unconscious +of their united gaze, she leaned forward and touched Dr. Atwater's arm +with an imploring hand.</p> + +<p>"Was there—was there no way of—of ascertaining his <i>real</i> name?" she +stammered.</p> + +<p>Dr. Atwater looked at her with compassion in his kindly eyes. "I know of +but one thing that might have served as an identification," he conceded. +"When I was giving him the medical examination, I noticed on his left +upper arm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> two small initials surrounded by a tiny row of dots. They +were just such a mark as small boys often tattoo themselves with in +indelible ink, and of course, they are there for life. Doubtless he had +so decorated himself with his initials in his boyhood days—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, what <i>were</i> the initials?" interrupted Miss Benedict in a stifled +voice.</p> + +<p>"They were 'S. B.,'" replied Dr. Atwater.</p> + +<p>With a little choking cry, Miss Benedict buried her face in her hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it can't—it <i>can't</i> be <i>possible</i>!" they heard her murmur. Then in +an instant she had collected herself and gazed about at them all, +amazement and incredulity in her lovely eyes.</p> + +<p>"My friends," she spoke very quietly, "I cannot understand what this +means. My brother's name was Sydney Benedict, and I remember when, as a +boy, he had tattooed those initials on his left arm, as Dr. Atwater has +described them. And he performed wonderfully on the violin, and dreamed +only of being a great artist some day. He longed to go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> abroad and +study, but my father would not hear of it. He wished his only son to +enter his business and continue it after him. They were both +high-tempered and had many terrible quarrels about it. I—my sister and +I—sided with my father. At last my father threatened to disinherit +Sydney if he did not accede to his wishes. And on the following +morning—it was his twenty-first birthday—we found only a note pinned +to his pillow, saying he had gone away forever. He had taken with him +only his violin.</p> + +<p>"But," and here she hesitated, gazing around inquiringly on the company, +"I cannot understand what follows. Two weeks later we received word from +a steamer that had just arrived in Europe from New York, that a young +man named Sydney Benedict had fallen or jumped overboard one night when +they were two days out, and his loss was not discovered till next day. +Only his violin remained in the cabin. He was certainly lost at sea. I +cannot understand—" She suddenly pressed both hands to her head as if +it pained her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wait a moment!" cried Dr. Atwater. "I believe I can explain that. I +should have told it before, but I quite forgot; there was so much to +tell. He did once confide to me (apropos of some little adventure we had +had together on one of my trips, when I almost lost my life) that he too +had once had the narrowest kind of escape from death. He said that on +leaving America he had taken a steamer for Europe, hoping to find the +means to study there. They hadn't passed Sandy Hook, however, before he +became violently seasick, and lay in his berth like a log for +twenty-four hours. On the second night it became so stiflingly hot in +his cabin that he felt he must get to the deck for air or die.</p> + +<p>"So he struggled out and up the companionway, somehow, meeting no one, +for it was very late. On the deck he crawled in behind a life-boat, and +lay in a rather unprotected outer portion of the deck, so sick that he +scarcely knew where he was or how dangerous was the spot he had chosen. +All of a sudden the vessel gave an unusually heavy lurch, and before he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +could clutch for any hold he was catapulted into the sea.</p> + +<p>"Curiously enough, the sudden ducking dispelled his horrible sickness, +and when he came to the surface he found himself striking out to swim. +Useless to shout for help from the great steamer, which had already +passed a boat's length beyond him. But he was a strong swimmer, the +night was warm, and he resolved not to give up till he <i>had</i> to.</p> + +<p>"All night, till dawn, he managed to keep on the surface, swimming and +floating. And at daylight a sailing-vessel picked him up, numb and +weary, and ready to go to the bottom at the next stroke. The ship on +which he found himself was bound for China, and of course he had to 'tag +along,' working his passage as a common sailor in return for his keep. +It was then, I suspect, that he made up his mind to change his name. I +think, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Archibald Ferris and Sydney +Benedict are one and the same person!"</p> + +<p>At this Aunt Minerva, who hadn't spoken a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> word since her speech of +introduction, put on her glasses and swept the assembly with a +triumphant gaze. The girls and Captain Brett were so absorbed that they +could not utter a syllable, and Miss Benedict sat back in her chair in a +stunned silence.</p> + +<p>Only Cecily seemed unconscious enough of the strain to do the natural +thing. She rose from her chair and went over to Miss Benedict, dropping +down on her knees beside her, and snuggling her head on the older +woman's shoulder with a confiding movement.</p> + +<p>"I'm Cecily <i>Benedict</i> now," she said simply, "and I—I love you—Aunt +Alixe! I'm glad there <i>was</i> a good reason why I was sent over here to +you!"</p> + +<p>Miss Benedict looked down at the golden head, and the terrible tension +in her face relaxed.</p> + +<p>"Sydney's child!—my little Cecily!" they heard her murmur.</p> + +<p>But they heard no more, for at this point, Aunt Minerva arose and +majestically motioned the entire company out of the room!</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</a></h2> + +<h3>SIX MONTHS LATER</h3> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Janet dear</span>:</p> + +<p>I know you think I'm a wretch not to have written in so long! but +honestly, things have been happening so fast that I don't have +time to sit down and write you about one event before a brand-new +one has taken place.</p> + +<p>I've missed you horribly ever since you went back to Northam. It +was a shame that you had to leave just after the grand clear-up of +our mystery, for you've been missing some of the most wonderful +parts—all the lovely things that have happened since.</p> + +<p>I think I've already written you about some of the changes that +have taken place in "Benedict's Folly." It's the most remarkable +thing—the way Aunt Minerva has taken that place—Miss Benedict +and all—completely under her wing! Miss Benedict (who, by the +way, wants us both to call her Miss Alixe) seemed completely +helpless for a while after the "great day," and turned to Aunt +Minerva for pretty nearly everything,—principally advice! You can +imagine how Aunt Minerva is enjoying herself! She just loves +nothing better than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> managing people's affairs for them—if they +want her to!</p> + +<p>In the first place, Aunt Minerva advised her to get the house into +livable condition, and find suitable servants, and get some modern +clothes. And as poor Miss Alixe acted like a lost kitten in going +about it, Aunt Minerva just took hold and managed the whole thing. +And you'd never recognize our dilapidated old house of mystery +now, it's so changed and so lovely. Miss Alixe has decided that +now there is no further reason for her not using their large +fortune, and everything must be the nicest possible—for Cecily's +sake.</p> + +<p>And Cecily!—what a darling she is! Of course we are simply +inseparable. She has even begun to go to the high school with me, +because Miss Alixe <i>and</i> Aunt Minerva have decided that it will be +better for her than studying with a private tutor. She is the +happiest thing I ever saw, and says she feels as if she were +living in a fairy-story all the time! We are just longing for the +Easter vacation to come, and your visit. Then we three can be +together again in the good old way. Won't it be glorious?</p> + +<p>But this is all aside from the other two big pieces of news I +wanted to tell you. Almost from the beginning Aunt Minerva has +been urging Miss Alixe to go to a first-class oculist and have her +eyes examined. And at last, a few weeks ago, they went together, +and what do you suppose is the result? He said that almost without +a doubt her sight can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> be restored, with proper treatment and +possibly a slight operation later. She began the treatment at +once, and already her sight is much improved. She can stand a +stronger light, and has those awful headaches less frequently. You +see, it was years since she had had any advice about them, and +they've made great strides in treatment of the eyes since then. +They can almost do the impossible. We are all so happy about it!</p> + +<p>And now for the last and biggest piece of news! Perhaps you are +wondering what has become of Miss Alixe's mysterious and invisible +older sister, and it is about her that I'm going to tell you. You +will never in the world be able to guess what has happened.</p> + +<p>Aunt Minerva insisted (again Aunt Minerva) that Miss Alixe must +have one of the big alienists (that's what they call specialists +in mental diseases, I've learned) see Miss Cornelia, the sister, +and perhaps he could tell whether anything could be done for +<i>her</i>. It took a long time to persuade Miss Alixe that there was +any use in doing this, but at last she consented. I think she has +always been very sensitive about that poor sister's losing her +mind, and she never wanted any one to see her. Even after she had +a number of servants in the house, she wouldn't let any one wait +on Miss Cornelia but herself.</p> + +<p>Well, the great doctor came and was there for hours and asked a +terrific lot of questions—all about everything that had happened +for years and years.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> He learned one thing that interested him +more than anything else, he said. Do you remember the day last +summer when we were there, sitting in the garden, and I played on +my violin—how Miss Alixe came down in a great hurry and asked me +to stop because it disturbed her sister? You may remember, too, +that I was playing "Träumerei"—had played it twice? Well, she +told the doctor that when Miss Cornelia heard that, she acted very +much excited, cried, and twisted her hands and tried to speak. +(She hasn't spoken an intelligible word since she had the +"stroke.") Miss Alixe also told him how their favorite brother had +played so much on the violin, particularly that same air.</p> + +<p>He said this was a most hopeful sign—it indicated that conditions +were now such that there was a possibility of her reason and +memory and even speech being restored, provided they could touch +just the right note of association.</p> + +<p>After he had thought the matter over a long time he decided to try +an experiment. And he selected me—little, insignificant <i>me</i>—to +help! He had me come in and bring my violin and sit in the room +with Miss Cornelia, a little behind her, so she would not notice +me particularly. Then he had Miss Alixe and Cecily also sitting +there in plain sight of her, just quietly sewing or reading and +not paying any particular attention to any one. He and Aunt +Minerva stayed outside, watching through the partly opened door.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was the first time I had ever seen Miss Cornelia (except that +time when the shutter blew open), and, Janet, she is <i>magnificent</i> +looking—entirely different from what I had imagined! She is large +and stately and imposing, with white hair like Miss Alixe's, piled +under a lace cap, and great black eyes. She just sat there quietly +knitting, and took no notice of any one. You would not have known +that there was anything the matter with her, except that her face +was almost expressionless—as if she wasn't thinking of anything +at all. I can't describe it any other way.</p> + +<p>Well, there we sat, and at a given signal from the doctor outside +the door I was to begin—very, very quietly and softly—to play +the "Träumerei." You can just imagine how nervous I was—so much +depended on my doing just the right thing! My hands shook, and my +knees shook, and my heart thumped, and I thought I should never be +able even to hold the bow. It seemed an age before the doctor +raised his hand as a signal, but when he did I tucked the violin +under my chin and fairly prayed that I shouldn't make a failure of +my part, anyway!</p> + +<p>And I played the "Träumerei" through, the very best I could—and +nothing happened. Miss Cornelia went right on knitting and never +noticed it at all. Then the doctor made another signal, and I +began it again. This time she laid down her knitting, closed her +eyes, and leaned her head against the back of the chair. And when +I'd finished for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> the second time, what <i>do</i> you suppose happened?</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes, looked over at Miss Alixe, and <i>spoke</i>, for +the first time in nearly thirty years! And this is what she said, +as simply and quietly as though all those thirty years had never +elapsed:</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 335px;"><a name="ILL_012" id="ILL_012"></a> +<img src="images/ill_012.jpg" width="335" height="400" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">"Sydney must have come in again; I hear him +practising!"</span> +</div> + +<p>"Sydney must have come in again; I hear him practising!"</p> + +<p>Miss Alixe was so startled she looked ready to faint away. But she +managed to say, "No, Cornelia, but I'll tell you all about it." +Then the doctor in great excitement beckoned us all to come out of +the room quickly and leave her alone with Miss Alixe. So we +vanished, and the two were there together a long, long time. At +last Miss Alixe sent for Cecily, and she was gone a long time, +too.</p> + +<p>When it was all over, the doctor said it was the most successful +thing that had ever happened in all his experience. Miss Cornelia +is completely restored to memory and speech. And after the first +shock of learning all that had been blank to her for these past +years, she rallied well, and is now resting and recuperating under +the care of Miss Alixe and a trained nurse. She still finds it +very hard to realize all the changes that have happened in those +thirty years, and she grieves a great deal over the death of her +brother, which seems very recent and terrible to her. But she is +simply devoted to Cecily, and Cecily is growing almost as fond of +<i>her</i> as she is of Miss Alixe. Next summer the whole family is +going with us to spend two months in Northam (Aunt Minerva's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a><br /><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a><br /><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +doings again!) because it is so lovely and restful there. And +won't we have a wonderful summer together, Janet dear? I can +hardly wait for the time to come!</p> + +<p>Well, that is all the news I have to tell, and I guess you'll +agree with me that it certainly is enough—and very satisfying!</p> + +<p>One thing amuses me to pieces, Janet, every time I think of it. Do +you remember how, when you first came to visit us last summer, I +was explaining to you all I'd discovered about "Benedict's Folly" +and flattering myself with the idea that I, or, rather, you and I, +would work out the puzzle and solve the mystery—all by ourselves?</p> + +<p>What little geese we were! A lot we <i>did</i> toward unraveling any of +that tangle! Even father and Major Goodrich were way off the +track. It took Aunt Minerva (the darling!) to walk right in and +clear the whole thing up! Here's "Hurrah!" then, for Aunt Minerva! +She certainly had the laugh on <i>us</i>!</p> + +<p>However, I sometimes console myself with the thought that it was +we (you and I) who first took an interest in that shuttered old +house in the garden. If we hadn't—who knows?—we would probably +never have met Cecily, and things would be just the same as ever +there, and Miss Alixe wouldn't have—</p> + +<p>But what's the use of going into all that! The "girl next door" is +our own dearest friend now, and everything is all right.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> + +<p>I just looked out of the window and saw a light in Cecily's room. +She's also writing to you to-night. We promised each other we both +would. I'm growing sleepy now, so good-night and heaps of love.</p></blockquote> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;"><span class="smcap">Marcia</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">February 28, 1913.</span><br /> +</p> + +<blockquote><p>P. S. Did I tell you this before, I wonder? Cecily has both the +bracelets now. Aunt Minerva, of course insisted that she should. +She has put them safely away and will never part with them again. +But we take them out and look at them sometimes and think of all +the strange and awful adventures they've been through and the +curious chance that brought them together again.</p> + +<p>Always, after we've looked at them, Cecily asks me to play the +"Träumerei." And while I play, she sits very quietly and says +nothing, and her eyes have a far-away look. But I know what she is +thinking about!</p></blockquote> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">M.</span><br /> +</p> + +<h4>THE END</h4> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Girl Next Door, by Augusta Huiell Seaman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIRL NEXT DOOR *** + +***** This file should be named 39896-h.htm or 39896-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/8/9/39896/ + +Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Girl Next Door + +Author: Augusta Huiell Seaman + +Illustrator: C. M. Relyea + +Release Date: June 2, 2012 [EBook #39896] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIRL NEXT DOOR *** + + + + +Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Book Cover] + + + + +THE GIRL NEXT DOOR + + + + +[Illustration: Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house +opposite] + + + + +THE GIRL NEXT DOOR + + +BY +AUGUSTA HUIELL SEAMAN + +Author of "The Sapphire Signet," "The +Boarded-Up House," etc. + + +ILLUSTRATED BY +C. M. RELYEA + + +[Illustration] + + +NEW YORK +THE CENTURY CO. + + + + +Copyright, 1917, by +THE CENTURY CO. + + + + +TO +HOA-SIAN-SIN-NIU +(Margaret Gillespie Fagg) + +AND TO THE MEMORY OF +HOA-SIAN-SIN +(John Gerardus Fagg, D.D.) + +THIS BOOK IS +AFFECTIONATELY +DEDICATED + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I MARCIA'S SECRET 3 + II THE FACE BEHIND THE SHUTTER 20 + III THE GATE OPENS 32 + IV THE BACKWARD GLANCE 43 + V THE HANDKERCHIEF IN THE WINDOW 54 + VI CECILY REVEALS HERSELF 62 + VII SURPRISES ALL AROUND 72 + VIII AT THE END OF THE STRING 81 + IX FOR THE SAKE OF CECILY 94 + X THE FILIGREE BRACELET 111 + XI THE LIFTED VEIL 119 + XII MISS BENEDICT SPEAKS 129 + XIII VIA WIRELESS 141 + XIV THE WRITING ON THE BRACELETS 149 + XV PUZZLING IT OUT 160 + XVI ONE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 170 + XVII MAJOR GOODRICH ASSISTS 183 + XVIII THE MAJOR HAS A FURTHER INSPIRATION 192 + XIX THE UNEXPECTED 206 + XX AUNT MINERVA TAKES COMMAND 227 + XXI SIX MONTHS LATER 251 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house + opposite _Frontispiece_ + Cecily Marlowe passed them by without a look 49 + They heard Cecily's light footsteps 83 + "I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these + shutters," cried Janet, suddenly 105 + In the sudden light of the open door she stood revealed 125 + "Words on two bracelets are identical," replied Lee Ching, + precisely 157 + "Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life + I lead" 171 + "Sydney must have come in again; I hear him practising!" 257 + + + + +THE GIRL NEXT DOOR + + + + +CHAPTER I + +MARCIA'S SECRET + + +"Marcia Brett, do you mean to tell me--" + +"Tell you--what?" + +"That you've had a secret two whole months and never told me about it +yet? And I'm your _best_ friend!" + +"I was waiting till you came to the city, Janet. I wanted to _tell_ you; +I didn't want to _write_ it." + +"Well, I've been in the city twelve hours, and you never said a word +about it till just now." + +"But, Janet, we've been sight-seeing ever since you arrived. You can't +very well tell secrets when you're sight-seeing, you know!" + +"Well, you might have given me a hint about it long ago. You know we've +solemnly promised never to have any secrets from each other, and yet +you've had one _two whole months_?" + +"No, Jan, I haven't had it quite as long as that. Honest! It didn't +begin till quite a while after I came; in fact, not till about three or +four weeks ago." + +"Tell me all about it right away, then, and perhaps I'll forgive you!" + +The two girls cuddled up close to each other on the low couch by the +open window and lowered their voices to a whisper. Through the warm +darkness of the June night came the hum of a great city, a subdued, +murmurous sound, strangely unfamiliar to one of the girls, who was in +the city for the first time in all her country life. To the other the +sound had some time since become an accustomed one. As they leaned their +elbows on the sill and, chins in hand, stared out into the darkness, +Marcia began: + +"Well, Jan, I might as well commence at the beginning, so you'll +understand how it all happened. I've been just crazy to tell you, but +I'm not good at letter-writing, and there's such a lot to explain that I +thought I'd wait till your visit. + +"You know, when we first moved to this apartment, last April, from 'way +back in Northam, I was all excitement for a while just to be living in +the city. Everything was _so_ different. Really, I acted so _silly_--you +wouldn't believe it! I used to run down to the front door half a dozen +times a day, just to push the bell and see the door open all by itself! +It seemed like something in a fairy-story. And for the longest while I +couldn't get used to the dumb-waiter or the steam-heat or the electric +lights, and all that sort of thing. It _is_ awfully different from our +old-fashioned little Northam--now isn't it?" + +"Yes, I feel just that way this minute," admitted Janet. + +"And then, too," went on Marcia, "there were all the things outside to +do and see--the trolleys and stores and parks and museums and the zoo! +Aunt Minerva said I went around 'like a distracted chicken' for a while! +And beside that, we used to have the greatest fun shopping for new +furniture and things for this apartment. Hardly a bit of that big old +furniture we brought with us would fit into it, these rooms are so much +smaller than the ones in our old farm-house. + +"Well, anyhow, for a while I was too busy and interested and excited to +think of another thing--" + +"Yes, too busy to even write to _me_!" interrupted Janet. "I had about +one letter in two weeks from you, those days. And you'd _promised_ to +write every other day!" + +"Oh well, never mind that now! You'd have done the same, I guess. If you +don't let me go on, I'll never get to the _secret_! After a while, +though, I got used to all the new things, and I'd seen all the sights, +and Aunt Minerva had finished all the furnishing except the curtains and +draperies (she's at that, yet!), and all of a sudden everything fell +flat. I hadn't begun my music-lessons, and there didn't seem to be a +thing to do, or a single interest in life. + +"The truth is, Jan, I was frightfully lonesome--for _you_!" Here Marcia +felt her hand squeezed in the darkness. "Perhaps you don't realize it, +but living in an apartment in a big city is the _queerest_ thing! You +don't know your neighbor that lives right across the hall. You don't +know a soul in the house. And as far as I can see, you're not likely to +if you lived here fifty years! Nobody calls on you as they do on a new +family in the country. Nobody seems to care a rap who you are, or +whether you live or die, or anything. And would you believe it, Janet, +there isn't another girl in this whole apartment, either older or +younger than myself! No one but grown-ups. + +"So you can see how awfully lonesome I've been. And as Aunt Minerva had +decided not to send me to high school till fall, I didn't have a chance +to get acquainted with any one of my own age. Actually, it got so I +didn't do much else but moon around and mark off the days till school in +Northam closed and you could come. And, oh, I'm _so_ glad you're here +for the summer! Isn't it gorgeous!" She hugged her chum spasmodically. + +"But to go on. I'm telling you all this so you can see what led up to my +doing what I did about--the _secret_. It began one awfully rainy +afternoon last month. I'd been for a walk in the wet, just for exercise, +and when I came in, Aunt Minerva was out shopping. I hadn't a new book +to read nor a blessed thing to do, so I sat down right here by the +window and got to thinking and wondering _why_ things were so unevenly +divided--why you, Jan, should have a mother and father and a big, jolly +lot of brothers and sisters, and I should be just _one_, all alone, +living with Aunt Minerva (though she's lovely to me), with no mother, +and a father away nearly all the time on his ship. + +"And it seemed as if I just hated this apartment, with its little rooms, +like cubbyholes, all in a row. I longed to be back in Northam. And +looking out of the window, I even thought I'd give anything to live in +that big, rambling, dingy, old place next door, beyond the brick wall, +for at least one could go up and down _stairs_ to the different rooms. + +"And then, if you'll believe me, Jan, as I stared at that house it +began to dawn on me that I'd never really 'taken it in' before--that it +was a very strange-looking old place. And because I didn't have another +mortal thing to do, I just sat and stared at it as if I'd never seen it +before, and began to wonder and wonder about it. For there were a number +of things about it that seemed decidedly _queer_." + +"What's it like, anyway?" questioned Janet. "There were so many other +things to see to-day that I didn't notice it at all. And it's so dark +now I can't see a thing." + +"Why, it's a big, square, four-story brick house, and it's terribly in +need of paint. Looks as if it hadn't had a coat in years and years. It +stands 'way back from the street, in a sort of ragged, weedy garden, and +there's a high brick wall around the whole place, except for a heavy +wooden gate at the front covered with ironwork. That gate is always +closed. A stone walk runs from the gate to the front door. 'Way back at +the rear of the garden is an old brick stable that looks as if it hadn't +been opened or used in years. + +"You'll see all this yourself, Janet, when you look out of the window in +the morning. For this apartment-house runs along close to the brick +wall, and as we're three floors up, you get a good view of the whole +place. This window in my room is the _very_ best place of all to see +it--fortunately. + +"But the queer thing about it is that, though the shutters are all +tightly closed or bowed,--every one!--and the whole place looks +deserted, it really _isn't_! There's some one living in it; and once in +a long while you happen to see signs of it. For instance, that very +afternoon I saw this: 'most all the shutters are tightly closed, but on +the second floor they are usually just bowed. And that day the slats in +one of them were open, and I thought I could see a muslin curtain +flapping behind it. But while I was looking, the fingers of a hand +suddenly appeared between the slats and snapped them shut with a jerk. + +"Of course, there's nothing so awfully strange about a thing like that, +_as a rule_, but somehow the way it was done seemed _mysterious_. I +can't explain just why. Anyhow, as I hadn't anything else to do, I +concluded I'd sit there for a while longer and see if something else +would happen. But nothing did--not for nearly an hour; and I was getting +tired of the thing and just going to get up and go away _when_--" + +"_What?_" breathed Janet, in an excited whisper. + +"The big front door opened (it was nearly dark by that time) and out +crept the queerest little figure! It appeared to be a little old woman +all dressed in dingy black clothes that looked as if they must have come +out of the ark, they were so old-fashioned! Her hat was a queer little +bonnet, with no trimming except a heavy black veil that came down over +her face. She had a small market-basket on her arm, and a big old +umbrella. + +"But the queerest thing was the way she scuttled down the path to the +gate, like a frightened rabbit, turning her head from side to side, as +if she was afraid of being seen or watched. When she got to the gate, +she had to put down her basket and umbrella and use both hands to +unlock it with a huge key. When she got outside of it, on the street, +she shut the gate behind her, and of course I couldn't see her any more. + +"Well, it set me to wondering and wondering what the story of that queer +old house and queer little old lady could be. It seemed as if there +_must_ be some story about it, or some explanation; for, you see, it's a +big place, and evidently at one time must have been very handsome. And +it stands right here in one of the busiest and most valuable parts of +the city. + +"The more I thought of it, the more curious I grew. But the worst of it +was that I didn't know a soul who could tell me the least thing about +it. Aunt Minerva couldn't, of course, and I wasn't acquainted with +another person in the city. It just seemed as if I _must_ find some +explanation. Then, all of a sudden, I thought of our new colored maid. +Perhaps she might have heard something about it. I made up my mind I'd +go right out to the kitchen. So I went and started her talking about +things in general and finally asked her if she knew anything about that +old house. And _then_--I wish you could have heard her! I can't tell it +all the way she did, but this is the substance of it: + +"It seems that she's discovered that the janitor here is the son of an +old friend from North Carolina. Of course she's been talking to him a +lot, and he has told her all about the whole neighborhood, and +especially about the queer old house next door. He says it's known all +around here as 'Benedict's Folly.'" + +"Why?" queried Janet. + +"Well, because years and years ago, when the owner built it (his name +was Benedict), it was 'way out of the city limits, and everybody thought +he was awfully foolish, going so far, and building a handsome city house +off in the wilderness. But he wasn't so foolish after all, for the city +came right up and surrounded him in the end, and the property is worth +no end of money now. + +"But here's the queer thing about it. Old Mr. Benedict's been dead many +years, and the place looks as if no one lived there--but _some one +does_! It's a daughter of his, a queer little old lady, who keeps +herself shut up there all the time; some think she's alone, others say +no, that some one else is there with her. No one seems to know +definitely. Anyhow, although she is very wealthy, she does all the work +herself, and the marketing; and she even carries home all the things, +and won't allow a single one of the tradesmen to come in. + +"Mr. Simmonds (that's our janitor) says that two years ago, in the +winter, a water-pipe there burst, and Miss Benedict just _had_ to get a +plumber; and he afterward told awfully peculiar things about the way the +house looked,--the furniture all draped and covered up, and even the +pictures on the walls covered, too,--and not a single modern improvement +except the running water and some old-fashioned gas-fixtures. And the +little old lady never raised her veil while he was there, so he couldn't +see what she looked like. + +"Mr. Simmonds says every one thinks there is some great mystery about +'Benedict's Folly,' but no one seems to be able to guess what it can +be. Now, Janet, isn't that just fascinating? Think of living next door +to a mystery!" + +"It's simply thrilling!" sighed Janet. "But, Marcia, I still don't see +what this has to do with a _secret_. Where do _you_ come in? I don't see +why you couldn't have written all this to me." + +"Wait!" said Marcia. "I haven't finished yet. That was absolutely all I +could get out of our maid Eliza, all she or any one else knew, in fact. +But as you can imagine, I couldn't get the thing out of my mind, and I +couldn't stop looking at the old place, either. I tried to talk to Aunt +Minerva about it, but she wasn't a bit interested. Said she couldn't +understand how any one could keep house in that slovenly fashion, and +that's all she would say. So I gave up trying to interest _her_. + +"Now, I must tell you the odd thing that happened that very night. You +know I've said it was raining hard all that day, and by ten o'clock the +wind was blowing a gale. I was just ready for bed, and had turned off +my light and raised the shade, when I thought I'd take another peep at +my mysterious mansion across the fence. All I could see, however, were +just some streaks of light through the chinks in the shutters in that +one room on the second floor. All the rest of the place was as dark as a +pocket. And as I sat staring out, it suddenly came to me what fun it +would be to try to unravel the whole mysterious affair all by myself. It +would certainly help me to pass the dull days till you came! + +"But then, too, the only way to do it would be to watch this old place +like a cat, and I knew _that_ wouldn't be right. It would be too much +like spying into your neighbor's affairs, and, of course, that's horrid. +Finally, I concluded, that if I could do it without being meddlesome or +prying, I'd just watch the place a _little_ and see if anything +interesting would happen. And while I was thinking this, a strange thing +_did_ happen--that very minute! + +"The wind had grown terrific, and, all of a sudden, it just took one of +the shutters of that lighted room, and ripped it from its fastening, +and threw it back against the wall. And the next moment a figure hurried +to the window, leaned out, and drew the shutter back in place again. But +just for one instant I had caught a glimpse of the whole inside of the +room! And what do you suppose I saw, Jan?" + +"_What?_" demanded Janet. + +"Well, not much of the furnishing, except a lighted oil-lamp on a table. +But, directly in the center of the room, in a perfectly enormous +armchair sat--a woman! And it wasn't the one I'd seen in the afternoon, +either. I'm sure of that. I couldn't see her face, for it was in shadow, +but she was looking down at something spread out on her lap. And she +held her right hand over it in the air and waved it back and forth, sort +of uncertainly. You can't imagine what a strange picture it was--and +then the shutter was closed. There was something so _weird_ about it +all. + +"If I was curious before, I was simply _wild_ with interest then. It +seemed as if I _must_ know what it all meant--what that strange old lady +could be doing, sitting there in state in the middle of the room, and +all the rest of it. You don't blame me, do you, Jan?" + +"Indeed I don't! I'd be ten times worse, I guess. But what about the +_secret_? And _did_ you find out anything else?" + +"Yes, I did. And that's the secret. The whole mysterious thing is in the +secret, because no one but you knows I'm the least interested in the +affair, and I don't want them to--now! I'll tell you what happened +next." + +But just at this moment they were interrupted by a knock at the door, +and a voice inquiring: + +"Girls, _girls_! haven't you gone to bed yet? I've heard you talking for +the last hour." + +"No, Aunt Minerva!" answered Marcia, "we are sitting by the window." + +"Well, you must go to bed _at once_! It's nearly midnight. You won't +either of you be fit for a thing to-morrow. Now, mind, not another word! +Good-night!" + +"Good-night!" they both answered, but heaved a sigh when Aunt Minerva +was out of hearing. + +"It's no use!" whispered Marcia. "We'll have to stop for to-night. But +there's lots more, and the _most_ interesting part of it, too. Well, +never mind, I'll tell you all the rest to-morrow!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE FACE BEHIND THE SHUTTER + + +Janet had no sooner hopped out of bed next morning than she flew to the +window to examine "Benedict's Folly" by broad daylight. In the streaming +sun of a June morning the dingy old mansion certainly bore out the truth +of Marcia's mysterious description. + +"Gracious! I should think you would have been interested in it from the +first!" she exclaimed. + +"Interested in what?" yawned Marcia, sleepily, opening her eyes. + +"'Benedict's Folly,' of course! Let's see," went on Janet, who possessed +a very practical, orderly mind; "from your story last night it seems +there must be two people living there--but look here! how did you know, +Marcia, that it was another old lady you saw that night when the shutter +blew open?" + +"Why, for several reasons," answered Marcia. "In the first place, the +one who goes out is short and slight. The one sitting in the chair was +evidently large, and rather stout, and--and different, somehow, although +I didn't see either of their faces. And then, it wasn't the lady in the +chair who closed the shutter. She evidently never moved. So it _must_ +have been some one else." + +"Yes, it must have been," agreed Janet, convinced. "Queer that nobody +seems to know about the second one. I wonder who she is? And are there +any more? Go on with your story, Marcia." + +"No," said Marcia. "Wait till we can be by ourselves for a long while. I +don't want to be interrupted. Aunt Minerva's going out this morning, and +then we'll have a chance." + +So, later in the morning, the two girls sat by Marcia's window, each +occupied with a dainty bit of embroidery, and Marcia began anew: + +"Well, after that rainy night, for several days I didn't see a thing +more that was interesting about the old house or the queer people who +live in it. I used to watch once in a while to see if the little lady in +black would go out again in the afternoon, as she did before, but she +didn't. Then, a day or two later, I did something that surprised even +myself, for I hadn't the faintest _intention_ of doing it. I had been +taking a walk that afternoon and was just coming home, passing on the +way the high brick wall of the Benedict house. It was just as I reached +the closed gate that an idea popped into my head. + +"You know, they say that no visitors are ever admitted, and no rings or +knocks at the gate are ever answered. Well, something suddenly prompted +me to ring that bell and see what would happen. I never stopped to ask +myself what I should say if some one came and inquired what I wanted. I +just rang it suddenly (and I had to pull hard, the old thing was so +rusty) and far away somewhere in the house I heard a faint tinkle. + +"Then I got kind of panic-stricken, wondering what I'd say if any one +did really come. But I needn't have worried, for what do you suppose +happened?" + +"Nothing!" answered Janet, promptly. + +"That's just where you're mistaken; but you'd never guess what it was. +About a minute after I'd rung the bell, I heard light footsteps on the +walk behind the gate. _But_, instead of coming _toward_ the gate, they +were hurrying _away_ from it; and in another minute I heard the front +door close. After that it was all quiet, and nothing else happened. Then +I went on home." + +"I know," interrupted Janet, whose quick mind had already worked out the +problem, "exactly what occurred. It was Miss Benedict, who had been just +about to come out on her way to do the marketing. And your ring +frightened her, and sent her hurrying back into the house. _Isn't_ it +all singular!" + +"Yes, that must have been it," agreed Marcia. "And it made me more +curious than ever to understand about it. And I was so annoyed at myself +for ringing at all. If I hadn't, I might have seen Miss Benedict close +by, when she came out of the gate. It served me right for doing such a +thing, anyhow! + +"But after that I got to watching, every time I went out, thinking I +might see her on the street somewhere, especially if it was about the +time she usually did her marketing--along toward dusk. Several days +passed, however, and I never did. I _had_ thought of watching from my +window to see when she went out, and then following her. But that didn't +seem right, somehow. It would be too much like spying on her. So I just +concluded I'd trust to chance. And luck favored me at last, one morning, +about a week after I'd rung her bell. + +"It happened that the night before, Eliza suddenly discovered we were +all out of oatmeal for breakfast, and I promised her I'd get some very +early in the morning, when I went to take my walk. You know, I've found +that on these warm summer days in the city it's much pleasanter to take +a walk in the real early morning than to wait till later in the day, +when it's crowded and hot. And I always used to love walking in the +early morning, up in Northam. + +"Well, anyhow, I got up that day about six. I knew that no stores near +here would be open so early, and I decided to walk over toward the other +side of town. It's a sort of poor section there, and the stores often +open up quite early, so that folks can do their marketing before they go +to work. It was a beautiful, cool morning, and I was quite enjoying +myself when--Jan, _what_ do you think?--I looked up, and about half a +block ahead of me was a little black figure with a market-basket, +hurrying along. I _knew_ it was Miss Benedict! + +"Can you imagine my surprise--and delight? I suddenly made up my mind +I'd keep behind her, and go into the same store she did. There could +surely be no harm in _that_! And by and by I saw her turn into a little +grocery-shop; and a minute or two after in I walked, went to the +counter, and stood right near her. There was no one in the store beside +ourselves and the grocer. He looked sleepy, and was yawning while he +wrapped up something for her. He asked me to 'Wait a minute, please!' +which, of course, I was only too delighted to do, as it gave me a +perfect right to stand close by my mysterious little neighbor and hear +her speak. + +"And it was right there, Janet, that I got the surprise of my life. She +still wore her black veil, and it was so thick that not a bit of her +face could be seen. Her dress was the most old-fashioned thing--it +looked twenty years old, if not more. I don't know what sort of a voice +I had expected to hear, but it was nothing in the least like what I +_did_ hear. + +"I can't exactly describe it to you, Jan, but it was the most beautiful +_speaking_ voice I've ever heard in my life! It was soft, and +flute-like, and so--so _appealing_! It somehow went straight to my +heart. It made me feel as if I wanted to take _care_ of Miss Benedict, +somehow, I can't exactly explain it. Even when she was speaking of such +commonplace things as butter and eggs and sugar, it was like--like +_music_! + +"Well, in a few moments she had finished, and the grocer packed her +things in her basket, and she went away. I had to stay, of course, and +get my oatmeal, and I didn't see her again. But being so close to her +and hearing that lovely voice had changed my whole feeling about her. At +first, I had just been interested and awfully _curious_ about the whole +mysterious affair, and, I'll confess, just a wee bit repelled by the +account of the queer little lady and the strange way she lived. I wanted +to know the explanation of the mystery, but I didn't particularly want +to know _her_. But after that, I felt different,--sort of bewitched by +that beautiful voice. I wanted to _help_ that Miss Benedict. I wanted to +_do_ something for her, or try to make her happier, or--or _something_, +I couldn't quite explain what. And I wanted--oh, so much!--to see her +_face_, and know what she was like, and more about _herself_. Can you +understand, Jan?" + +"Indeed, I can. But do go on. Did you ever meet her again?" + +"No, I didn't. But I've seen--and heard--something else that's strange, +more strange than all the rest!" + +"Tell me, quick!" demanded Janet. + +"Two nights ago, I sat here by the window. It was too hot to turn on the +light, but it was very dark outside. Presently I heard footsteps in the +Benedict garden. They were light, quick footsteps, and sounded exactly +as if some one were running about, or skipping and jumping. First I +thought it must be a big dog, for it couldn't possibly have been either +one of those two old ladies, running and skipping that way! And then I +heard a soft humming, as if some one were singing a tune half under the +breath. And then, very soon after, a door opened, and a voice called +out, very softly, 'Come in, now!' And after that all was quiet. Now, +Janet McNeil, I'm simply positive there's _some one else_ in that house +beside the two old ladies,--some one who hasn't been seen yet. What do +you make of it?" + +"You must be right," replied Janet, thoughtfully. "It _couldn't_ be +either of them running about in the garden in the dark and humming a +tune. It isn't at all what they'd be likely to do. I think it must be +some one else, more--more _human_ and natural, somehow. And younger, +too. But what on _earth_ do they all keep so shut up for, and act as if +they were afraid to be seen! It's the queerest thing I ever heard of. +You certainly _have_ moved next door to a 'dark-brown mystery,' Marcia!" + +For the ensuing hour the girls embroidered steadily and discussed +"Benedict's Folly" and its inmates in all their peculiar phases. But, +turn and twist it as they might, they could find no answer to the +riddle. After a while, Janet changed the subject. + +"By the way, Marcia, how are you coming on with your violin practice? +Have you begun taking lessons here yet? You know that was one of the +principal things you folks moved to the city for,--so that you could +study with the best teachers." + +"Yes, I've begun with Professor Hardwick," said Marcia, "and I've +practised quite hard lately. It's about all I had to do. He says I've +made some progress already." + +"Oh, _do_ get your violin and play some for me!" begged Janet. "I'm +just starving for some good music. I haven't heard any since you left +Northam." + +So Marcia obligingly went to the parlor and brought back her violin. +When she had tuned it and tucked it lovingly under her chin, she sat +down in the window-seat and ran her bow over the strings in a shower of +liquid melody. For one so young she played astonishingly well. Janet +listened, breathless, absorbed. + +"Marcia dear, you _have_ improved!" she exclaimed, as her chum stopped +for a moment. "Now do play my favorite!" Marcia laid her bow on the +strings once more, and slipped into the tender reverie of the +"Traeumerei." But before it was half finished, Janet, wide-eyed with +astonishment, laid her hand on Marcia's arm. + +"Look!" she breathed. Marcia followed the direction of her gaze, and +turned to stare out of the window at the house opposite. And this is +what she saw: + +The shutter of a window on the top floor had been pushed partly open, +and a face looked out,--a face with big, appealing eyes, and a frame of +golden, curling hair falling all about it. Straight over at the two in +the window it gazed, eager, absorbed, delighted. And then suddenly, as +it detected their own interested stare, it withdrew, and the shutter was +softly closed. + +The two girls drew a long breath and gazed at each other. + +"Janet,--_what_ did I tell you! There _is_ some one else in that house!" +cried Marcia. + +"I guess you're right!" admitted Janet, quieter, but no less excited. +"But do you realize who that third person _is_, Marcia Brett? It isn't +an old lady; it's some one just about our own age--it's a young +_girl_!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE GATE OPENS + + +For the two ensuing days, Marcia and Janet, tense with excitement, +discussed the most recently discovered inmate of "Benedict's Folly," and +watched incessantly for another glimpse of the face behind the shutter. +How was it, they constantly demanded of each other, that a girl of +fourteen or fifteen had come to be shut up in the dreary old place? Was +she a prisoner there? Was she a relative, friend, or servant? Was she +free to come and go? + +To the latter question they unanimously voted "No!" How could she be +aught else but a prisoner when she was never seen going in or out, was +forced to take her exercise after nightfall in the dark garden, and was +kept constantly behind closed shutters? No girl of that age in her +right mind could deliberately _choose_ a life like that! + +"Do you suppose she has always lived there?" queried Marcia, for the +twentieth time. And as Janet could answer it no better than herself, she +propounded another question: + +"And why do you suppose she opened the shutter and looked out, seeming +so delighted, when I played, and then drew in again so quickly when we +noticed her? Is _she_ afraid of being seen, too?" + +"Evidently," said Janet. "She must be as full of mystery as the rest of +them. And yet--I _can't_, somehow, feel that she _is_ like them; she's +so sweet and young and--oh, _you_ know what I mean!" + +Of course she knew, but it didn't help them in the least to solve this +latest phase of their mystery. Finally Marcia, who still clung a bit +shyly to the fairy lore of her earlier years, declared: + +"I believe she's a regular _Cinderella_, kept there to do all the hard +work of the place by those queer old ladies, and I shouldn't be a bit +surprised if she's down in the kitchen this minute, cleaning out the +ashes of the stove! Come, Jan, let's go for a walk, and when we come +back I'll play on the violin by the window. Maybe our little +_Cinderella_ will peep out again!" + +The two girls put on their hats and strolled out for their usual +afternoon walk and treat of ice-cream soda. But they had gone no farther +from their own door than the length of the Benedict brick wall when they +were suddenly brought to a halt in front of the closed gate by hearing a +sound on the other side of it. It was a sound indicative of some one's +struggling attempt to open it--the click of a key turning and turning in +the lock and the futile rattling of the iron knob. And then the sound of +a voice murmuring: + +"Oh, dear! What _shall_ I do? I can't get this open!" + +"Janet," whispered Marcia, "that's _not_ the voice of Miss Benedict! I +_know_ it! I believe it's _Cinderella_, and she's trying to run away! +What shall we do--stay here?" + +"No," Janet whispered back. "Let's just stroll on a little way, and then +turn back. We can see what happens then without seeming to be watching." + +They walked on quickly for a number of yards, and then turned to +approach the gate again. Even as they did so they saw it open, and out +stepped a little figure. + +It was not Miss Benedict! The slim, trim little girlish form was clad in +plain dark clothes of a slightly unfamiliar cut. But the face was the +one that had appeared in the upper window, and the thick golden curls +were surmounted by a black velvet tam-o'-shanter. On her arm she carried +a small market-basket, and her eyes had a bewildered, almost frightened, +look. + +In their excited interest Marcia and Janet had, quite unconsciously, +stopped short where they were and waited to see which way their +_Cinderella_ would turn. But though they stood so for an appreciable +moment, she turned neither way, and only stood, her back to the gate, +gazing uncertainly to the right and left. And then, perceiving them, she +seemed to take a sudden resolution, and turned to them appealingly. + +"Oh, please, _could_ you direct me how to find this?" she asked, holding +out a slip of paper. Marcia hurried to her side and read the written +address. And when she had read it, she realized that it was the little +grocery-shop on the other side of town where she had once encountered +Miss Benedict. + +"Why, certainly!" she cried. "You walk over five blocks in that +direction, then turn to your left and down three. You can't miss it; +it's right next to a shoemaker's place." + +The child looked more bewildered than ever, and her eyes strayed to the +busy street-crossing near which they stood, crowded with hurrying trucks +and automobiles. + +"Thank you!" she faltered. "Do I go this way?" And then, with sudden +candor, "You see, I'm strange in these streets." Her voice was clear and +pretty, but her accent markedly un-American. Both girls half +consciously noted it. + +"See here," said Marcia; "would you care to have us take you there? +We're not going in any special direction, and I've been there before." + +An infinitely relieved expression came over the girl's face. "Oh, +_would_ you be so kind? I'm just--just scared to death on these +streets!" + +They turned to accompany her, one on each side, and piloted her safely +across the busy avenue. Then, in the quiet stretch of the next block, +they proceeded together in complete and embarrassing silence. + +It was a silence that Marcia and Janet had fully expected their +companion to break--possibly to reveal some reason for her errand and +her strangeness in the streets. They themselves hesitated to say much, +for fear of seeming curious or anxious to force her confidence. But she +said not a word. The strain at last became too much for Janet. + +"I don't blame you for feeling nervous in these city streets," she +began. "I'm a country girl myself, and I act like a scared rabbit +whenever I go out alone here." The girl turned to her with a little +confiding gesture. + +"I've never been out in them alone before," she said. Then there was +another silence during which Marcia and Janet both searched frantically +in their minds for something else to say. But it was the girl herself +who broke the silence the second time. + +"Thank you for your music the other day," she said, turning to Marcia. +"I heard you. I often hear you and listen." + +"Oh, I'm so glad you liked it!" cried Marcia. "Do you care for music?" + +"I adore it," she replied simply. + +"Look here!" exclaimed Marcia, suddenly; "how did you know it was I that +played the violin?" + +"Because I've watched you often--through the slats!" + +Marcia and Janet exchanged glances. So the watching was not all on +_their_ side of the fence! Here was a revelation! + +"That last thing you played the other day--will you--will you tell me +what it was?" went on their new companion, shyly. + +"Why, that was Schumann's 'Traeumerei,'" answered Marcia. "I love it, +don't you?" + +"Yes but I never heard it before; that is, I never _remember_ hearing +it, and yet--somehow I seemed to _know_ it. I can't think why. I don't +understand. It's as if I'd _dreamed_ it, I think." + +Marcia and Janet again exchanged glances. What a strange child this was, +who talked of having "dreamed" music that was quite familiar to almost +every one. + +"Perhaps you heard it at a concert," suggested Janet. + +"I never went to a concert," she replied, much to their amazement. And +then, perceiving their surprise, she added: + +"You see, I've always lived 'way off in the country, in just a little +village--till now." + +"Oh--yes," answered Janet, pretending enlightenment, though in truth she +and Marcia were more bewildered than ever. + +But by this time they had reached the little grocery-shop, and all +proceeded inside while their new friend made her purchases. These she +read off slowly from a slip of paper, and the grocer packed them in her +basket. But when it came to paying for them and making change, she +became entangled in a fresh puzzle. + +"I think you said these eggs were a shilling?" she ventured to the +grocer. + +"Shilling--no! I said they were a quarter," he retorted impatiently. + +"A quarter?" she queried, and turned questioning eyes to her two +friends. + +"He means this," said Marcia, picking out a twenty-five-cent piece from +the change the girl held. + +"Oh, thank you! I don't understand this American money," she explained. +And Marcia and Janet added another query to their rapidly growing mental +list. + +On the way back home, however, she grew silent again, and though the +girls chatted back and forth about quite impersonal matters,--the +crowded streets, the warm weather, the sights they passed,--she was not +to be drawn into the conversation. And the nearer they drew to their +destination, the more depressed she appeared to become. At last they +reached the gate. + +"Shall you be going out again to-morrow?" ventured Marcia. "If so, we +will go with you, if you care to have us, till you get used to the +streets." + +The girl gave her a sudden, pleased glance. "I--I don't know," she said. +"You see, Miss Benedict hurt her ankle a day or two ago, and she can't +get around much, so--so I'm doing this for her. If she wants me to go +to-morrow, I will. I'd be _so_ glad to go with you. How shall I let you +know?" + +"Just hang a white handkerchief to your shutter before you go, and we'll +see it. We'll watch for it!" cried Marcia, inventing the signal on the +spur of the moment. And then, impetuously, she added: + +"My name is Marcia Brett, and this is Janet McNeil. Won't you tell us +yours, if we're to be friends?" + +"I'm Cecily Marlowe," she answered, "and I'm _so_ glad to know you." As +she spoke she was fumbling with the big key in the lock of the gate, and +as the latter swung open, she turned once more to face them, with a +little pent-up sob: "I don't know why I'm here--and I'm _so_ lonely!" +Then, frightened at having revealed so much, she turned quickly away and +shut the gate. + +As they listened to her footsteps retreating up the path and the closing +of the front door Marcia and Janet turned to each other, a thousand +questions burning on their tongues. But all they could exclaim in one +breath was: + +"Did you _ever_!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BACKWARD GLANCE + + +The next twenty-four hours were spent in delightful speculation. So her +name was Cecily Marlowe! Was she any relation of Miss Benedict? +"Marlowe" and "Benedict" were certainly dissimilar enough. + +"But then she might be a relation on Miss Benedict's mother's side," +suggested Marcia. + +"Does it sound likely when you think what she said just at the +last--that she didn't know why she was there?" replied Janet, +scornfully. "She couldn't be in doubt about it if she were a _relation_, +either come on a visit or there to stay!" Which argument settled _that_ +question. + +"But where do you suppose she has come from?" marveled Marcia. "She said +she'd always lived in a little country village, and she didn't know a +thing about American money. She's foreign--that's certain. Even her +clothes and her way of speaking show it. But from where?" + +"Did you notice that she said 'shilling'?" suggested Janet. "That shows +she must be English. She _looks_ English. Now will you tell me how she +could get 'way over here from England and not know why she had come?" + +"It sounds as if she might have been kidnapped," said Marcia. "Why, +Janet! this is precisely like a mystery in a book. Do you _realize_ it? +And here we are living right next door to it! It's too good to be true!" + +Janet's mind had, however, gone off on another tack. "I can't understand +that remark she made about the music. 'Traeumerei' is certainly about as +well known as any piece of classic music. She said she never remembered +hearing it, and yet it seems somehow familiar to her. Can you make +anything out of _that_?" + +Marcia couldn't. "Maybe it's all just a notion," she suggested +helplessly. "Suppose I play some on the violin here in our window right +now. She seems to enjoy it so. And maybe she'll open her shutter +again." + +So they sat on the window-seat, and Marcia played her very best, +including the "Traeumerei," but no golden head appeared from behind the +shutter that afternoon. + +"Never mind," said Janet. "We'll see her to-morrow, most likely. Perhaps +she's busy downstairs now." + +"But isn't she the prettiest little thing!" mused Marcia, reminiscently. +"The loveliest big blue eyes, and curly golden hair, and such a +_trusting_ look in her face, somehow! It went right down to the very +bottom of my heart, if it doesn't sound silly to put it that way." + +"Yes, I know," agreed Janet. "I felt the same way. But doesn't it strike +you queer that--" + +"Oh, the whole thing's queer!" interrupted Marcia. "The queerest I ever +heard of. I guess you agree with me now, Janet, that I had a secret +worth talking about in 'Benedict's Folly.' But let's wait till to-morrow +and see what happens." + +The morrow came and went, however, and nothing happened at all. Hour +after hour the two girls watched for the signal of the white +handkerchief, but every shuttered window of the old mansion remained +blank. Neither did any one go in or out of the gate. Late in the +afternoon Marcia played again at the window, but the sweetest music +called forth not a single sign from behind the walls of the house next +door. Janet had but one solution to offer. + +"They probably didn't need any marketing done to-day, so she naturally +didn't go out." + +"But why couldn't she have at least looked out a moment from her +window?" cried Marcia, disconsolately. "Surely that would have been easy +to do, when she said she cared so much for the music. She must have +_known_ I was playing just for her!" + +"She may have been somewhere in the house where she couldn't. You can't +tell, and oughtn't to blame her without knowing," declared Janet, +defending the conduct of the mysterious Cecily. "To-morrow we'll see her +again, no doubt." + +On the morrow her prophecy was fulfilled. They did see her again, but +under circumstances so peculiar that they were quite dumfounded. + +All the morning they watched and waited in vain for some signal from the +upper window. But none came. And the main part of the afternoon passed +in precisely the same way. They sat very conspicuously in their own +window-seat, so that there could be no doubt in Cecily's mind about +their being at home. Marcia even did a little violin practice while they +waited. And still there was no sign. Suddenly, about five o'clock, Janet +clutched at her chum's arm. + +"Look!" she cried. + +Marcia looked, and down the path from the front door of the strange +house she saw Cecily, dressed to go out, approaching the gate. It was +plain that she was bound on another marketing expedition for the basket +hung from her arm. + +"_Well!_ what do you make of that!" exclaimed Marcia in bewilderment. +"Did she signal to us?" + +"No, she didn't," returned Janet. "I've watched every minute. She +_couldn't_ have forgotten it. But, do you know, there may be some very +good reason why she didn't--or couldn't--and perhaps she's hoping we'll +see her, and be on hand outside, anyway, as we promised." + +"But she _must_ have seen us sitting in the window," argued Marcia. "She +might at least have looked up and waved her hand, or nodded, or +smiled--or something!" + +Cecily, meanwhile, was fumbling with the lock of the big old gate, which +seemed, as on a former occasion, to give her a great deal of trouble. + +"Come," cried Janet to Marcia. "We'll just about have time to catch her +if we hurry." And seizing their hats, the girls hastened downstairs. +Their front door closed behind them just as Cecily came abreast of them. +What happened next was like a blow in the face! + +[Illustration: Cecily Marlowe passed them by without a look] + +They had started forward, each with a friendly smile, expecting their +new companion to meet them in similar fashion. To their amazement, +Cecily Marlowe, after the first sudden look into their faces, dropped +her eyes, and passed them by without a glance, precisely as if they were +utter strangers to her. + +Both girls gasped, stared at her departing figure till she turned the +corner, and then into each other's faces. + +"The ungrateful little thing!" Marcia presently exploded. "If that +wasn't the 'cut direct,' I've never seen it before!" + +"An unmistakable way of telling us to mind our own business!" even Janet +had to admit. "How humiliating! And yet--" + +"Yet--what?" demanded Marcia, indignantly. "You're surely not going to +try to excuse such inexcusable conduct as _that_! I see very plainly +what's happened. She's thought it over and decided that we were +meddlesome and just trying to _push_ an acquaintance with her, and she +thinks she's a little too exclusive for that kind of thing, and the +simple remedy was to 'cut us dead'!" Marcia was quite out of breath when +she finished this summing up. + +"It _does_ look like it," Janet admitted. "But somehow, even yet, I +can't feel that she _wanted_ to do it--of her own accord, I mean." + +But Marcia couldn't see it in that light. They discussed the question +hotly, still standing on the front stoop of the apartment. So long, in +fact, did they argue it back and forth, turning and twisting the sorry +little occurrence, viewing it in every possible light, that before they +realized it, Cecily was returning, her errands accomplished. How she had +managed to find her way and cross the streets in safety, they could only +conjecture. + +To reach her own gate, she had to pass directly by where they were +standing, and they saw her approaching down the block. + +"Here she comes," muttered Marcia. "Now, let's stand right here and +watch her as she goes by. She can't _help_ but see us. We'll give her +one more chance to do the proper thing." + +And so they waited, breathless, expectant, while the girl came rapidly +on, her eyes cast down, watching the pavement. But even when she was +quite in front of them, she did not once look up, and without comment +their gaze followed her retreating figure to the gate. + +As she fitted the big key and swung the gate open, they were just about +to turn to each other in angry impatience when something else happened. + +Cecily Marlowe turned her head and looked back at them for one long, +tense moment. It was such a wistful, imploring look, a gaze so full of +appeal for forgiveness, so plainly in contrast with her recent conduct, +that their hearts melted at once. + +Simultaneously they waved their hands and smiled at her, and she smiled +back in return, the most adorable little smile in the world, full of +trust and confidence and utter friendliness. + +Then she hurried in and closed the gate, leaving her two new friends +outside more bewildered than ever. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE HANDKERCHIEF IN THE WINDOW + + +The next day was spent by the two girls in an expedition to one of the +near-by ocean beaches with Aunt Minerva. Under ordinary circumstances it +was a treat that would have delighted their hearts. But, as matters +stood, they only chafed with impatience to be back at their bedroom +window, watching the house next door. The date for the trip, however, +had been set some time before, and Aunt Minerva would have thought it +very strange if they had begged off, for such flimsy reason as they +could have offered. + +The day after found them again on watch, though what they expected to +see they couldn't have told. It was plain that, in spite of appearances, +Cecily Marlowe's friendly feeling toward them was undiminished. The +charming backward smile had indicated _that_ unmistakably. But how to +make it fit in with her refusal to signal and her forbidding conduct +they could not understand, and the mystery kept them in a constant +ferment of surmise. + +But even as they sat discussing it next morning, their fancy-work lying +unheeded in their laps, they looked out suddenly with a simultaneous +gasp of astonishment and delight. There was a tiny white handkerchief +attached to the shutter in the upper window and fluttering in the +breeze! + +"It's the signal--our signal!" cried Marcia. "Now what shall we +do?--show that we've seen it by waving something? Here's my red silk +scarf." + +"No," decided Janet. "Perhaps she'd rather not have us do anything that +might attract attention. Let's go right down to the street, as we said +we would, and see if she's there." + +They lost not a moment's time in reaching their front steps. But there +was no sign of Cecily till they had come abreast of the Benedict gate. +This they discovered ajar, and two blue eyes peeping out of a narrow +crack. As they came in sight, there was a smothered exclamation, "Oh! +I'm so glad!" The gate opened wider, and Cecily stood before them. + +"You are _so_ good!" she began at once, in a low voice, stretching out +both hands to them. "I was afraid you--you wouldn't come. I left the +signal there almost all day yesterday--" + +"We were away!" cried Marcia, promptly. "I'm _so_ sorry. We went--" + +"Oh, then--oh, it's all right!" breathed Cecily, in relief. "I was sure +you were angry at--at the way--I acted." + +It was on the tip of Marcia's tongue to demand why she _had_ acted so, +but she refrained. And Cecily hurried on: + +"I--I just had to signal for you. I--we are in great trouble--and I +don't know what to do." + +"Oh, what _is_ it?" cried both girls together. + +"Miss--Miss Benedict is very ill," she continued hesitatingly. "She--she +fell and hurt her ankle the other day, and--it's been getting worse +ever since. She's in bed--suffering great pain both yesterday and +to-day. It's terribly swelled--" + +"But why doesn't she send for a doctor?" interrupted Janet, hastily. +"She _ought_ to have one if it's as bad as that." + +"I asked her that, too, yesterday, and she only said: 'No, no! I cannot, +must not have a doctor, child!' And when I asked what I could do for +her, she answered, 'I don't know, I'm sure!' So there she lies--just +suffering. And--and I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I +signaled to you. You are my only friends--in all this city!" + +There was something infinitely pathetic about the way she brought out +this last statement. It touched the hearts of both her listeners, and +because of it they inwardly forgave her, once and for all, for any +action of hers that had offended them. And they had the good sense not +to comment on the strangeness of Miss Benedict's behavior. + +"Well, if she won't have a doctor, we must think what else there is to +be done," began Janet, practically. + +"I wish you'd let me bring Aunt Minerva in to see her," said Marcia. +"She hurt her ankle just like that, two years ago, and she'd know +exactly what--" + +"Oh, no, no!" cried Cecily, starting forward. "Miss Benedict would not +want that--does not want to see any one. Please--_please_ do not even +_mention_ to your aunt anything about her--or me! Miss Benedict would +not wish it." + +The request was certainly very peculiar, but the girls were able to +conceal their surprise, great as it was. "Very well," said Marcia, +soothingly. "If you'd rather have it that way, we certainly won't speak +of it. But I've just had another idea. I remember Aunt Minerva had a +certain kind of salve that she used for her ankle, and she kept it +tightly bandaged on. It did her lots of good--cured her, in fact. Now I +believe I could get that salve at a drug-store here--" + +"Oh, _could_ you?" exclaimed Cecily, in immense relief. "Let us go at +once." + +"But you needn't trouble to go," said Marcia. "We won't be ten minutes +and will come right back with it." + +"I prefer to go," replied Cecily Marlowe, with such an air of quiet +finality that neither dared to question it. All three started out, after +Cecily had locked the gate, and proceeded to the nearest drug-store. +Here Marcia made the purchase, and paid for it from the change in her +own hand-bag. But when they were outside the store Cecily turned to her +gravely: + +"I have a little English money of my own, but I did not like to offer it +in the shop. If you will--will tell me how much the salve cost--in +shillings--I will give it to you." And she held out several English +shillings to Marcia. + +"Oh, you needn't do that! I'm glad to be able to think of something to +do for Miss Benedict. It's such a little matter--" + +"Please!" reiterated Cecily. "I wish to tell her I bought it myself." + +"Why?" cried Marcia, and then the next moment wished she could recall a +question that seemed to border on the personal. + +"Because I--I dare not tell her I have--have been talking to you!" +hesitated Cecily, in an unusual burst of candor. And after that +revelation they all walked back to the gate in an uneasy silence. + +When they stood again in front of the blank barrier to the mysterious +house, Cecily turned to Marcia. + +"I love your music," she said. "I always listen to it whenever you play. +I knew you had been playing--just for me--these last few days, and I +wanted to look out of my window and--and wave to you, but--I must not. I +am always there when you play--listening. I wanted you to know it." + +"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried Marcia, delightedly. "I _hoped_ it would please +you. I'll play more than ever now. I'll do all my practising there, +too." + +"Cecily," said Janet, abruptly, venturing on personal ground for the +first time, "you are very lonely there, in that big house, with no other +young folks, aren't you?" + +"Yes," answered Cecily, speaking very low, and glancing in an uncertain +way at the gate. + +"Well, why don't you ask--er--Miss Benedict, if you couldn't run in and +visit us once in a while, or go out for a walk with us sometimes? Surely +she wouldn't object to that." + +"Oh, no, no!" cried Cecily, hastily. "I'd--oh, _how_ I'd love to, +but--but--it wouldn't do,--it wouldn't be allowed! No, I must not." +There was nothing more to be said. + +"At least, then," added Marcia, "you'll let us know if you need anything +else--you'll signal to us?" + +"Yes," said Cecily, "I'll do that." She got out the key, and unlocked +the gate. Then she faced them with a sudden, passionate sob. + +"You are so wonderfully good to me! I love you--both! You're all I have +to--care for!" + +Then the gate was shut, and they heard her footsteps fleeing up the +pathway. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +CECILY REVEALS HERSELF + + +That night the two girls held a council of war. + +"It's perfectly plain to me," said Marcia, "that that poor little thing +is right under Miss Benedict's thumb. I think the way she's treated is +scandalous--not allowed to go out, or speak to, or associate with, any +one! And scared out of her wits all the time, evidently. What on earth +is she there for, anyhow?" + +Janet scorned to reply to the old, unanswerable question. Instead she +remarked: + +"She's breaking her heart about it, too. I can see that. And, Marcia, +wasn't it strange--what she said just at the last--that she loved us, +and that we were all she had to care for! Where _can_ all her relatives +and family be? Miss Benedict certainly can't be a relative, for Cecily +calls her 'Miss.' To think of that lovely little thing without a soul +to care for her--except ourselves. Why, Marcia, it's--it's amazing! But +the main question now is what are we going to do about it? We _must_ +help her somehow!" + +"I know what _I'm_ going to do about it," replied Marcia, decisively. +"I'm going to tell Aunt Minerva about it, and see if she can't--" + +"Wait a minute," Janet reminded her. "You forget that Cecily fairly +begged us not to mention anything about her to any one." + +"That's so," said Marcia, looking blank. "What _are_ we going to do +then?" + +"There's only one thing I can think of," answered Janet, slowly. "Miss +Benedict may forbid Cecily to meet or speak to _us_, but she can't +forbid us meeting and speaking to Cecily, can she? So why can't we just +watch for Cecily to come out, and then go and join her? She can't stop +us--she can't help herself; and between you and me, I think she'll be +only too delighted!" + +"Good enough!" laughed Marcia. "But what an ogre that Miss Benedict must +be! I'm horribly disappointed about her. After I heard her speak that +time I was sure she must be lovely. It doesn't seem possible that any +one with such a wonderful, sympathetic voice could be so--so downright +hateful to a dear little thing like Cecily." + +"I must say it seems just horrid!" cried Janet, vehemently. + +That night, after darkness had fallen, the two girls, settling +themselves without a light at their open window, heard, as Marcia had +once before described, the sound of running feet in the garden beyond +the wall. This time there was no doubt in their minds about it. It was +certainly Cecily, taking a little exercise, probably on the deserted +path. + +"I wonder why she _runs_," marveled Marcia. "_I_ shouldn't feel like +running around there all by myself." + +"I think I can understand, though," added Janet. "She's cooped up all +day in that dreary old place, and probably has to keep awfully quiet. +I'd go crazy if I were shut in like that. I'd feel like--like jumping +hurdles when I got out of doors. And she's a country girl, too, +remember. Get your violin, Marcia, and play something. I know it will +comfort her to know we're near by and thinking of her." + +So Marcia brought her violin, and out into the darkness of the night +floated the dreamy, tender melody of the "Traeumerei." The romance of the +situation appealed to her, and she played it as she never had before. + +At the first notes the running footsteps ceased, and there was silence +in the garden. When the music ended, they thought they could distinguish +a soft little sound, half sigh, half sob, from the velvet blackness +below; but they could not be sure. And a little later came the click of +a closing door. + +Marcia put down her violin. "The lonely, lonely little thing!" she +exclaimed, half under her breath. + + * * * * * + +For two days thereafter they maintained a constant, but fruitless, vigil +over "Benedict's Folly." Cecily did not appear, either at her window or +on a marketing expedition. Neither was there any sound of her footsteps +in the garden at night. + +The girls began to worry. Could it be that Miss Benedict had discovered +the truth about the remedy for her sprained ankle and had, perhaps, shut +Cecily up in close confinement, or even sent her away altogether? They +were by this time at a loss as to just what to think of that mysterious +lady. + +On the third afternoon, however, to their intense relief, they saw +Cecily emerge from the house and walk toward the gate, with the +market-basket on her arm. It took them just about a minute and a half to +reach the street. + +Cecily came abreast of their own door-step in due time, her eyes cast +down as usual; but they were waiting in the vestibule, and she did not +see them. + +She was well in advance, but still in sight, when they came down the +steps and strolled in the same direction. It was not till they had +turned the corner that they raced after her, and at last, breathless, +caught up with her. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, with a little start; "I--I did not expect to see +you to-day. I--you mustn't come with me!" In spite of her words, +however, it was evident that she was really delighted by their +unexpected appearance. + +"Look here, Cecily," began Marcia, "why can't we join you when you go to +market or are doing your errands?" + +"Oh, that would be lovely!" answered Cecily--"only Miss Benedict usually +asks me when I come in whether I have met or spoken to any one, and--I +can't tell what isn't true!" + +Here was a poser! The girls looked crestfallen. + +"No--you can't, of course," hesitated Janet. + +"And besides that," went on Cecily, "this is the last time I shall go, +anyhow, because she's very much better now,--the salve helped her ankle +very much,--and she says she's going out herself after this. I don't +expect to get out again." + +There was a moment of horrified silence after this blow. Then Janet, no +longer able to endure the bewilderment, burst out: + +"Cecily dear, please forgive us if we seem to be prying into your +affairs. It's only because we think so much of you. But who _is_ Miss +Benedict, and what is she to you?" + +"I don't know!" said Cecily slowly. + +"You _don't know_!" they gasped in chorus. + +"No, I really don't. It must seem very strange to you, and it does to +me. Miss Benedict is a perfect stranger to me, and no relation, so far +as I know. I never saw or heard of her before I came here." + +"But why _are_ you here then?" demanded Marcia. + +"I--don't know. It's all a mystery to me. But I'm so lonely I've cried +myself to sleep many a night." + +"Won't you tell us all about it?" begged Marcia. "We're your friends, +Cecily,--you say the only ones you have,--and we don't ask just out of +curiosity, but because we're interested in you, and--and love you." + +"Well, I will then," agreed the girl, as they walked along. "I'll just +tell you how it all happened. Ever since I can remember anything, I've +lived in Cranby, a little village in England. Mother and I lived there +together. We never went anywhere, not even up to London, because she was +never very strong. Father was dead; he died when I was a tiny baby, she +told me. We just had a happy, quiet life together, we two. + +"Well, about the beginning of this year, Mother was suddenly taken very, +very ill. I don't know what was the matter, but I hardly had time to +call in a neighbor and then bring the doctor." Cecily paused and choked +down a rising sob. + +"She--she just slipped away before we knew it," she went on, very low. +Marcia pressed her hand in wordless sympathy. Presently Cecily +continued: + +"Afterward, the neighbor, Mrs. Waddington, told me that while I was +fetching the doctor Mother had begged her to see that, if she didn't +recover, I should be taken over to New York, and left with a family +named Benedict, and she had Mrs. Waddington write down the address. But +just then Mother grew so much worse that she couldn't explain why I was +to be taken there, or what they were to me or I to them. After it was +all over we searched everywhere, hoping to find some papers or letters +or something that would tell, but we found nothing. So Mrs. Waddington +kept me with her for two or three months. Then a friend of hers, a Mrs. +Bidwell, was going to the States, and it was arranged that I should go +in her care. About two weeks before we sailed Mrs. Bidwell wrote to the +Benedict family, saying she was bringing me to New York. + +"So we sailed from Liverpool, and the very day we landed, Mrs. Bidwell +brought me here. We rang the old bell at the gate, and then waited and +waited. I thought no one would ever come. But at last the gate opened, +and Miss Benedict stood there in her hat and veil. + +"She acted very strangely from the first. Mrs. Bidwell told her all +about me, and she never said a single word, but only shook her head +several times. I thought she was certainly going to refuse to take me +in, her manner was so odd. After she had stood thinking a long time she +suddenly said to me, 'Come, then!' and to Mrs. Bidwell, 'I thank you!' +And she led me inside, followed by the driver with my box, and shut the +gate." Cecily stopped short, as if that were the end of the story. + +"Oh, but--go on!" stammered Marcia, quivering with impatience. + +"But I must do my marketing now," said Cecily. "Here we are at the shop. +I'll tell you the rest when we come out." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +SURPRISES ALL AROUND + + +"How long have you been in New York?" began Janet, when at last they +emerged from the little shop. + +"About two months," said Cecily. "And I've lived in that place all this +time, and have not known why. Miss Benedict has never explained. She +acts toward me as if I were a lodger, or--or some one she allowed to +stay there for reasons of her own, but didn't particularly want to have +about. She's kind to me, but never--friendly. Sometimes she looks at me +in the strangest way--I can't imagine what she's thinking about. But why +does she live like this?" and she turned inquiring eyes on the girls. + +"I'm sure _we_ don't know!" exclaimed Marcia. "We only wonder about it. +The house seems to be all shut up." + +"Why, it _is_!" Cecily enlightened them. "And it makes it so dark and +gloomy! There is lovely furniture in the drawing-room, but it is all +covered over with some brown stuff--even the pictures. And most of the +other rooms are not used at all--nothing on the ground floor. I eat down +in the basement, and my bedroom is on the top floor--where I looked out +that time. I have never been in any of the other bedrooms except Miss +Benedict's, when her ankle was bad." + +"But what do you do with yourself all day?" asked Janet. + +"I keep my room in order, and help Miss Benedict whenever she lets me. +Of course, she prepares all the food herself, but in such a pretty, +dainty way. But there are a good many hours when the time hangs so heavy +on my hands. Sometimes she lets me dust the rooms on the ground floor. +She keeps everything very, very neat, even if it is all covered up and +never used. The rest of the time I sit in my room and read the few books +I brought with me, and tell myself long stories, or listen to your +music. I dare not now even peep through the shutters. Once I opened +them, when you were playing, but Miss Benedict came in just then and +forbade me to do it again." + +"Doesn't she ever let you go out and take a walk or get a little +exercise?" questioned Marcia. + +"No, the only times I have gone out have been just lately, when her +ankle has been so bad. At night, after it is dark, she lets me run about +the garden a bit, but never in the daytime." + +"But how did she find out about your knowing _us_?" broke in Janet. + +"Why, of course I told her--that first time after you were so good to +me--all about meeting you, and how lovely you were to me. I thought +she'd be so glad I'd found such nice friends. But she looked so +queer--almost frightened, and she said: 'You must not speak to them +again. It was kind of them to help you, but you must not encourage them +in any way. Remember, child!' And I was only trying to obey her when I +passed you without looking up the second time I went out." + +"Cecily," said Marcia, suddenly, "what does Miss Benedict look like, +anyhow? Do you ever see her without that veil? Isn't she very old and +plain?" + +"Why, no," answered Cecily, simply. "She's very beautiful." + +"_What!_" they gasped in chorus. + +"Yes, I was surprised too, that day I came. After the driver had brought +my box into the hall (she wouldn't let him take it any farther), and she +had shut the door behind him and we were left alone, she seemed to--to +hesitate, but at last she raised her hands and took off her bonnet and +veil. I don't know what I expected, but I was surprised to see such a +lovely face. Her hair is gray, almost white, and so soft and wavy. And +yet she has rosy cheeks, and white teeth, and the most beautiful big +gray eyes. And her voice is very sweet, too. Do you know, I believe if +she'd only _let_ me, I could just love her, but she holds me off as if +she were somehow _afraid_ of me. It's all very strange." + +The girls were completely nonplussed by this latest bit of information, +and found it hard to couple Cecily's attractive picture with the little +black-robed and veiled figure that they knew as Miss Benedict. The voice +alone tallied, and Marcia recounted how she had once met Miss Benedict +in the little grocery-shop. Suddenly, however, she was struck by a new +thought, and demanded: + +"But how about the other one?" + +Cecily opened her eyes wide. "Other one?" she queried. "Oh, you mean the +other person in the house?" + +"Why, yes," said Marcia. "The other old lady who sits in the room on the +second floor." + +"Oh, _is_ it an old lady?" inquired Cecily, in surprise. + +"Why, of course! Didn't you know it?" exclaimed Marcia. + +"I knew there was _some_ one in there--some invalid. For Miss Benedict +has always warned me to be very quiet in going by that door, because +some one was ill in there. But she never told me who it was, nor +anything more about her. She always waits on her herself. Even when her +ankle was hurting her so, she would drag herself out of bed many times a +day to go into that room. But tell me, how did _you_ know there was an +old lady in there?" + +Then Marcia recounted what she had seen on the night the wind tore open +the shutter. "How strange this all is," she ended, "that Miss Benedict +should never tell you who this person is! Why do you suppose she is +keeping it a secret?" + +As this was a problem none of them could solve, they could only +conjecture vainly about it as they walked along. But by this time they +had approached within a block of the house itself, and before they +turned the corner once more they all unconsciously halted. + +"Cecily," said Marcia, suddenly inspired with a bright idea. "I have the +grandest scheme! If Miss Benedict is going to do the marketing after +this, perhaps we won't see you again for some time. But I've a plan by +which we can _hear_ from each other as often as we like. You take a walk +in the garden every night, don't you?" + +"No, not always," answered Cecily. "Miss Benedict allows me to, but +often I don't care to. It's so dark and--and lonesome." + +"Well, after this, be sure to go out every night. Our window, you know, +is directly over the garden wall, only three stories up. I'm going to +have a long string with a weight attached to it, and fasten it in the +window. Every night, after dark, we'll write a note to you, fasten it to +the string, and drop it down into the garden among the bushes. You can +find it in the dark by feeling for the string, and if you have one +written to us, you can fasten it on, and we'll pull it up. Isn't that a +dandy idea?" + +Cecily's eyes sparkled for a moment, but suddenly her face clouded. "Oh, +it--it would be glorious!" she murmured. "Only--I must not. Even if Miss +Benedict doesn't know about it, I know she would forbid it if she did. +So--it would be wrong for me to do it!" + +"Oh, Cecily! why should you care?" cried Marcia, impatiently, "And why +should she object to three girls sending little notes to one another? It +would be cruel to forbid that. It isn't really wrong, you know." + +"But she isn't cruel to me," Cecily interrupted. "You mustn't think +that. She--well, somehow, I feel she _would_ be nice to me, only +something is holding her back. She isn't a bit cruel. I sometimes feel +as if I could care for her in spite of everything. So I don't want to go +against her wishes." + +"Well, then," began Janet, "here's a way out of it. We will write to +_you_ anyway. Miss Benedict can't forbid us to do that, and you needn't +answer at all--needn't even read them, if you don't want to. But we'll +write, nevertheless, and you can't prevent it!" + +When Cecily smiled, her face lit up as if touched by a shaft of +sunlight. And she smiled now. + +"I don't believe I _ought_ to read them," she said; "but, oh! it would +keep me from being so very lonely. But I must be going back now. I've +been longer than usual. Good-by!" + +Cecily was still smiling as she turned away, while Janet and Marcia +stood looking after her, waving farewell to her as she rounded the +corner. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AT THE END OF THE STRING + + +It was past midnight, that night, before the two girls could settle +themselves for a wink of sleep. So bewildering had been Cecily's +revelations about herself and Miss Benedict and the conditions in the +mysterious house, that they found inexhaustible food for discussion and +conjecture. + +The most interesting question, of course, was the absorbing mystery of +how Cecily came to be there at all. + +"Why should her mother have sent her there?" demanded Marcia, for the +twentieth time. + +"Perhaps she was a relative," ventured Janet. + +"That's perfect nonsense," argued Marcia, "for then Miss Benedict would +surely have acted quite differently. If she had been the most distant +connection, Miss Benedict would surely have told her. No, I should say +she might be the child of a friend that Miss Benedict never cared +particularly about, and yet she doesn't quite like to send her away. +Isn't it a puzzle? But what _do_ you think of Miss Benedict being +_beautiful_! I can't imagine it!" + +"And then, too, think of Cecily's not knowing there was another old lady +in the house!" added Janet. + +"What a darling Cecily is!" exclaimed Marcia, irrelevantly. "If Miss +Benedict knew how sweet and loyal and obedient Cecily is, she'd be a +little less strict with her, I'm sure. I suppose she doesn't want her to +gossip about what goes on in that queer house. And, by the way, we must +get our string in working order to-morrow. Let's send her other things +beside notes, too--things she'd enjoy." + +And until they fell asleep they planned the campaign for lightening the +lonely hours of the girl next door. + +[Illustration: "They heard Cecily's light footsteps"] + +Next day they jointly wrote a long letter,--telling all about +themselves, their homes, their schools, their studies, and any other +items they thought might interest her,--fastened it to the end of the +string, and dropped it into the dark garden after nightfall. Later they +heard Cecily's light footsteps in the gloom below, and when they pulled +up the string just before they went to bed, the note was gone. + +"Well, she's evidently decided that it would be all right for her to +take it," said Janet; "and I'm relieved, even if she doesn't answer. I +can see why she mightn't think it right to do _that_. And now we must +plan to send her something besides, every once in a while. I should +think she'd just die of lonesomeness in that old place, and with hardly +a thing to do, either!" + +That night they sent her down a little box of fudge that they had made +in the afternoon, and the next night a book that had captivated them +both. And when they pulled up the string the evening after, there was +the book again, and in it a tiny note, which ran: + + DEAR GIRLS: You are too, too good to me. I ought not to be writing + this. It is wrong, I fear, but I just cannot sleep until I have + thanked you for the sweets, and this beautiful book. I read it + all, to-day. You are making me very happy. I love you both. + + CECILY. + +Meantime, they had seen Miss Benedict go in and out once or twice, +limping slightly, and had watched her veiled figure with absorbed +interest. + +"Who could possibly imagine her as beautiful!" they marveled. And truly, +it was an effort of imagination to connect beauty with the queer, oddly +arrayed little figure. + +Also, at various times during each day, Marcia made a point of giving a +little violin concert at her window, and, at Janet's suggestion, had +chosen the liveliest and most cheerful music in her repertoire for sad +little Cecily's entertainment. + +The two girls likewise exhausted every possibility in the line of small +gifts and tiny trifles to amuse and entertain their young neighbor. But +there was no further communication from her till one night after they +had sent down an embroidery ring and silks, the latest pattern of a +dainty boudoir-cap, and elaborate instructions how to embroider it. Next +night there was a note on the end of the string when they drew it up. It +read: + + How dear of you to send me this! I _love_ to embroider, and had + brought no materials with me. And now I want to ask you a + question. Do you mind what I do with it after it is finished? Is + it my very own? What can I ever do to repay you for all your + kindness! + +In their answer they assured her that she could make any use of the +boudoir-cap that pleased her. And then they spent much time wondering +what use she _was_ going to make of it. + +Two nights later, when they pulled up the string, they found, to their +surprise, a small parcel attached to the end. It contained a little box +in which lay, wrapped in jeweler's cotton, a tiny coral pendant in an +old-fashioned gold setting, and a silver bracelet of thin filigree-work. +The pendant was labeled, "For Marcia, with Cecily's love," and the +bracelet, "For Janet, with love from Cecily." + +The two girls gazed at the pathetic little gifts and sudden tears came +into their eyes. + +"Oh, Jan!" half sobbed Marcia; "we oughtn't to keep them! They're +probably the only trinkets she has." + +But Janet was wiser. "We must keep them," she decided. "Cecily doesn't +want all the giving to be on one side, and she has probably been longing +to do something for us. I suppose these are the only things she had that +would be suitable. Much as I hate to have her deprive herself of them, I +know she'd be terribly hurt if we sent them back. To-morrow we must +write her the best letter of thanks we can." + +So the days went by for two or three weeks. The girls caught, in all +this time, not so much as one glimpse of Cecily, but they managed, +thanks to their "line of communication," to keep constantly in touch +with her. Meantime, the summer weather waxed hotter and hotter, and the +city fairly steamed under the July sun. Their own time was taken up by +many diversions: trips to the parks, beaches, and zoo; excursions out +of town with Aunt Minerva; shopping, and quiet sewing or reading in +their pleasant living-room. Every time they went out of their home on a +pleasure-jaunt, they felt guilty, to think of the lonely little prisoner +cooped up in the dreary house next door, and both declared they would +gladly give up their places to her, had such a thing been possible. + +Then, one night, something unusual occurred. They had sent down the +usual note, and also a little work-basket of Indian-woven sweet-grass, +the souvenir of a recent trip to the seaside. To their astonishment, +when they drew up the string, both note and basket were still attached. +This was the first time such a thing had happened. + +"What _can_ be the matter?" queried Marcia. "Can it be possible that +Cecily feels she mustn't do this any more?" + +"_I_ didn't hear any footsteps down there to-night, did you?" said +Janet. + +"No, come to think of it, I didn't. She must have stayed indoors for the +first time since we began this. But what do you suppose is the reason?" + +Janet suddenly clutched her friend. "Marcia, can it be possible that +Miss Benedict has discovered what we've been doing, and won't let her +come out any more?" + +"I believe that's it!" Marcia's voice was sharp with consternation. +"Wouldn't it be dreadful, if it's so?" They sat gloomily thinking it +over. + +"Well, what are we going to do about it?" demanded Marcia. + +"Wait till to-morrow night and try again," counseled Janet. "It's just +possible Cecily had a headache or felt sick from this abominable heat +and couldn't come down. Let's see what happens to-morrow." + +The next night they tied the basket and another note to the string and +dropped it down hopefully. But they drew it up untouched, precisely the +same as before. + +"It's just one of two things," decided Marcia. "Either Cecily is ill or +Miss Benedict has found out about our little plan and forbidden Cecily +to go on with it. What are we to do? Keep on sending notes, or stop it? +Suppose Miss Benedict herself should find one sometime." + +"I don't care!" cried Janet, decisively. "If Cecily is ill, she'll get +better pretty soon and come out some night, and there'll be nothing for +her. She'd be dreadfully disappointed. I don't care if there _is_ the +possibility that Miss Benedict knows all about it. I'm going to keep +right on writing and take the chance!" + +For a whole week they followed their usual program, nightly sending down +a fresh note that they always later drew up, unclaimed. And as the days +passed they became more and more alarmed. Something had certainly +happened to Cecily. Of that they were sure, and their misgivings grew +more keen with the passing time. + +"Can it be that she isn't there any more?" conjectured Marcia, suddenly, +one day. "Perhaps Miss Benedict has sent her away!" + +This was a new and startling possibility. The more they contemplated it, +the more depressed they grew. If that were the case, then, they might +never see Cecily again, and the delightful and curious friendship would +be ended forever. + +Their usual good spirits were quite subdued, and even their hearty +appetites suffered somewhat, which worried Aunt Minerva not a little, +though she attributed it to the heat. Finally, one night, precisely one +week after the first unclaimed communication, they sent down the usual +letter, begging Cecily, if possible, to let them know what was the +matter. It seemed to both, during the interval they left it there, that +they heard light, almost stealthy footsteps in the garden below. But +neither felt certain about it. An hour later they drew up the string. +Their own note was still attached to it at the bottom, but just above it +they saw fastened a little scrap of paper, no bigger than a quarter of +an ordinary note-sheet. Both girls started with delight. + +"Quick!" cried Marcia. "Cecily has answered at last! Oh, I'm so glad!" + +Janet unfastened it, her fingers trembling with excitement, and spread +it out on the table. + +It was not in Cecily's handwriting, and contained but a few words. Both +girls read it at a glance, and then stared into each other's eyes, half +terror-stricken, half amazed. For this is what it said: + + Will you please come to the gate to-morrow morning at half-past + nine? + + A. BENEDICT. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +FOR THE SAKE OF CECILY + + +"What _can_ it mean?" muttered Janet. "What does she want of us?" + +"Why, it's perfectly plain," declared Marcia. "She has discovered that +we have been trying to correspond with Cecily, and she's going to demand +an explanation--probably warn us that we must stop it. Are you--afraid +to go, Janet?" + +"Not I! Why should I be? Miss Benedict can't do or say a thing to harm +_us_! But I _am_ anxious for poor little Cecily. I just hate to think we +may have brought trouble on her." + +"Oh, I wish now we'd never suggested such a thing!" moaned Marcia. +"We've just succeeded in making that poor little thing miserable, I +suppose." + +"Well, we can only remember that we _meant_ to make her happy, and we +_did_--for a while, at least," comforted Janet. "And what's more, I'm +not going to worry about it another bit to-night. Maybe it's something +entirely different, anyway." + +Marcia, however, could not bring herself to this cheerful view of +things. All night long she tossed beside the sleeping Janet, wondering +and wondering about what the coming interview might mean, and blaming +herself a thousand times for placing Cecily in the position of having +deceived her guardian. When morning came she was pale and heavy-eyed, +which alarmed her aunt not a little. + +"You ought not go out this morning, Marcia," remarked Miss Minerva, +anxiously. "The sun is very hot, and you look as if you had a headache." + +"Oh, no, I haven't, Aunty!" cried Marcia, eagerly, fearful of a hitch in +their plans. "I didn't sleep very well, but a walk in the fresh air will +do me good, I know." And so Miss Minerva saw them go, without further +protest. + +They both halted at the gate in the brick wall and looked into each +other's eyes. The hot morning sun beat down upon them as they stood +there, and passers-by eyed them curiously. Each was perfectly certain +that the thumping of her heart could be heard. And still they stood, +hesitating. + +"You're afraid!" accused Janet. + +"I'm--not!" protested Marcia. "And I'll prove it!" She raised her hand +suddenly--and pulled the rusty bell-handle. + +It seemed a long, long time before there was any response. But at last +they heard the click of the opening front door and the sound of +footsteps on the path. This was followed by the creaking of a key +turning in the lock of the gate. Janet gripped Marcia by the hand, and +with pounding hearts they stood together, while the gate slowly opened. +In another instant, the veiled, black-gowned figure of Miss Benedict +stood before them. She waited a moment, silent, appearing to look them +over critically. + +"Come in, if you please!" she said at last, very softly, and held the +gate open for them. They entered obediently, and she shut the gate. It +was not until they were inside the house, standing in the dim hall with +the front door closed behind them, that another word was spoken. Then +Miss Benedict faced them again, but she did not remove her bonnet or +throw back her veil. + +"I have asked you to come here this morning," she began, "because I +understand that you have become acquainted with the child Cecily +Marlowe." + +Cold chills ran up and down their spines. It had come at last! "Yes," +faltered Janet, "we--we _have_ become acquainted with her." It was not a +brilliant reply, but, for the life of her, she could think of nothing +else to say. They waited, shuddering, for what might be coming next. + +"So she has told me," went on Miss Benedict. "I also understand that +lately you have been dropping notes to her into the garden--at night." + +Janet noticed, even in the midst of her trepidation, how wonderfully +sweet and soft and harmonious the voice was. + +"Yes," replied Marcia, very low, "we have." The worst was out--now let +the blow fall! They braced themselves to receive it. + +"Cecily is ill!" said Miss Benedict, abruptly. + +They each uttered a startled little "Oh!" + +"She has not been at all well for over a week," the lovely voice +continued. "I am very much worried about her." + +Janet and Marcia glanced into each other's eyes in astonishment. Cecily +ill--and Miss Benedict actually _caring_ about it! Here were surprises +indeed! + +"Oh, I hope it's nothing serious!" exclaimed Marcia, anxiously. + +"I hope it is not--and I _think_ it is probably only the hot weather +and--and want of exercise." Miss Benedict hesitated a little over the +last. "She has been so--poorly, and has--has evidently been so anxious +to--to see you, that I thought I would--surprise her by asking you to +come and--visit her a while." It was plainly a struggle for Miss +Benedict to make this seem the natural, normal thing to do. "Will +you--come up to her room?" + +The girls were almost too stunned at the turn events had taken to reply. +"Why--we'd be glad to," faltered Marcia, at last. + +"Then, if you will follow me--" Miss Benedict led the way, through the +dark halls and up three pairs of stairs. At the door of a room on the +fourth floor she paused, knocked, and then entered. They followed, dimly +perceiving a little form in the bed, for the shutters, of course, were +closed. As they entered after Miss Benedict Cecily sprang to a sitting +posture, with a cry of mingled wonder, consternation, and joy. She, too, +glanced uncertainly at Miss Benedict. + +"I have asked your friends to come and--and see you for a while," she +explained hesitatingly to the bewildered child. "Perhaps it will make +you--feel better." Then she turned abruptly and went out of the room, +closing the door after her. + +For a moment they stared at one another. + +"Cecily!" cried Janet, at length, "what _does_ this all mean, anyway?" + +"I never dreamed of such a thing as seeing you--here!" faltered the +invalid. + +"What made her do it?" demanded Marcia. "We found a note from her tied +to our string. How did she know about it?" + +Cecily seemed to shrink back at this piece of news. "I told her, +myself," she said. "I was very sick one night--I think I had a fever. My +head was so hot and ached so. And she was--oh! so good to me! I could +hardly believe it! She bathed my head, and sat by me, and put her cool +hands on my forehead. It really seemed as if she--cared! And I felt so +ashamed to think I'd--disobeyed her that I just told her right out all +about it--how lonely I'd been, and how good you were to me, and how I'd +enjoyed hearing from you." + +"And what did she say?" breathed Marcia, in an awe-struck whisper. + +"Not a word except, 'Never mind now, little girl!' And she never said a +thing more about it. I didn't dream that she'd ever do such a thing as +_send_ for you to come and see me!" + +They marveled over it all a moment in silence. Then Marcia burst out: +"Oh, Cecily, we've been _so_ worried about you! We couldn't think why +you didn't even take the letters any more. Have you been very ill?" + +"Why, I don't know--I just feel horrid most of the time. My head aches a +lot, and every once in a while I'm awfully cold, and then I seem to be +burning up--" + +"Why, I believe you must have malaria!" interrupted Marcia. "That's what +Aunt Minerva has sometimes. You ought to go out more, and have fresh air +and--sunshine--" She stopped suddenly, remembering the conditions. "But +anyway, it isn't serious," she hurried on, after an embarrassed pause. +"And you ought to have some quinine. I wonder if Miss Benedict would let +us get it for you. I'll ask her, later." Then they hurried on to tell +her how they had continued to send down a note every night, hoping that +she would get it, and how they had feared that she might have gone away. + +And Cecily, in return, told them how she had enjoyed the notes and +gifts, but how guilty she had always felt about receiving them, +especially when she had answered them. + +"And I finished embroidering the boudoir-cap," she ended, "and--and I +gave it to Miss Benedict." + +"You _did_?" they both gasped. + +"Oh, I _hope_ you don't mind!" exclaimed Cecily, hastily; "but--but I +felt as if I wanted to _do_ something for her. She--I--I think I'm +getting to like her--more and more." + +"What did she say?" asked Marcia. "Was she pleased? I can't imagine her +wearing such a thing." + +"She looked at it and then at me--very strangely for a minute. Then she +said: 'Thank you, child. I--I never wear such things, but I'll keep +it--for your sake!'" + +"Isn't that queer!" exclaimed Janet. "You thought she cared nothing +about you!" + +"Yes," agreed Cecily; "but lately--I'm not so sure." + +In the pause that followed, the girls glanced curiously about the +darkened room, trying to realize that they were actually inside the +mysterious house at last. It was a large, square room, furnished with +heavy chairs and an old-fashioned bureau and bed. Every shutter was +fastened and the slats tightly closed. Only the dimmest daylight +filtered in. The effect was gloomy and depressing to the last degree. +They wondered how Cecily had stood it so long. + +[Illustration: "I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these +shutters," cried Janet, suddenly] + +"I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these shutters," cried +Janet, suddenly. "I should think you'd die of this gloom. It's really +bad for you, Cecily!" + +"Oh, don't!" exclaimed Cecily, in consternation. "I asked her once, when +I first came, and she didn't like it at all! She said no, she preferred +to have them shut, and I must not touch them." + +"I don't care!" went on Janet, ruthlessly. "You weren't sick then. I'm +sure she'd let you now!" And, true to her word, she turned to Miss +Benedict, who entered at this moment, still bonneted and veiled. + +"I believe Cecily has malaria, Miss Benedict," she began bravely, but +with inward trepidation. + +"Oh, do you think so? Is it serious?" The melodious voice sounded +startled and concerned. + +"I don't think it's so serious," Janet continued, "but she'd probably +get over it quicker if she had a lot of fresh air and sunshine. Couldn't +she have the shutters open? It would do her lots of good." + +Cecily and Marcia trembled at Janet's temerity and watched Miss Benedict +with bated breath. But instead of being annoyed, she only seemed +surprised and relieved. + +"Why, do you think so?" she queried. "Then--surely they may be opened. +I--I do not like the--the glare of so much daylight myself, but Cecily +may have it here, if she chooses." And following up her words, she +pushed open one of the shutters. A broad shaft of sunlight streamed in, +and, blinking from the previous gloom, Janet and Marcia threw open +the others. + +Cecily gave a delighted cry, "Oh, how lovely it is to see the sun +again!" But Miss Benedict, with an abrupt exclamation, retreated hastily +from the room. + +The girls stayed a few moments more, chatting. Then they wisely +suggested that perhaps they had better go, and not tire Cecily by too +long a call. Hearing Miss Benedict's footstep in the hall below, they +took their leave, promising to come again, as soon as it seemed best. On +the landing of the stairway they found the black-veiled figure +apparently waiting for them. + +Now, during all the strange little interview, a curious impression had +been growing upon Janet, strengthened by every word Miss Benedict had +uttered--an impression that here was no grim, forbidding jailor, such as +they had imagined the mistress of "Benedict's Folly" to be. Instead, +they had encountered a gentle, almost winning, little person, worried +about the illness of the child in her care and plainly anxious to do +everything suggested to make her more comfortable. Janet suddenly +resolved on a bold move. + +"Cecily is so lonely," she began, turning to Miss Benedict. "Don't you +think it would do her lots of good to come in and visit us once in a +while? Marcia's aunt would be so glad to see her. As soon as she is a +little better, can't she--" + +"No," interrupted Miss Benedict, her little figure suddenly stiffening +and a determined note creeping into her soft voice. "I am sorry. Cecily +cannot make visits. It is out of the question!" + +It was like striking a hidden rock in a smooth, beautiful sheet of +water. And her words admitted of no argument. Janet and Marcia followed +her meekly and in silence down to the front door. Here, in an uncertain +pause, Marcia made one further suggestion. + +"May we bring Cecily some quinine?" she ventured. "If she has malaria, +she ought to have that. We have lots of it at home." + +"It would be very kind of you," replied Miss Benedict, in an entirely +different tone. "Come to-morrow and see her again--if your aunt will +permit it. Perhaps it would be well to explain to her--" and here her +manner became confused--"that--I--er--do not make calls or--or receive +them, but this is just--just for the sake of the child." It was plain to +the girls that this admission was wrung from her only by a great effort. +She opened the front door and followed them to the gate. When she had +unlocked it, Marcia turned to her impulsively. + +"Thank you _so_ much for letting us come! We are very, very fond of +Cecily. She is such a dear, and we've been terribly worried about her. +As a relative, I'm afraid you have been still more anxious." + +The black figure started. "She is no relative of mine!" came abruptly +from behind the veil. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon, I should say--_friend_," stuttered Marcia, +embarrassed, "or--or the daughter of a friend, perhaps." + +"She is not," Miss Benedict contradicted, in a strange, flat tone, as if +repeating a lesson. "I do not know who she is--nor why she is here!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE FILIGREE BRACELET + + +Aunt Minerva took off her silver-rimmed spectacles, wiped them +excitedly, and put them on again. + +"And she said she didn't know who the child was or why she was there? +Well--I--never!" she exclaimed, adjusting them all awry. + +Marcia had decided to tell her aunt all about it. And Janet had agreed +with her that since Miss Benedict had spoken as she did, there could be +no further occasion for secrecy. So that night they gave her an entire +history of the affair, and found her a willing listener, interested and +sympathetic beyond their wildest expectations. + +"Why, Aunty, I didn't suppose you'd care much about it!" exclaimed +Marcia, in surprise. "And here you are, nearly as excited over it as +we've been." + +"Why, who would not be?" said Miss Minerva. "It's precisely like a +mystery in a book. I wasn't interested in the old place at first, +because I was too busy and it seemed as if the people living there were +such slack housekeepers. I haven't any sympathy with _that_. But what +could she mean by that last remark? Not know who the child is--or why +she's there! It's absurd! I can't believe it!" + +"Well, that's what she _said_!" asserted Marcia, again. "And if any one +ever heard of a bigger mystery, I'd like to know about it!" + +Miss Minerva took up her mending again. "Then I don't see why she keeps +the girl," she commented. + +"She keeps her, _I_ think, because she's getting sort of fond of her," +reasoned Janet. "You can easily see that. Cecily said she was very good +to her the night she was so ill. And then, too, it must have been a hard +pull for her to go so far as to send for _us_ to come in just because it +might please Cecily." + +"We must see that the child has the quinine, and it wouldn't hurt her to +have a glass or two of currant jelly. Don't forget them when you go in +to-morrow," Miss Minerva reminded them. "I'd like to have her here and +nurse her myself and feed her up a bit. And that's another strange +thing--why should that woman" (Miss Minerva invariably alluded to Miss +Benedict as "that woman") "allow you to go in and visit the child, yet +forbid her to visit you?" + +"Don't ask us why," laughed Marcia. "We're as much in the dark as any +one else. What _I_ want to know is why did Miss Benedict allow Cecily to +open her shutters to-day when she refused her a while ago. And why +doesn't she open them over all the rest of the house?" + +"Well, what _I_ want to know," added Janet, "is why Cecily's mother +should have sent her over here to the Benedicts' at all, when nobody +knew her or claimed her. Whatever made her think of such a thing?" + +"There are several explanations that might suit such a case," mused +Miss Minerva. "Mrs. Marlowe might have been a married sister, or some +more distant relative, who--" + +"Then wouldn't Miss Benedict know about it--or at least _suspect_ some +such connection?" interrupted Marcia. + +"That's true," acknowledged her aunt. "There _must_ be some other +explanation. _What_ a puzzle!" + +"What's more," added Janet, "I remember that Cecily told us this: when +she first came, Miss Benedict questioned her all about herself--where +she came from, and all that. And after Cecily had told her she never +said a word, but just walked away, shaking her head." + +Miss Minerva's mind suddenly took a new turn. "Didn't you say the child +sent you a couple of gifts--little trinkets--not long ago? I'd like to +see them." + +"We've never worn them," said Marcia. "It just seemed as if we +couldn't--she ought not to have given them away. And yet--I know just +how she felt--she wanted to do _something_! I'll get them." She brought +the box and laid it in her aunt's lap. + +Miss Minerva examined the coral pendant first. "The dear little thing!" +she murmured. "She must think a lot of you to have parted with this!" +Then she laid it down and took up the bracelet. "Gracious!" she +exclaimed immediately, letting it fall and then picking it up again. "Am +I going crazy, or are my eyes deceiving me?" She turned it over and +over. + +"What's the matter?" cried both girls at once. + +"_Matter?_" cried Miss Minerva. "Why, just this: that bracelet is +exactly like one I've had put away for years!" The girls stared at her +incredulously. "I'll get it this minute and prove it!" And she hurried +out of the room. + +While she was gone they examined the bracelet more closely than they had +yet done. It consisted of two thin rims of silver, joined by silver +filigree-work, a quarter of an inch wide. Here and there, at intervals +in the filigree, and forming part of the pattern, were several strange +characters, looking, as Marcia declared, like those on the receipt from +a Chinese laundry. The workmanship was unusually delicate and beautiful. + +In five minutes Miss Minerva was back, flushed and disheveled, from a +hunt through several bureau-drawers and boxes. + +"I couldn't find it at first," she panted. "In Northam I used to be able +to lay my hand on anything I wanted, at an instant's notice, but in this +apartment!" She heaved a resigned sigh and laid something beside the +bracelet on the table. + +It was the exact duplicate--in every last detail! Even the complicated +characters were identical! The three stared at the trinkets in an +expressive silence. Not for a moment could it be doubted that these two +bracelets were once a pair. They were so unusual that it was impossible +there could be others like them. This astonishing fact was patent to +them all. + +"Aunt Minerva, where _did_ you get yours?" breathed Marcia, at last. + +"Why, that's easily explained," answered Miss Brett. "Your father +brought it to me about ten or twelve years ago, after one of his +voyages. He said that a Chinese sailor in Hong-Kong had offered to sell +it to him for a small sum, and seeing it was a rather unique little +trinket, he bought it and brought it home to me. I never wear such +things, however. Jewelry never did appeal to me, and bracelets, +particularly, always seemed a nuisance. So I put it away intending to +give it to you some day, Marcia. And after a while I actually forgot all +about it--till to-night!" + +Janet sat up very straight. "There's just one thing I'd give my head to +know--this minute! _Where_ did Cecily get _her_ bracelet?" + +"Well, that you can easily find out--but I'm afraid you'll have to wait +till to-morrow morning!" laughed Marcia. + +"There's something very strange about this," marveled Miss Minerva, +turning the two trinkets over and over. "Actually, I can hardly tell +now which is mine and which hers, except that mine is a little more +tarnished from having been laid away. Your father said, when he gave me +mine, that he'd never seen anything like it in any of those foreign +jewelry-shops and that was why he'd been specially attracted to it." + +"Aunty," said Marcia, suddenly, "where do you suppose that sailor got +it?" + +"Your father said," replied Miss Minerva, "that he'd probably stolen it, +or somebody else had. It may have passed through dozens of hands after +it was taken from the original owner. You never can tell about such +things in the East, and it's useless to inquire." + +Again they all stared hard at the two silver trinkets, lying side by +side on the table. + +"And these two bracelets once belonged to the same person," murmured +Marcia, at last; "perhaps to some one connected with Cecily. And to +think they should have drifted halfway around the world to find +themselves side by side again in busy, practical New York!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE LIFTED VEIL + + +Next morning Marcia and Janet sallied forth to make their promised visit +to Cecily. They were armed with a box of quinine pills, two glasses of +currant jelly, a new magazine, Marcia's violin in its case, and, last, +but not least, the two filigree bracelets. And they were literally +bursting with news and excitement. + +Miss Benedict opened the gate for them as before, and to their inquiries +replied that Cecily seemed a little better. If she noticed the +suppressed excitement in their manner, she did not comment upon it, but +only led the way to Cecily's room without further words. She was +bonneted and veiled as usual. At the door she left them, saying she +would not go in. + +"Cecily, Cecily!" cried Marcia, immediately; "we have news--such strange +news for you!" Cecily was at once all eagerness and animation. + +"Oh, tell me, quickly!" she exclaimed, sitting up in the bed. "I feel so +much better. I'm going to get up to-day. But how can you have any +news--about me?" + +"Cecily," said Janet, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "have you +been thinking, all this time, that Miss Benedict knew everything about +you, and why you came here, and all that?" + +"Why, of course!" cried Cecily, opening her eyes wide. "She has never +explained it to me, and she's so--_queer_ that I never liked to ask her. +But I always thought she _knew_!" + +"Well, she doesn't--not a thing, apparently," replied Janet, and then +repeated to her all the strange conversation at the gate on the day +before. + +When she had finished, Cecily sat as if stunned--quiet and rigid and +staring out of the window. So much had it appeared to affect her that +Janet was suddenly sorry she had said a word about it. + +"Then--what does it all mean?" murmured Cecily, at last. "I'm here +where I've no right to be. Nobody knows me--or wants me. How did it all +happen? Don't I belong to _anybody_?" She looked so bewildered, so +frightened, so unhappy, that Janet and Marcia both put their arms about +her. + +"It's all right, Cecily; it's _sure_ to be all right--in the end. _We_ +would love you and want you if nobody else did. And I'm sure Miss +Benedict must care for you too. She really acts so. But the question is, +how did you ever come to be sent here at all? Didn't your mother ever +say anything to you about this place or any of the people over here?" + +"No," said Cecily, in a hushed voice. It was evident from her manner +that her grief over the loss of her mother was very keen, and she had +only once voluntarily referred to it or to anything connected with it. + +"My mother never, never mentioned the name of Benedict to me,--I never +heard of it before." + +"But couldn't Miss Benedict possibly have been some connection--some +distant connection that she never thought of or mentioned?" persisted +Marcia. + +"No--my mother's people were all English," declared Cecily, "and they +were all dead. We had no relatives living." + +"Well, your father, then?" supplemented Janet. "What about him?" + +"I never knew him to remember him. Mother said he died when I was a baby +a year or two old. He hadn't any relatives, either." + +"Well, here's something else we have to tell you, and it's the strangest +thing yet," began Janet. "Can you tell us where you got that bracelet, +Cecily,--the one you were so lovely as to send to us?" + +"Why, I always had it," answered Cecily. "Even when I was a tiny little +girl and it was much too big for me, it seemed to be mine. Mother kept +it in a box, but she let me play with it once in a while. Then when I +was older and it fitted me better, she let me wear it. I _think_ she +said my father gave it to me. I don't remember very clearly. I don't +believe I ever thought much about it, although I realized it was rather +unusual. But why do you ask?" + +"Did she ever say it had a mate--that there was a pair of them?" +questioned Marcia. + +"Oh, no! I'm sure she never said anything about another." + +"What do you think of this, then?" Marcia drew the two bracelets out of +her bag, and laid them side by side on the bed. + +"Why, how very, very _queer_!" cried Cecily, incredulously. "Where _did_ +you get the other?" + +Marcia outlined its history. "You see, there isn't a shadow of doubt +that there was once a pair of them," she ended, "and that they both +belonged to the same person. Now _who_ could that person be?" + +"It must have been some one connected with you, Cecily," added Janet. +"Everything points that way. Well, one thing is certain: if we could +find out the truth about these two bracelets, I believe we'd find out +about Cecily, too--why she is here and the whole mystery!" + +All three were very silent for a moment, considering. + +"I know one thing," ventured Marcia, at length. "Cecily, you must _not_ +give this bracelet away. It was dear and sweet of you to think of it in +the first place--and we'll keep the little coral pendant for both of us +if you like. But the bracelet is something that may mean a great deal to +you yet, and you ought to have it. Don't you agree with me, Janet?" + +"I certainly do," added Janet, heartily; "and what's more, I've thought +of something else. When Captain Brett comes home next time, he _may_ be +able to tell us something more about the other bracelet. When do you +expect him, Marcia?" + +"Not for two or three months," replied Marcia, ruefully. "I'd give +anything if it could only be sooner. It seems as if we _never_ could +wait that long!" + +"Well, let's not think of it just now," comforted Janet. "I don't +suppose we can find out anything till he _does_ come, so there's no use +fretting. How would you like to hear some music, Cecily? Marcia's +brought her violin." + +"How good of you!" cried Cecily, an almost pathetic eagerness in her +voice. "It will be wonderful to hear it near by!" + +So Marcia opened the case and took out the instrument, tuned it, tucked +it lovingly under her chin, and slipped into a rollicking Hungarian +dance by Brahms, while her little audience listened spellbound. + +"Oh, something else, please!" sighed Cecily, blissfully, when it was +ended. And Marcia, changing the theme, gave them the lullaby from +"Jocelyn," and after that Beethoven's Minuet in G. + +"Just _one_ more," begged Cecily; "that is--if you're not too tired. The +one I--I like so much!" + +"I know--the 'Traeumerei,'" nodded Marcia, and once more laid her bow +across the strings. + +When the last note had died away, they were all suddenly startled by a +strange sound just outside the door--a sound that was partly a sob and +partly a half-stifled exclamation. + +Before she quite realized what she was doing, Janet, who happened to be +sitting near the door, sprang up and threw it open. + +[Illustration: "In the sudden light of the open door she stood +revealed"] + +In the hall outside stood Miss Benedict, her hands clasped tensely in +front of her. But, strangest of all, her veil was thrown back from her +face, and in the sudden light of the open door she stood revealed! In an +instant they realized that Cecily had not exaggerated the beauty of her +singularly lovely face. She plainly had been listening, captivated, to +the music within the room, and something about it must have stirred her +strangely. + +All this they noticed in the fraction of a moment, for, as she saw them, +she pulled down her veil with a hasty movement, murmuring something +about having heard music and coming to see what it was. + +But she did not pull it down quickly enough to hide one fact from the +gaze of the two girls--that her beautiful gray eyes were brimming with +tears! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +MISS BENEDICT SPEAKS + + +It was Miss Minerva who decided that Miss Benedict must be told about +the coincidence of the two bracelets. + +"Certainly, she ought to know!" she declared positively. "There must be +_some_ reason why that child has been sent to her, and she ought to be +told all the facts concerning her. Who knows but what _she_ may have +some explanation of this bracelet mystery! You tell her the very next +time you go in. And don't forget to take a jar of that quince marmalade, +besides." Aunt Minerva had determined on keeping Cecily well supplied +with toothsome dainties, which commodities, she keenly suspected, were +scarce in the big house. In fact, the girls had told her that the +marketing for that establishment, so far as they had seen, seemed to +consist mainly of milk and eggs, rice and prunes! + +So a day or two after, when they visited Cecily again, they planned to +have an interview with her guardian. Marcia was shy about broaching the +subject, so the task was left to Janet, who, being anxious to settle the +matter immediately, began it as soon as the gate was opened. + +"Miss Benedict," she said, "there is something quite strange about +Cecily that we should like to tell you. Could you spare a few moments to +hear about it?" + +"Why--er--of course!" replied the little black-veiled lady, in a rather +startled voice. "Will you--er--that is, I will come to her room in a +little while--if you will kindly close the shutters--first!" And she +directed them to proceed upstairs, without this time accompanying them. + +Cecily was overjoyed at their appearance. She was sitting by the window, +fully dressed, the sunshine streaming in on her, transforming her curls +into a radiant halo. A definite change had come over her during the +last few days, caused, no doubt, by the enjoyment of light and sunshine +and companionship. She was losing some of her former wan, wistful, +frightened aspect, and assuming more of the confiding, sunny +characteristics that were natural to her. At the moment the girls +entered she was reading a magazine brought by them on their previous +visit. + +After the first greetings and chat they reported their conversation with +Miss Benedict. + +"She's coming up soon," ended Marcia, "and we must get the shutters +closed. But what on earth _for_? Why _can't_ she be like ordinary people +and enjoy the air and sunshine like the rest of us? Do _you_ know, +Cecily?" + +"No, I can't imagine. It has all seemed very strange to me ever since I +came. But you know how odd Miss Benedict is. I can't abide asking her +any questions, and she never explains anything. The whole house is +darkened like this all the time, and since she let me open my shutters, +she's never once been in this room in the daytime. She never goes out +without that heavy veil, not even into the garden. I don't understand +it!" + +"Do you know," suggested Marcia, half under her breath, "one would +almost think she had done something wrong and was ashamed of showing her +face in the daylight. I've heard of such things. And that would explain +some other queer things about this place, too, like--" + +"Hush!" warned Janet. "I hear her coming." + +In another moment Miss Benedict had opened the door. And in the very dim +light (Marcia had been closing the shutters as they talked) they saw an +unusual sight. Miss Benedict had come to them without her bonnet and +veil! + +The change in her appearance was surprising. Her wonderful white hair +was piled on top of her head in a heavy coronet braid. Her complexion +was singularly soft and youthful, and her lovely gray eyes, even in the +dim light, easily seemed her most attractive feature. It was a curious +contrast made by the removal of the ugly bonnet and veil. In them she +appeared a little, insignificant, unattractive personality. Without +them, though short and slight of figure, she possessed a look and manner +almost regal. + +She did not refer to the omission of her usual headgear, but took a seat +and quietly asked them what they had to tell her. + +Janet undertook to explain, and began by telling how Cecily had sent the +little gift to them, via the string, and ended by explaining about Aunt +Minerva's duplicate. Miss Benedict listened to it all without comment. +When Janet had finished and held out the two bracelets for her to +examine, she merely took them and laid them in her lap, scarcely +glancing at them. They waited, breathless, for her response. + +"No," she said, "I know nothing about these bracelets. It is, of course, +very singular--a surprising coincidence that your aunt should have one +of them. But I know nothing about them, any more than I know about +Cecily herself." It was the first time she had ever referred to the +matter before Cecily, and it was evident that it was not easy for her to +do so. + +"I might as well speak plainly to you all about this, since the matter +has come up. I did not know little Cecily; I had never heard of her, nor +anything about her before she came here. I cannot imagine why she was +sent. I have no relatives whose child she could have been, nor any +friend who could have given her into my care." + +"Then why," interrupted Janet, "if you will pardon me for asking, Miss +Benedict,--why did you take her in the day she came?" + +Miss Benedict's manner instantly became a trifle confused and +embarrassed. "It is--er--a little difficult to explain, I confess," she +stammered. "The truth is--I--er--it is commonly reported that we--that +is--I have some means. I have frequently, in the past years, received +very strange letters from people utterly unknown to me,--begging +letters, letters proposing to invest my money for me,--oh! I cannot +begin to tell you all the strange things these letters propose. I +understand it is a not unusual experience--with well-to-do people. I +have even received letters proposing that I adopt the writer's children +and eventually settle my money on them!" + +Here Janet and Marcia could not repress a giggle, and Miss Benedict +smiled slightly in sympathy. + +"It _does_ sound absurd," she admitted; "but it is quite true, and has +often been most annoying. So, when the letter arrived announcing +Cecily's coming, for which there was given no particular explanation, I +thought it simply another case of a similar kind. And I resolved to +dismiss both the child and her attendant as soon as they appeared. + +"But when the day came, strangely enough, I changed my mind. It was +Cecily herself led me to do so. I felt as soon as I looked at her that, +whoever had sent her here and for whatever purpose, the child herself +was innocent of any fraud or imposture. She believed that I would +receive her, that I _knew_ it was all right. There was something +_trusting_ about her eyes, her look, her whole manner. I cannot explain +it. And that was not all--there was another reason. + +"I suddenly realized how very lonely I was, how desirable it would be to +have with me a young companion--like Cecily. I know that the life I lead +is--is different--and peculiar. It is owing to unusual circumstances +that I cannot explain to you. But I have become so accustomed to this +life that of late years I scarcely realized it _was_ so--different. But +when I saw Cecily--I felt suddenly--its loneliness." + +With the laying aside of her veil, Miss Benedict seemed also to have +laid aside some of the reticence in which she had shrouded herself. And +her three hearers, listening spellbound, realized how utterly charming +she could be--if she _allowed_ herself to be so. + +"A great desire seized me," she went on, "to take her in and keep her +with me a while. If, later, some one came to claim her, well and good. I +would let her go. Or if no one came and I found I had been +mistaken,--that she was not companionable,--I could make some other +provision for her. Meantime, I would yield to this new desire and enjoy +her presence--here. In addition to that, the lady in whose company she +had traveled was not in position to keep Cecily longer with her, and the +child would be left without protection. So I took her in. And so I have +kept her ever since, because I am daily becoming more--attached to her." + +It was a great admission for this reticent little lady, and they all +realized it. So deeply were they impressed that none of them could make +any response. Presently Miss Benedict continued: + +"After Cecily had told me her story I determined to write to the village +of Cranby, England, and find out what I could about her mother, Mrs. +Marlowe. I knew no one to whom I could address the inquiries, but sent +them on chance to the vicar of the parish church. In due time I received +a reply. It stated that Mrs. Marlowe was not a native of that town, but +came there to live about twelve years ago, with her three-year-old +daughter. Nothing was known about her personal affairs except that her +husband and all her people were dead, and that she had come there from a +distant part of England because the climate of her former home did not +agree with her little daughter. She never talked much about herself, and +lived in a very retired, quiet way. She left no property or effects of +any value. Why she should have sent her child to me was as much a +mystery as ever. About Cecily's father the vicar knew nothing. That is +all the information I have." + +Miss Benedict stopped abruptly. Cecily opened her lips to say something, +then closed them again without having spoken. Marcia fidgeted uneasily +in her chair. Miss Benedict looked down at her lap. An embarrassed +silence seemed to have fallen on them all. Only Janet, knitting her +brows over the puzzle, was unaware of it. + +"But, Miss Benedict," she began, "we all think that these bracelets may +have something to do with Cecily's affairs--might explain a good deal of +the mystery, if we could only puzzle them out. Have you noticed what +strange signs there are on them? We think they must be something in +Chinese. Let me give you a little more light and then you can see them +better." And Janet, deeply immersed in the subject and still unconscious +of her blunder, was about to go and open a shutter, when Miss Benedict +quickly raised her hand. + +"Please--er--_please_ do not!" she exclaimed hurriedly. + +"Oh! I beg your pardon--I forgot!" cried Janet, in confusion, and the +silence at once became more embarrassed than ever. So much so, in fact, +that Miss Benedict evidently felt impelled to explain her conduct. And +she made the first revelation concerning her singular mode of life. + +"I am--er--my eyes are not able to stand it. For years I have suffered +with some obscure trouble in them. I can _see_, but I cannot stand any +bright light. It hurts them beyond endurance. At home I must have the +rooms darkened in this way. And when I go out, even my heavy veil is +not sufficient. Behind it I must also wear smoked spectacles." + +She said no more, but she did not need to. A little inarticulate murmur +of sympathy rose from her listeners. And in the twilight of the room +Marcia glanced quickly and guiltily into Janet's contrite face. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +VIA WIRELESS + + +It was a week after the events of the last chapter. The girls had gone +regularly every day to visit Cecily. It was Marcia who had finally +mustered up courage to ask Miss Benedict if Cecily could not go into the +garden and enjoy there some outdoor air and sunshine. Miss Benedict had +hesitated at first, but at last she conceded that Cecily and the girls +might sit in the garden if they would go out of the house by a small +side door and remain on that side of the house. + +They found that this door was on the opposite side of the house from +Cecily's room: consequently, they had never seen it. And they soon +discovered one reason, at least, why Miss Benedict wished them to remain +exclusively on that side. It was screened both back and front by thick +bushes and trees. And at the side, above the garden wall, rose the high +blank side of a building, unrelieved by a single window. Here they were +as absolutely screened from public view as if they were within the +house. Here also was an old rustic bench and table, and they spent +several happy mornings in the secluded spot, sewing, reading, and +chatting. + +Cecily seemed fairly to open out before their eyes, like a flower-bud +expanding in warm, sunny atmosphere. Only at times now did she show any +trace of the frightened repression of their earlier acquaintance. They +seldom talked abut the mystery surrounding her, because they had +discovered that any allusion to it only made her uneasy, unhappy, and +rather silent. Moreover, further discussion of it was rather useless, as +they seemed to have reached a point in its solution beyond which +progress was hopeless. + +So they talked gaily about themselves and their own affairs, sometimes +of their former home in Northam, the pleasant New England village. +Occasionally Cecily would reciprocate by allowing them glimpses of her +life in the obscure little English town from which she had come. Only +rarely did she allude to the circumstances of her present home, and +though the girls secretly ached to know more about it, they were too +tactful to ask any questions. + +One query, whose answer they could not guess was this: who was the other +mysterious old lady, kept so closely a prisoner in her room by Miss +Benedict? And why was she so kept? Marcia and Janet were never tired of +discussing this question between themselves. That it was a relative, +they could not doubt. And they recalled one or two remarks Miss Benedict +had dropped, particularly when she had said: "We--that is--I have some +means." + +The "we" must certainly have referred to herself and the other one. But +could that "other one" be mother, sister, aunt, or cousin? And why was +there so much secrecy about her? Cecily had only said that Miss Benedict +referred to her as "the lady in there who is not very well." But why +conceal so carefully just an ordinary invalid? + +"You never can tell, though," remarked Janet, decisively, one night when +they had been discussing the matter with Aunt Minerva. "Were you ever +more stunned, Marcia, than at the reason she gave for having all the +shutters closed? I think it was the most pitiful thing I ever heard, I +could just have sat and _cried_ about it. And it was so different from +all the awful things we'd imagined. Perhaps there is just as good a +reason for this other mystery." + +"But what puzzles me," broke in Aunt Minerva, impatiently, "is why that +woman, if she's so wealthy, doesn't go to a good oculist and have some +treatment for her eyes. They can do such wonders nowadays. Why on earth +does she endure it? I never heard of anything so silly!" + +"I suppose it's for the same reason that she wouldn't have a doctor when +she hurt her ankle," said Marcia. "She evidently doesn't want a stranger +in the house, even for such important things as those." + +One day Cecily asked Marcia why she never brought in her violin since +the occasion of the first visit, and requested that she bring it with +her next day and give them a concert. + +So on the following day Marcia came armed with her violin case and also +an interesting new book from the library that she thought Cecily would +enjoy. + +"Let's read the book first," Cecily elected. So, sitting in the secluded +corner of the garden, the three spent a happy morning, reading aloud, +turn about, while the others worked at their embroidery. At last, when +all were tired, Cecily begged Marcia to play, and she laid her book +aside and took up the violin. + +"What shall I play?" she asked. "Something lively?" + +"No," said Cecily. "Play something soft and sweet and dreamy. I feel +just in that mood to-day. It's too hot for lively things." + +Marcia played the Liszt "Liebestraum," and a lovely setting of the old +Scotch song "Loch Lomond," and after that the "Melody in F." And then, +at Cecily's entreating glance, she drifted, as usual, into the +"Traeumerei." + +"Do you know," said Cecily, when she had ended, "I believe I must have +heard that thing when I was a baby. It's the only reason I can think of +that it seems so--so familiar. And yet--unless I'd heard it a great, +great many times then, I don't think it would have made such an +impression on me. And where could I have heard it? Play it again, +Marcia, please." + +Marcia obligingly began, but she had gone no farther than the first few +measures when the door opened and Miss Benedict appeared. She seemed +very much agitated, and her bonnet and veil, donned in an evident hurry, +were slightly awry. + +"I beg you," she began, turning to Marcia, "not to play any more. +I--er--it is--is not because it is not beautiful, but it is--is slightly +disturbing to--some one inside." + +"Why, of course I won't, Miss Benedict," said Marcia, dropping her bow. +"I wouldn't have done such a thing if I'd dreamed it would disturb any +one." + +"It isn't--it isn't that _I_ don't love it," stammered Miss Benedict, +"for I do. But it seems to be very upsetting to--" She hesitated, just +a fraction of a moment, and then seemed to take a sudden resolution. + +"--to my sister!" she ended flutteringly, as though the simple admission +carried something damaging with it. It required strong self-control for +the three girls not to exchange glances. + +"Oh, I hope I haven't done her any harm!" cried Marcia, contritely. + +"No--she--it has just made her a little nervous. She will be all right +soon, I trust. But I noticed that it had the same effect--before," went +on Miss Benedict. "I fear I shall have to ask you not--not to play again +in her hearing. And I am very sorry, both for Cecily--and myself." And +she retreated into the house again, closing the door softly. + +On the way back to luncheon that noon the girls excitedly discussed the +newest turn of affairs and the newest revelation made by their strange +neighbor. And so absorbed were they in this fresh interest and so +anxious to impart it to Aunt Minerva that they scarcely noticed she was +laboring under a suppressed excitement quite as great as their own. +Indeed, she paid but scant attention to their recital; and when they had +finished, her only comment was: + +"Very odd--very odd indeed. But you never can guess about the news _I_ +have!" + +"No, no! Of course I can't guess. Tell us--quick!" cried Marcia, +impatiently. "It's something wonderful, I know!" + +Miss Minerva made no reply, but suddenly laid a wireless telegram before +them. Marcia snatched it up and read aloud: + + "_Change of sailing-plans. Will be home in two days._ + + "EDWIN BRETT." + +"Hurrah! hurrah!" she cried. "Father's coming! A whole two months before +we expected him! _Now_ we'll hear something about the bracelet--and who +knows what will happen after that!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE WRITING ON THE BRACELETS + + +In the joy of seeing her father after months of absence Marcia almost +forgot the mystery of Benedict's Folly. Almost--but not quite! + +Captain Brett had been at home twenty-four hours, and had had time to +give an account of all the intervening weeks, before the subject was +broached. Then the next morning, with a great air of mystery, the two +girls and Aunt Minerva made him sit down and listen to the entire story. +At its conclusion they produced the two filigree bracelets for his +inspection. + +"H'm!" he exclaimed, and, whistling softly under his breath, examined +them with minute care. And then, being a man of few words, he only +remarked: "So you think these were once a pair?" + +"Why, of course!" cried Marcia. "Don't you?" + +"It looks remarkably like it," he conceded. + +"Do tell us how you happened to get yours!" she begged. + +"There's nothing much to tell," replied Captain Brett. "Happened to be +in Hong-Kong one day, and a ragged-looking Chinese sailor thrust this +under my nose and whined that he'd let me have it for two Mexican +dollars. They're always trying to get rid of things like this when they +want some spare cash. One never knows where they pick them up. I didn't +want the trinket particularly, but I saw that it was a unique little +piece and worth probably much more. So I bought it, tucked it away in my +trunk, and forgot it till I arrived home, when I gave it to you, +Minerva. That's all I know about it." + +"How long ago was that?" asked Janet. + +"Must have been at least twelve years ago. I'm not sure of the exact +year." + +"But what do these things mean?" questioned Miss Minerva, pointing to +the strange characters in the silver-work. + +"They're Chinese characters, certainly, but I don't know what they mean. +You see them on lots of their jewelry and gimcracks--generally mean +'good luck,' or 'happiness,' or some such motto. Can't say whether these +mean anything of that kind or not." + +"But tell me, Father, don't you honestly believe that if we could get +these translated--find out what they mean--it might give us _some_ clue +to the puzzle?" Marcia appealed to him. + +"It might--or it might not," he answered skeptically. "So many of these +characters might be meaningless, as far as any personal application was +concerned." + +"Well, anyway, _could_ we get them translated, just for our own +satisfaction?" demanded Marcia. + +"Nothing simpler!" smiled Captain Brett. "My boatswain is a +Chinese--very learned man--reads his Confucius in off hours! He'd be +sure to help you with it." + +"Oh, goody! And when can we have it done?" cried Marcia, aglow with +anticipation. + +"Well, you're all coming down to visit the ship to-morrow. Bring the +bracelets along, and I'll see that Lee Ching is on hand to give you his +assistance. But--I warn you--_don't_ count too much on what you may +discover from it! I don't want you to have a bad disappointment." + +In spite of which warning, notwithstanding, the girls slept little that +night, so excited were they over the prospect, and, when they did sleep, +dreamed impossible dreams--mainly of quite unintelligible translations +of cryptic Chinese characters. + +The visit to Captain Brett's ship, _The Empress of Oran_, would have +been an event, apart from any other interest involved in the expedition. +Marcia and Janet had never in their lives been on board of an ocean +steamer. Even the approach to it was fascinating,--the long, covered +wharves with their strange, spicy odors, the bustle and activity of +loading and unloading, the narrow gangways, the dark waist of the +vessel, and the immaculate white paint of the decks. + +They examined every inch of the huge steamer, from the stoking-room to +the donkey-engines on the forecastle deck, and spent half an hour in the +cozy, tiny cabin that was the captain's own, marveling at the +compactness and handiness of every detail. + +When they all went up to the after-deck for luncheon, which was served +under an awning, Marcia and Janet could scarcely eat for watching the +deft, silent, sphinxlike Chinese cook who waited on them. They tasted +strange dishes that day, some of which, like curry and rice, were +scarcely acceptable to their unaccustomed palates. + +"Now," said the captain, in the middle of the meal, "if we were only out +on the China Sea or bowling along over the Pacific, this would be just +right. You'd have more of an appetite in that salt air than you do +hemmed in by these noisy docks!" + +But it was not the docks that had stolen away the appetites of Marcia +and Janet. They were boiling with impatience to see the boatswain, that +student of Confucius, who could, perhaps, throw some new light on their +mystery. Ambrosia and nectar for luncheon would scarcely have appealed +to them under the circumstances! + +At last, however, the meal was ended with the curious little Chinese +nuts whose meat is almost like a raisin. Then, when the table was +cleared and the captain had lit his cigar, he spoke the word that caused +their hearts to jump and their eyes to brighten: + +"Now I suppose you want to see Lee Ching!" He beckoned to a sailor and +sent him to find the boatswain. + +Lee Ching arrived with promptitude, saluted his captain, and stood +gravely at attention. He was not a young man, and he had a decidedly +Oriental, mask-like face. It seemed strange that he should be dressed in +the conventional boatswain's uniform, with peaked cap and the whistle of +his office. One could imagine him better in some brilliant-hued, +wide-sleeved Chinese garment, with a long pig-tail down his back. + +"Lee Ching," said the captain, "these young ladies are very much +interested in these two bracelets that have come into their possession. +The characters on them, you see, are in your language. We wonder if you +will be so kind as to translate them for us?" + +Lee Ching took the trinkets and examined them minutely. Presently he +asked: + +"Will ladies have what say by word of mouth?" The captain was about to +answer yes, and then changed his mind: + +"No. It may be rather important, and we want to remember it accurately. +We would be obliged if you would write it out." + +Lee Ching nodded gravely. "Will captain permit I retire to cabin?" he +requested, and on being dismissed, he retreated with a formal bow. + +"But _can_ he write English?" cried Marcia, when he had disappeared. + +"Of course he can, better than he can speak it!" laughed the captain. +"English is child's play compared to that brain-paralyzing language of +his! I must say, though, that Lee Ching is rather unusual--as Chinese +sailors go. He's studied in the University of Pekin, reads and writes +English well, and never speaks Pidgin-English. Why he's spending his +life as boatswain of a trading-steamer I don't know. He's fitted for far +different things. But I have an idea it's on account of his health that +he follows the sea." + +The time before Lee Ching's reappearance seemed to the girls +interminable, though, in all probability, it was not more than fifteen +minutes. + +At last, however, he returned, laid the bracelets and a slip of paper in +the captain's hand, and was about to retire. + +"One moment!" said Captain Brett. "Is the writing on the two bracelets +the same?" + +[Illustration: "Words on two bracelets are Identical," replied Lee +Ching, precisely] + +"Words on two bracelets are identical," replied Lee Ching, precisely. + +"That is all, then, and thank you!" And the captain dismissed him. + +"Oh, _read_ it," cried Marcia, "or I shall die of impatience!" and +she hung over his shoulder while he read aloud Lee Ching's queer, +angular handwriting. + +[Illustration: Writing: "From the maker of melodies to the flower-maiden +on this day of their wedding. Amoy, Sept. 25, 1889."] + +When he had finished, a blank look crept over the expectant faces of the +two girls. + +"Is _that_ all?" cried Janet. And Marcia exclaimed, "Why, how +disappointing! It doesn't tell us a single thing!" + +"Wait a minute," said the captain, tugging thoughtfully at his short +mustache, while he studied the paper, "I'm not so sure of that!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +PUZZLING IT OUT + + +"To begin with," Captain Brett went on after a long and (to Janet and +Marcia) very trying pause, "we've something to hold on to in just the +date--Sept 25, 1889--and Amoy." + +"What's Amoy, anyway?" demanded Marcia. + +"It's a large seaport in the province of Fu-kien, China, and I've +stopped there many a time myself. Then there's the date of this wedding. +Somebody might possibly remember it. There's just the faintest chance." + +"But there aren't any names given," argued Marcia. "And besides, there +must be hundreds of Chinese weddings going on all the time. I don't +believe you could find any one who could remember just this particular +one!" + +"There are one or two things about this you don't understand, Marcia. +First place, I'm almost certain this isn't any Chinese wedding referred +to here. The Chinese don't do things that way. I know a little about +their customs. It's English or American. You can bank on _that_! + +"Another thing--about the names. I'm pretty sure that this contains both +names--at least the ones the parties went by in China. You see, the +Chinese have no equivalents in their language for such names as Jones or +Robinson or Brett, for instance. What they do is to take some +characteristic of a person, and give him a name signifying that +characteristic. I strongly suspect that whatever words in Chinese stand +for 'maker of melodies' and 'flower-maiden' are the names the man and +woman were known by there." + +"Then," interrupted Janet, who had been doing some rapid thinking, "the +man must have been some kind of a musician, and the woman may have loved +flowers, or looked like a flower, or something of that sort." + +"I think it extremely likely," agreed the captain. + +"_Maker of melodies--musician!_" cried Marcia, suddenly hopping up from +her deck-chair in excitement. "Does that make you think of anything?" + +The captain and Janet both looked rather mystified and shook their +heads. + +"Why, _Cecily_, of course!" exclaimed Marcia. "Don't you remember how +she adores music--and always seems to be remembering something about +that 'Traeumerei'? I'll warrant--just anything--that these people who got +married were some relation to her! And besides, didn't she have one of +the bracelets?" + +"It looks as if you _had_ run down a clue," admitted Captain Brett. "But +I'm sorry to say it doesn't help us much in discovering who these +contracting parties were. One point, however, I think it seems to +settle--the question whether the bracelet came into the possession of +your little friend in some such manner as I got the other, or whether it +was hers by right as a family trinket. I believe the latter--almost +beyond question. But now comes the difficulty. How are we going to +unearth anybody who has any remembrance of--" + +Marcia suddenly inspired with an idea, interrupted: "Why not ask Lee +Ching? He's Chinese. Who knows but what he came from just that region?" + +"Nothing like trying," said the captain. "I don't know what province he +hails from, but it won't hurt to ask." And he sent a sailor to summon +Lee Ching once more. When he appeared the captain put his first +question: + +"Lee Ching, what province did you come from?" + +"Fu-kien," came the answer, promptly, and the girls' hopes were raised +sky-high. + +"Did you ever live in Amoy?" + +"No, never lived there--always in hills back beyond." + +"Well, do you, by any chance, happen to know anything about the parties +spoken of in that bracelet translation?" + +"No. Was at sea at date mentioned. Young man then--not very well on dry +land. Must live on ship always--or not live. Never was acquainted with +parties mentioned." + +"Thank you. That is all, Lee Ching." + +The bright hopes of the girls were considerably dampened, but Marcia was +not to be downed. + +"Anyway," she argued, "you've other Chinese sailors on board. Why +couldn't we question them all? We might find _some_ one who knows." + +The captain was rather dubious about it. "Yes, the cook and four sailors +are Chinese. You can question them if you like, but I'm afraid it won't +be much satisfaction. They're an appallingly ignorant lot! But I'll have +them summoned." + +In a few moments the five were lined up, and, true to the captain's +estimate, a hopeless-looking lot they were. After much confused +questioning in Pidgin-English it developed that the cook and two sailors +were from the province of Shansi, a third from Kiang-su, and the two +others from nowhere in particular that they could seem to remember. +None of them knew anything about Amoy beyond the squalid shops about the +wharves. + +The captain dismissed them all with a disgusted wave of his hand and +turned to the girls. + +"You see how worse than useless it is to try and find out anything from +such sources! I knew it would be so, but I didn't want to discourage +you. Now you just leave me to myself for half an hour to smoke in peace +and do a little thinking. Go and look at them unloading, or roam around +and amuse yourselves in any way you like. Perhaps, if I rack my brains +hard, something will occur to me." + +They left him pacing up and down on the deck, puffing at his cigar, +while they went to explore the great ship all over again. But the +occupation, though fascinating, failed to keep their thoughts from the +latest phase of the queer mystery that surrounded Cecily Marlowe. + +"Do you know," said Marcia, as they stood looking down into the well of +the vast engine-room, "it seems simply impossible to me to connect +lovely, dainty, English Cecily with anything so oriental as China. I +can't understand it. I can't imagine any connection. Can you?" + +"No, I can't," admitted Janet. "And, more than that, where does Miss +Benedict come in on this Chinese proposition? Nothing could be less +connected with it than she! I believe she'd have a fit if she ever saw +that awful-looking crowd of Chinese sailors your father had there a +while ago. Did you ever see such a rascally looking lot? And poor little +Cecily would be horrified!" + +"I liked Lee Ching, though. He's so grave and serious and dignified. And +isn't his English fascinating? I just love to hear him talk. But oh, I +wish Father hadn't sent us away for half an hour! I can hardly wait for +the time to pass! Let's go and look at those men on the dock unloading. +Why do they make such a racket? You'd think there was a fire or +something!" + +So they whiled away the time, and at last, promptly on the minute, raced +back to Captain Brett. + +"Well?" demanded Marcia, breathless. "What now?" + +"Just had a happy thought!" The captain threw the stump of his finished +cigar over the rail. "I've been trying to think whom I could remember +meeting in China during the past years--some responsible person who +might know these people or be able to track them down. Suddenly recalled +old Major Goodrich. He was an English military attache stationed at +Hong-Kong for a while, and I got to know him rather well. He was retired +some years ago, and the last I heard of him he was living in this +country, somewhere in Pennsylvania, with his only daughter, who happened +to have married an American. If anybody were likely to know anything +about this business it would be he, for he knew everybody and everything +worth knowing about in Amoy at the time. I'll look up his address and +write to him to-night. Now I hope that satisfies you both!" + +"Father, you're a trump!" cried Marcia, blissfully. "I _knew_ you'd get +right to the bottom of this mystery at once." + +"Hold on! Don't count your chickens before they're hatched!" warned the +captain. "This is only a possibility--not a _probability_. The major may +know nothing whatever about it. But look here! it's high time we were +heading for home. We don't want to be late to dinner." + +They reached the apartment, bursting with news to tell Aunt Minerva, but +were met at the door by that lady, flushed, flustered, and very much +excited. + +"Such a state of affairs!" she cried. "An hour ago I received a telegram +from Cousin Drusilla in Northam saying she was very ill indeed and +wouldn't I come up at once, as she was virtually all alone. Of course +I've got to go. I can't leave her there sick without a soul to look +after her. But what on earth are you all going to do?" + +"Oh, go right along, Minerva! The girls and I will get on famously. They +can try their hand at housekeeping, and you've a good maid in the +kitchen to help. Don't you worry a minute!" + +"Yes, but--" began Aunt Minerva. + +"You've got just fifteen minutes to catch the Boston express," said the +captain, decisively, looking at his watch. "Give me that suitcase and +come right along." + +Aunt Minerva, who had really been all packed and ready for the past +twenty-nine minutes, meekly obeyed. + +"I won't be gone more than a few days," she remarked, as she kissed the +girls good-by. "I'll get some one to take my place with Drusilla just as +soon as I can. Don't let Eliza boil the corn too long, and tell her--" +The sentence was never finished, for the captain at that point gently +but firmly led her into the hall and closed the door. + +And, though the girls suspected it not, this sudden departure of Aunt +Minerva had more bearing on the mystery they were trying to solve than +any of them dreamed! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +ONE MYSTERY EXPLAINED + + +Meantime, Cecily Marlowe, immured in the lonely house, had been having +an experience all her own. And when the girls came to see her, the day +after the visit to the ship, she too was bursting with news. But she +quietly waited till they had told their own tale, and was as puzzled as +they about the strange translation of the characters on the bracelet. Of +anything pertaining to China or the Chinese she had not the remotest +notion, and could not understand how it could have any connection with +her affairs. + +"Now you must hear _my_ story," she began, when they had discussed the +newest development till there was nothing left to discuss. "It's about +Miss Benedict. She has--but just wait, and I'll begin at the beginning. +It was two nights ago, and she had one of those headaches. She has +such very bad ones, you know. She says they are from her poor eye-sight, +and she suffers terribly. + +"Well, she had a worse one than usual, and so she was obliged to call me +into her room and ask me to fetch things for her. I sat by her and +bathed her head and fanned her, and at last she fell asleep. Even then I +didn't go away, but sat there fanning and fanning her for a long time, +till finally, after a couple of hours, she woke up. + +"She was very much better then, and presently she began to talk to me +quite differently from what she ever had before. First she asked me if I +were contented and happy here. I said I tried to be, but I was very +lonely sometimes. She didn't say much to that, but suddenly she spoke +again: + +[Illustration: "Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life +I lead!"] + +"'Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life I lead, don't +you?' I said, yes, I couldn't help wondering about it. Then she turned +away her head and whispered: + +"'Oh, if you only _knew_, you would not wonder! I have been very +unhappy. My life has been very unhappy!' All I could think of to answer +her was that I was so sorry, and she need not tell me anything she +didn't wish to. I would never ask about it. And she raised herself up in +bed, and said: + +"'That's just it, dear child. I have always supposed that young folks +were one and all curious, inquisitive, and thoughtless. That is one +reason I was so--so strict with you--in the beginning. But you and those +two nice girls next door have been a revelation to me.' + +"Wasn't that lovely of her?" exclaimed Cecily, interrupting herself. + +"Just darling!" cried Marcia. "But do go on, Cecily. We're crazy to hear +what came next!" + +"Well, next she said: 'People think I live a very singular life, I know. +They think I'm eccentric--queer--crazy, even! Oh, _I_ know it! But there +are few alive to-day--and none in this neighborhood--who even guess at +the real reason, who--remember!' And then she put her hand to her head +as if it was aching badly, and dropped back on the pillow. She was very +quiet for a while, but at last she looked up again and said: 'Little +Cecily, would you care to have a home with me always? Would you be +willing to put up with my queerness and peculiarities, and some of the +strange conditions here?' And I answered, indeed, yes; if I could go out +once in a while and visit you girls occasionally, I should very much +like to stay. And she said: + +"'Of course you shall, dear. You have been dreadfully shut in here, but +that was before I knew you so well. I was not sure I _wanted_ to keep +you before, but now I know that I do. I only ask you to be as +considerate of me as you can. Some day, I feel certain, I shall lose my +sight. I know that it is coming. When it does come, I shall have to +depend very, very much on you. I and one other. You will not fail me +then, will you, Cecily?' + +"Girls, I could have cried then and there--I felt so _sorry_ for her. +And I told her she could _always_ depend on me, no matter what happened. +I had no other home and no one else to care for me except you girls. +And after that she told me the story about herself--at least, some of +it. I can't tell it in her words, so I'll use my own. But this is it: + +"A great many years ago, when this house was new, she lived here with +her father and an older sister and a younger brother. They were all very +happy together, and the brother was the pride and joy and hope of the +whole family. But one time he had a violent disagreement with his father +(she didn't tell me what it was about), and she and her sister took +sides with her father against the brother. After that they had the same +disagreement a great many times, and at last one so bad that the young +man declared he wouldn't endure it any longer, and threatened to leave +home. + +"They didn't believe he was really serious about it, but the next +morning his room was vacant, and a note pinned to his pillow said he had +gone away never to return. They felt awfully about it, of course, but +that wasn't the worst. About two weeks later they received word that he +had taken passage on a steamer for Europe, and after only a day or so +out he was discovered to be missing, so he must have fallen overboard, +or been washed over and drowned. Wasn't that frightful?" + +Janet and Marcia looked horrified. "What did she do then?" they +whispered. + +"That's the most dreadful part," went on Cecily. "The shock was so great +that the father died a week afterward--the doctors said virtually of a +broken heart. So there were two gone, and within a month. The two that +were left, Miss Benedict and her sister, shut themselves up and went +into mourning and saw almost no one. For a while they were paralyzed +with grief. And then, little by little, very gradually, they began to +realize that people were talking about them--saying dreadful things. One +of the few friends they _did_ see let drop little hints of the gossip +that was going on outside. People were saying that they were to blame +for it all, and that they probably weren't so sorry as they pretended to +be, for now they could enjoy all the money themselves. Can you imagine +anything so horrid?" + +"Oh, but that's nonsense!" interrupted Janet impatiently. "How could any +one say it was their fault?" + +"Well, you know how people talk," replied Cecily. "They meant that by +nagging and quarreling they had driven the brother away on purpose, and +then made it so unpleasant for the father that he couldn't stand it any +longer either. It wasn't said in so many words, but just little hints +and allusions and shrugging shoulders and all that sort of thing. But +the meaning was there underneath it all, as plain as anything. + +"Their grief and the horrid talk about them made them feel so very badly +that they determined to live in such a way that no one could accuse them +of enjoying an ill-gotten fortune. So they shut up the house,--at least +a large part of it,--and dismissed all their servants, and did most of +the work themselves. After a while the few friends they had began to +drop away, one by one, till no one came to see them any more. + +"And then one day, two or three years later, the older sister had a +paralytic stroke and lost her memory. She's been shut up in that room +ever since, and Miss Benedict takes care of her. She can sit up in a +chair and knit, and she likes to have a chess-board on her lap, and move +the pieces around, because she once loved to play the game with her +younger brother. But she can't remember anything--not even who she is +herself, and nothing about what has happened. Miss Benedict feels +terribly about her, especially about her not remembering anything, and +she says that is why she didn't tell me about her at first. It seemed so +terrible. + +"She says all the friends and relatives they had are dead and gone now, +so no one knows the real reason for their queer life. And as the years +have passed she has grown more and more into the habit of living this +way till it seemed quite natural to her--at least it did till I came; +and now she is beginning to realize again that it _is_ queer. And she +was so afraid of gossip and talk that when you first wanted to be +friends with me she would not allow it, for fear of starting more +unpleasant inquiries into her life." + +"But what about her poor eyes?" asked Janet. + +"Oh, yes! About ten years ago she began to have those terrible pains in +her eyes, and then she had to darken all the house and wear the veil and +dark glasses outdoors. She went to a doctor about them, but was told +that the case was hopeless unless she had some complicated operation and +spent months in a dark room. This she felt she couldn't do on account of +her sister, whom she _would_ not leave to a stranger's care. So she has +just suffered ever since. + +"That's all, girls, except that she told me her sister's name is +Cornelia and that hers is Alixe. I'm to call her Miss Alixe after this. +It makes me seem a little nearer to her." + +"What a pretty name--Alixe!" commented Marcia. "It just seems to suit +her, somehow. But isn't that the saddest story? It just goes to show how +unhappy we can make people by talking about them and their affairs." + +"And oh! there's one thing more. Miss Benedict--I mean Miss Alixe--gave +me permission to tell you all this, but she only asks that you will not +repeat it except to your father and aunt. She says she knows you can be +depended on to do this." + +That day, before Janet and Marcia left, they encountered Miss Benedict +in the hall. And, by the way she pressed their hands in saying good-by +they felt that she knew Cecily had told them her story, though she made +no reference to it. + +"Cecily may run in and visit you a while to-morrow. I think the change +will do her good," she remarked at parting. And that was the only hint +she gave of a change in the affairs of "Benedict's Folly." + +When Janet and Marcia were at last outside the gate they gazed up at the +forbidding brick wall and drew a long breath of wonder. + +"So _that_ is the story!" breathed Marcia. "What an awful thing--that +two people's lives should be spoiled just by unkind gossip!" + +But Janet was thinking of something else. "I wonder why Miss Benedict +didn't tell what the family had the disagreement about!" she queried. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +MAJOR GOODRICH ASSISTS + + +During the week following Aunt Minerva's departure, the two girls had a +busy life, taking charge of the unaccustomed tasks of housekeeping. + +But with all their absorbing occupations, the three were waiting on +tiptoe of expectation for a reply from Major Goodrich. And even Captain +Brett could scarcely conceal his impatience as the days went by and no +answer came. + +At last one morning the mail-box contained a letter postmarked from +Pennsylvania, and Marcia carried it upstairs two steps at a time. + +It was from the major. He wrote: + + Is there any way you can think of to furnish me with an idea of + what the Chinese for that expression, "maker of melodies," + _sounds_ like? The only way that occurs to me is to see whether, + by any faint chance, Lee Ching could write it in that Romanized + Colloquial, used by the missionaries. That might give me an idea. + It's a hundred chances to one, he doesn't know it. If so, just + spell it out for me yourself in English--the nearest you can get + to it. + + The reason I want to know it is this: there was a young fellow in + Hong-Kong at the British military station, a military aide of + promise, who had a magnificent singing voice. Every one went wild + over him there. He was the life of the garrison and in social + circles as well. Many an evening we spent listening to one of his + impromptu recitals. But what makes me suspect that he may be the + one we're after is that he foolishly went and married the daughter + of a Chinese mandarin from one of the Hong-Kong yamens. He had + been the means of rendering the father some very important + service, and met the daughter quite by accident. The whole affair + was a rather remarkable story, but I haven't time to detail it all + to you now. + + I saw the girl just once--afterward. She was a fascinating little + creature, with the golden butterfly pins in her black hair, and + her rich silk robe hung with jewels, and her tiny bound feet. But + the young fellow's family back in England was furious about it. + Eventually, he cut loose from them entirely. Then he and his wife + drifted away from the Hong-Kong region up to Amoy, and finally + dropped out of sight. I imagine he adopted the Chinese customs and + habits and got to live at last very much like a native. I've never + heard of him since, but I've a notion he could be hunted up if + he's still alive. His name was Carringford--Jack Carringford, we + used to call him. + + The point, however, is that the Chinese called him by a name of + their own, signifying "eminent singer," or something of that + sort--very much the same kind of expression as that used on the + bracelet. And after a while we all got to calling him by it--or + some abbreviation of it--pretty regularly. I can't recall just + what it was now, for I haven't thought of it in years. But I + believe I'd recognize it if I saw it written out in Colloquial or + any other English version! Get me that, and I'll soon put you on + the right track! + + Mightn't the little girl possibly be the daughter of Carringford? + +"No, she _mightn't_!" interrupted Marcia, indignantly, at this point. +"Does Cecily Marlowe look like a Chinese mandarin's daughter's +daughter?" And certainly, with her golden curls and big blue eyes and +the English roses in her cheeks, they had to admit that she did not! + +"And besides that," added Janet, "her name isn't _Carringford_!" + +"That doesn't always signify," remarked the captain. "It looks to me +like a rather clear case if we find that the Chinese name agrees with +the major's recollection of it. I'd go down to the ship to-day, but Lee +Ching is on shore leave, and won't be back till to-morrow. I'll see him +then, and find out whether he knows anything about this Romanized +Colloquial. I rather doubt it myself. It's not much used outside of the +missions, I understand." + +"What _is_ 'Romanized Colloquial,' anyway?" demanded Marcia. "It sounds +very mysterious!" + +"No, it isn't a bit mysterious," answered Captain Brett. "In order to +understand about it, however, you must know this fact about the Chinese +language. The _written_ character is the same--_means_ the same--all +over the kingdom. But it isn't _pronounced_ the same in any of the +different provinces. In fact, the spoken dialects are like entirely +different languages. It seems that the dialect of the Fu-kien province +has been reduced to a written form by the missionaries and called +Romanized Colloquial. It has been in use for a good many years, but it +isn't especially recognized by official or diplomatic circles. But a +good many of the Chinese boys who attend the mission-schools learn it +there. It's just possible that Lee Ching may have done so, as he came +from that region. We can only wait and see. If he doesn't know it, he +_may_ be able to write out the Chinese equivalent in some form of +English script." + +The next day the captain went down to the _Empress of Oran_ and returned +with a beaming face and a sheet of paper written on by Lee Ching. + +"He knew it all right!" he announced. "Learned it as a boy in the +mission-school at _Chiang-chiu_. Here's what he wrote." And he held the +sheet of paper for the girls to see. "He's put the Chinese characters at +one side. They have to be read from top to bottom, you know. Next to +them is the Romanized Colloquial, and alongside of that the English +translation. Quite a pretty piece of work that!" + +[Illustration] + +"Gracious!" cried Marcia, frowning over the queer jargon. "I can't make +a thing out of it--or at least I couldn't if he hadn't put the English +right alongside of the others. Oh, this must be the name!--'chok-gak e +lang'-'maker of melodies.' Did you _ever_ hear of such heathenish +sounds? Well, now we'll see what Major Goodrich has to say to that. +Father, will you send it right off to him?" + +"At once!" announced the captain. "I'm just about as anxious as you +folks, now, to get this mystery explained." + +But the singular thing was that somehow the girls could not bring +themselves to tell Cecily much about these latest developments. They +thought it would make her feel strange and anxious to realize that there +was a possibility of her being in any way related to a Chinese +mandarin's daughter. + +"And besides," remarked Janet, suddenly, when they were discussing it, +"that's perfectly impossible, anyway, because her mother was English, +and Cecily has lived with her all these years. So this talk about +mandarin's daughters and things is perfectly ridiculous!" + +"That's so!" echoed Marcia, in relief. "I didn't think of it at first. +But, anyway, let's not tell Cecily about it till we know more. I do wish +Aunt Minerva were here! I haven't written her about all this because +there's so much to explain. I'd rather wait and tell her when she gets +back. She said she was only going to be gone a little while, and here +it's nearly two weeks!" + +In three days an answer arrived from the major, and, as luck would have +it, Cecily herself brought the letter upstairs with her as she came in. + +"The postman was just going to drop it in your box," she explained, "and +I asked him to let me take it to you, and save you the trouble of coming +down for it." And she held it out to the captain. + +"Aha!" he cried, as he caught sight of the writing. "_Now_ we'll hear +some news! Why--what's the matter?" He had just glimpsed Marcia and +Janet frantically signaling to him behind Cecily's back. "Don't you +want me to open it?" + +"Oh, not now," explained Marcia, as nonchalantly as she could. "I want +Cecily to come out to the kitchen and help us make some fudge. Later +will do." And she dragged the wondering Cecily down the hall, while the +captain stared after them muttering, "Well! of all the--" + +Cecily stayed rather late that afternoon. And for the first time in all +their acquaintance, the girls were not sorry to have her go, so wild +with anxiety were they to hear the major's letter. No sooner had the +door closed upon her than they rushed back to the captain. + +"What does he say?" they clamored. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE MAJOR HAS A FURTHER INSPIRATION + + +The captain, who was puffing at his pipe, appeared serious. "I don't +like the looks of this thing at all," he muttered, reaching in his +pocket for the letter. + +"But what did he say? Tell us quick!" cried Marcia. "We've been nearly +crazy there in the kitchen waiting to have Cecily go so we could hear +what he says!" + +"Well, I'm glad she did go first," acknowledged the captain, "for +somehow I wouldn't care to have her hear just yet what the major has to +say. He thinks-- But I'll read his letter, and you can understand what I +mean. Here it is: + + "About the Chinese name first. The one you sent does certainly + have a familiar sound to me, especially the last two syllables. I + distinctly remember that the name Jack Carringford was called by + ended in _e lang_, or something that sounded amazingly like it. I + wouldn't bank on that entirely, however, for the Chinese language + is the most confusing and idiotic jargon ever invented by the mind + of man, and there might be a dozen other words ending the same and + meaning something entirely different. + + "Here's a fact more to the point, though. Since writing to you + last I've been busy communicating with several old chums of the + China days. What I've been trying to find out is, does any one + know what has become of Carringford? By the third year after his + unfortunate marriage he had pretty well dropped out of sight. + Still, I thought I knew of one or two who might have kept some + track of him even after that. One of them, Danforth Pettingill, an + old chum of Jack's, is now living in New York, and I thought he'd + probably know as much as any one. So I wrote him at the very + start, and yesterday received this answer. It seems that + Carringford and his wife lived with her father for some time--till + about two years after their marriage, when a little daughter was + born. Then the old mandarin, who was fearfully annoyed because the + baby was not a boy (girls being of no earthly account in China, as + you know!), made it so unpleasant for the couple that they finally + left his establishment. It was then that they began their roaming + existence, terribly hampered by the baby, of course, and never + remaining long in any city. + + "At last, the wife contracted the plague and died very suddenly, + and Carringford was left alone with the baby on his hands. It was + at this time that he dropped completely out of sight, and + Pettingill never heard from him again. He thinks, however, from + very substantial rumor, that Carringford went back to England, + taking the child with him. He didn't go to his own folks, though, + that's certain; for Pettingill has heard from them occasionally, + and they never mention him. There was another rumor afloat about + him for a time, that he had taken to earning his living by singing + at cheap concerts under an assumed name. All of which might be + entirely likely. But what became of the child, Pettingill never + knew--nor any one else, I'm afraid. Well, that's all I've + ascertained up to date, but I'm still on the track, and if I hear + any further news, I'll let you know at once." + +When the captain stopped reading, all of them looked very serious, and +no one said a word for several minutes. + +"You see," he began at last, "why I don't like the looks of the thing. +This seems to cover almost all the points we've been in doubt about, +though of course, it _does_ leave quite a little to conjecture. I +somehow dislike to think of little Cecily as a mixture of Chinese and +English. In fact, it's almost impossible to think of her as such. And +yet it seems remarkably near the truth." + +"If that man assumed a name," interrupted Marcia, "I suppose it might as +easily be Marlowe as anything else." + +"Just as easily," admitted Captain Brett. + +"And he went back to England--just where Cecily came here from," added +Janet, lugubriously. + +"But then why doesn't Cecily remember something about him?" cried +Marcia, hopefully. + +"He may have been dead a good while, or he may have sent her off +somewhere else," answered the captain, dashing this hope. "He wouldn't +be likely to drag a child about in any such life as he must have had to +lead." + +They all sank into a depressed silence again. Suddenly Marcia had +another idea. + +"But look here!" she exclaimed. "Major Goodrich says that man was at +Hong Kong and the bracelet says 'Amoy,' as plain as plain can be. Isn't +that enough proof that it can't be the same one?" + +Again the captain had to dampen her hopes. "They might have gone to Amoy +to be married," he said. "It's entirely possible. You can't tell +anything about that." + +"And besides," put in Janet, "you got the bracelet at Hong Kong, didn't +you, Captain Brett? So if it really belonged to those people, it was +still pretty near home." + +"Well, it is useless to conjecture about these things," added the +captain. "What bothers me most of all is the question of what earthly +connection all this can have with Miss Benedict. There doesn't seem to +be the least likelihood that the Carringfords were any relations of +hers, and unless Cecily was simply sent there on a chance, because it +was known that she was a wealthy woman and might be willing to provide +for the child, I'm quite at a loss to explain it." + +"I wonder if there is any way we could find out?" mused Marcia. + +"I know a very good way," declared Janet. "Simply ask her." + +"What? And explain all this strange business about Cecily's parents +right away?" demanded Marcia. + +"Oh, no! Just ask her if she ever had any connections in England named +Carringford. She'll say either yes or no to that. And if she says yes, +why then we'll know we are on the right track and can think what to do +next." + +"Janet's advice is pretty good," asserted Captain Brett. "And if I were +you, I'd put the question to Miss Benedict the next time you see her. +It's about the only way I can think of now to solve this riddle." + +And so it was decided that the very next day, when the girls expected to +go and visit Cecily, they should ask Miss Benedict the dread question. + + * * * * * + +Cecily met them at the gate the next afternoon. "Oh, I'm so glad you've +come!" she cried. "I'm really very lonely. Miss Benedict is going to be +away all the afternoon because she has some business to attend to. She +says we can sit in the garden." + +At this piece of news the girls' faces fell. + +"Why, what's the matter?" questioned Cecily. "Don't you care to? I +thought you'd be rather pleased." + +"Indeed, it will be fine!" declared Marcia, striving to hide her +disappointment at the news that Miss Benedict would not be visible that +day. She and Janet had counted so positively on having one at least, of +their vexed questions settled immediately that it was difficult to feel +they must wait two or three days more. For on the morrow Cecily was to +visit them, as they now spent alternate days in each others' houses, and +the day after, Captain Brett had promised to take the three of them on a +trip up the Hudson. + +All that afternoon, however, Marcia and Janet were noticeably +inattentive and absent-minded. Once Marcia, who was reading aloud to the +others, stopped short in the middle of a sentence, and remained for +three whole minutes gazing off at nothing. And at this, Cecily could +contain her wonder no longer. + +"Girls, are you, by any chance--annoyed at me?" she ventured. Marcia +suddenly dragged herself back to the affairs of the moment. + +"Of course not, deary. How could you think such a thing?" she declared +heartily. + +"Then something else is the matter," insisted Cecily. "You are worrying +about something. I never knew you to act so strangely. Now tell me, +aren't you?" + +Marcia glanced uneasily at Janet. "Well, yes, we are," she admitted +reluctantly. "But please don't ask us anything about it just yet, +Cecily. Something that has come up lately seems kind of queer and--and +unpleasant. But it may turn out all right in the end, so we don't want +to tell you till we know positively." + +Cecily looked alarmed. "Is it--is it anything about me?" she faltered. +"But perhaps I oughtn't to ask." Marcia looked terribly unhappy at this +question, and Janet came to her rescue. + +"Yes, it is, Cecily," she declared with assumed cheerfulness. "Captain +Brett has stumbled across something that seems as if it might have some +connection with your affairs. But we don't want you to hear about it +till we are positive. Now don't worry about it, because I'm perfectly +certain everything is going to turn out all right. You won't worry, will +you?" She put her arm around Cecily and laid her cheek against the +golden hair. + +"No, I'll try not to," Cecily assured them, "and I'll promise not to ask +you another thing about it till you're ready to tell me yourselves." +After that she settled down quietly, but it was apparent to the girls +that, in spite of her assurances, she was worried and nervous and +unhappy. Presently Janet had an inspiration. + +"You two sit here. I'm going out for a few moments," she announced, +determined to break the tension of unrest and nervousness by some +diversion. Nor would she reveal to them what her errand was to be. She +returned in twenty minutes, however, with a box of delicious French +ice-cream and some dainty cakes. And for the next half-hour they had a +gay time in the garden, serving and consuming the welcome treat. In the +end they had temporarily quite forgotten the unhappiness of the earlier +hour, and when they returned home the two girls left Cecily laughing and +cheerful. + +Nor did she, all through the ensuing two days, refer in any way to their +conversation in the garden. If the matter worried her, she gave no sign, +and the girls could not help admiring her self-control. + +Three days later, Marcia and Janet went again to spend the afternoon +with Cecily, and found to their relief that Miss Benedict was at home. +At least, they learned the fact from Cecily. The lady herself they did +not see when they entered. And indeed, there was a chance, that they +might not have so much as a glimpse of her during their visit, for it +frequently happened that she was not visible during an entire afternoon. + +Would she speak to them that day? That was the question. And, what was +even more important, would they have a chance to speak to her unobserved +by Cecily? For they did not wish the girl to overhear what they had to +ask, nor even to know that they were seeking an interview with her +guardian. + +For the major part of the afternoon it did not seem as if their wish +would be granted. Miss Benedict did not appear, and so nervous and +anxious were they that they could scarcely keep their thoughts on the +conversation that Cecily was striving to keep up or, later, on the book +they were reading. Cecily had declared that her room seemed very warm, +so they were sitting once more in the garden. This also was a +disappointment, for it lessened considerably their chances of seeing the +lady of their hopes. + +Half-past five came round, and still they had not attained their wish. +Marcia had just risen, with a resigned sigh, to propose that they take +their departure, when the side door opened and Miss Benedict appeared. +At the sight of her the hearts of Marcia and Janet gave a delighted +thump, and they greeted her with a pleasure, the warmth of which she +could not entirely understand. + +But now came the problem of getting Cecily out of the way for a time. It +was evident that she had no intention of leaving them of her own accord. +And it was Marcia's happy idea that solved this riddle. + +"Cecily," she suddenly inquired, "do you happen to have finished that +book I lent you last week?" + +"Oh, yes! I finished it last night. I meant to return it to-day," said +Cecily. "Wait a moment and I'll get it from my room. You must be anxious +to finish it yourself, I know." And she hurried indoors, unconscious of +the unutterable relief with which they watched her go. When she was out +of sight, Marcia turned to Miss Benedict. + +"Please pardon me for asking a personal question," she began hurriedly, +"but it is only because we think it is something that concerns Cecily. +Did you ever have, in England or anywhere, any relatives or--or even +friends by the name of Carringford?" Miss Benedict was bonneted and +veiled as usual, so they could not see her face. And they would have +given much to have been able to read her expression when she heard this +question. + +But she answered, very promptly and positively: "No, I never knew of any +one at all by that name. Why do you ask?" + +They could hear Cecily's footsteps returning down the stairs. + +"Only because we have discovered something in connection with people of +that name, that seems to concern Cecily," Marcia explained hastily. +"Sometime we will tell you all about it. We thought perhaps you'd know +them. Please--please don't tell Cecily we've spoken about it--just yet." +Miss Benedict had only time to signify that she would follow their +request, when Cecily appeared in the doorway and the interview was over. + +As they walked home later they both admitted to a feeling of intense +relief that Miss Benedict, at least, knew nothing about any +Carringfords. + +"Of course, her not knowing them doesn't _prove_ anything," declared +Janet. "But one thing is certain. If she _had_ known them, it would +have been positive that all this horrid story is connected with Cecily. +But as she doesn't, it gives one more chance that it has nothing to do +with her." + +As they entered the hall of the apartment, the captain called out to +them from the living-room: + +"Hurry in, girls! There's another letter from the major waiting for +you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE UNEXPECTED + + +The major's letter did nothing, however, to lighten the gloom. On the +contrary, it only increased it tenfold. The main substance of it was in +this paragraph: + + It's singular how much you can dig out about a subject, once you + put your mind to it. I thought at first that I had told you all + that was known about Jack Carringford and his affairs--all that + could be discovered. But the deeper I go into it, the more I seem + to unearth. Yesterday another friend to whom I had written, on the + off-chance of getting a little information (but from whom I really + didn't expect much) sent me this bit of news. It seems he heard it + said that after Carringford went back to England he married again, + and it is thought that he did not live very long after,--died + suddenly of pneumonia, or something like it, in an obscure town in + the north of England. Perhaps this will help you some in your + amateur detective work. If I glean any more information, I'll let + you know at once. I rather enjoy this delving into the past. + +"Oh, horrors!" exclaimed Marcia. "Could anything be plainer than this is +getting to be? Of course, that explains it all! Cecily didn't remember +her father, and her 'mother' was really her stepmother. I wonder if she +knows it. She never mentioned it, but then she seldom speaks of her +mother, anyway. Though I always thought, from the way she acted, that +she was very fond of her." + +"It certainly grows more convincing with every added piece of news we +hear," mused the captain. "I wish we _could_ find some loophole for +thinking that this tangle doesn't concern Cecily. But how on earth she +can have any Chinese ancestry, beats me. She doesn't show a trace of it. +One would certainly think she'd have almond eyes and coarse, straight +hair, or a dark complexion, or _something_! It's the one thing that +gives me the slightest hope that she can't be Carringford's daughter." + +"But what shall we do now?" questioned Janet, bringing them back +abruptly to the affairs of the moment. + +"The first thing to do," declared Captain Brett, "is to question Cecily +about her father and mother, and see what _she_ knows. She may recall +something that will give us another clue. If this proves to be the right +trail, we've got to follow it up, get into communication with the +Carringfords in England, and see if they will do anything about her. +They ought to be willing to provide for his daughter. But we'll have to +be very sure of our facts, or they'll pay no attention, I suppose. +Somehow or other we'll have to trace out Carringford's career in England +after he returned. I wish I knew the name he assumed, but no one seems +to be able to tell us that." + +"But even _still_, we haven't the slightest clue to the reason why +Cecily was sent to Miss Benedict," mused Marcia. + +"Why, yes, we have something new now," interrupted Janet. "Hasn't it +occurred to you that Mr. Carringford's second wife might have been some +connection of the Benedicts, or known them, or something?" + +"Sure enough! sure enough!" cried the captain, thumping his knee. "This +puts the thing in an entirely new light. We must find out a little more +about that second wife. You get what you can from Cecily, but do be +careful how you question her. The child is sensitive, and was apparently +very fond of the lady she called her mother. Try not to probe too +deeply. And remember to explain to her that you are not asking just out +of idle curiosity, which she'd be perfectly right in resenting." + +It was with no very pleasant anticipations that Marcia and Janet looked +forward to their interview with Cecily next afternoon. How to approach +the subject without giving her a clue to the real state of affairs, they +were puzzled to know. Plan after plan they formed, only to reject after +thinking them over. "Suppose Cecily should ask this," or "What if Cecily +should inquire why we say that?" spoiled every outline of the +conversation that they could imagine. At last Janet declared: + +"It's perfectly useless to think now what we'll say, or what she'll +answer. Let's just wait till the time comes and say what seems best at +the moment. The whole conversation may be entirely different from +anything we plan." + +"I guess you're right," sighed Marcia. "I'm tired out thinking about it, +anyhow." And so they put it all aside till Cecily's arrival. + +When she came, that afternoon, she found two very serious and thoughtful +friends awaiting her. One thing at least, they had determined,--not to +put off the dreaded interview till later in the day, but have it over at +once and get it off their minds. So when they were all comfortably +seated in Marcia's cozy room, Janet began: + +"Cecily, would you mind very much if we asked you a few questions? You +remember, the other day, we said that something had come up concerning +you, we thought, and we would tell you about it later. Well, we aren't +quite ready to tell you _all_ about it yet, but it would help a great +deal if you'd answer a few questions about yourself. Will you?" And she +felt an immense sensation of relief, after these words were spoken, at +having at least taken the first plunge. + +"Why, of course!" assented Cecily, wonderingly. "That is, if I possibly +can." + +"And you'll remember that we aren't asking just out of curiosity, but +because it may help to untangle your affairs?" interrupted Marcia, +anxiously. Cecily only smiled and squeezed her hand, as if an answer to +that were unnecessary. + +"Well, dear," said Janet, in a hesitating voice, "could you tell us +whether you know this: was your father ever married twice?" + +Cecily started and flushed a little. "Oh, I--I don't know anything about +such a thing!" she murmured. "I--I don't think so. You see, he died +before I remember anything about him, and my mother never spoke of him +to me very much." + +"Then she never told you anything about that?" went on Janet. + +"No," replied Cecily, very positively. + +"Now, I have one more question to ask that I'm afraid may startle you, +but please don't attach too much importance to it. Was the lady you +called mother your real mother or your stepmother?" + +This time Cecily fairly jumped. "Oh, no, no!" she cried. "I'm sure, I'm +very sure she was my own mother. She would certainly have told me if she +had not been. I would have known it. Why do you ask?" + +"That, you know, is what we can't just explain yet," answered Janet, +evidently distressed. "Were you very, very fond of her, Cecily?" + +"Indeed, yes!" replied the puzzled girl. "How could I help but be? She +was so lovely and sweet and good to me, and seemed to live only for my +comfort and happiness. I never dreamed of such a thing as her not being +my own mother." There were real tears in Cecily's eyes as she made this +declaration. Marcia and Janet experienced as unpleasant a sensation as +if they had been compelled to torture a helpless kitten. And yet the +task must be gone through with and there were further queries to make. + +"Do forgive us for all this, Cecily," begged Marcia. "It hurts us +horribly to make you feel badly. We wouldn't do it for the world if +there weren't a good reason. But can you tell us this? Was there +anything your mother ever said or did that would in any way suggest that +she might not be--your own mother? Think hard, Cecily dear." + +The girl sat a long while, chin in hand, staring out of the window at +the tightly shuttered expanse of "Benedict's Folly" opposite. No one +spoke, and the others made a vain pretense of working hard at their +embroidery. But the hands of both shook so that the stitches were very, +very crooked indeed. At last Cecily turned to them and spoke in a very +subdued voice: + +"These things are making me very unhappy, but I know you only mean them +for my good. My mother did say one or two things that I thought nothing +of at the time, but now, since your questions, seem as if they may have +another meaning. One was this. We were looking in the mirror together +one time, and I said how queer it was that I didn't look a bit like +her. I was so fair and light-haired, and had rosy cheeks, and she was +dark and her eyes were brown and her hair almost black. She smiled and +said: + +"'No, it isn't very strange when you think--' and then stopped very +suddenly and flushed quite red. And I asked her what she meant, but she +only replied: 'Oh, nothing, nothing, dear! Children often look very +different from their parents, not at all like them.' And she wouldn't +say any more. I thought it strange for a while, but soon forgot all +about it. I can't imagine now what she meant, unless it was--that. The +only other thing I remember is this. I asked her one time whether, when +I was a tiny little baby, I wore pink or blue bows on my dresses. She +was very busy about something at the time and she just said, sort of +absent-mindedly, 'I don't know I'm sure.' And then she added, in a great +hurry, 'Oh, I don't remember! Pink, I guess.' I thought it strange that +she should forget how she dressed me, for she always had a very good +memory. But I forgot that, too, very soon. That is all." + +Marcia and Janet glanced uneasily at each other. The information seemed +to confirm their worst apprehensions. But Janet went on: + +"Just one more question, dear, and we'll stop this horrid inquisition. +Can you tell us what was your mother's maiden name, the name of her +people?" + +"Yes," said Cecily. "It was Treadwell. But she hadn't any people +left--they were all dead, and she was the last one of her family. But, +oh! can't you tell me, girls, why you have had to ask all these +questions? I have waited so patiently, and I have worried so about it +all. And what you have said to-day has made me feel worse than ever." + +"Dear heart, we don't want to tell you quite yet," soothed Marcia. "It +wouldn't do you any good to know about it till we're positive beyond a +doubt. It isn't anything so very terrible, anyhow. Nothing to worry +about at all. But just something we wish might be a little different. +And nothing could possibly make the least difference in the way we care +for you, anyway, so just don't worry another bit. Now I'm going to play +for you." And she drew her violin from its case. + +Marcia gave them quite a concert that afternoon, rendering selection +after selection to please them, glad indeed of the diversion and relief +from the unpleasantness of their accomplished task. But she did not play +the "Traeumerei," for some reason not very well defined even to herself, +but vaguely connected with recent disclosures. At last Cecily herself +asked for it, and then, of course, Marcia could not refrain from +obliging her. When it was over, Cecily took her departure, and the +girls, left alone, plunged at once into the discussion of the most +recent developments of the mystery. + +That evening Captain Brett and the two girls held a council of war. + +"There's no denying," he said, "we've discovered the most important +thing yet in learning that name--Treadwell. We've something to work +from now. With that to start from, I can set on foot some inquiries over +in England that may establish her identity. And you must ask Miss +Benedict (though I hate to be constantly troubling her in this way) if +she has any recollection of some one by that name who could possibly +have any claim on her. Do this as soon as possible. We're certain to get +at the root of the matter very soon now." + +"Do you think," asked Marcia, "that those remarks of her mother's that +Cecily repeated look as if we were right in believing it to be her +stepmother?" + +"It certainly seems so to me," he acknowledged. "Of course, we must +remember this. When you have a suspicion that certain things are so, +every little circumstance and every lightest remark seem to confirm you +in that belief. Often these things have absolutely no bearing on it +whatever, but you _think_ they have, simply because you fear that they +have or want them to have. So we mustn't be misled by chance remarks. I +will admit, however, that these particular ones seem singularly to bear +us out in our conjectures." + +"Well, do let's get some of these things settled to-morrow," sighed +Marcia. "I'm losing so much sleep over it that I'm beginning to feel +like an owl. I just worry and worry all night long it seems to me. Let's +ask Miss Benedict about the name of Treadwell when we go there, if we +can possibly manage to see her." + +"I'm sorry to disappoint you about that," interrupted the captain. "But +I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to remain at home to-morrow. I'm due +downtown on some errands that will take me to a number of places. And at +the same time, I'm expecting an important business message over the +telephone. I shall have to ask you to be here without fail to take the +message for me. I can't trust Eliza to get it right. So you'll have to +put off your visit for another day. But don't be too much disappointed, +for while I'm away I shall be making inquiries as to how we must go +about tracing the name of Treadwell in England. That will be something +accomplished." And with this consolation the girls had to be content. + +"Now," said Janet, next morning, when the captain had gone and they had +resigned themselves to a long day of waiting, "I have a plan to propose. +Let's not talk or even _think_ a thing about all this business to-day. +If we do, we'll only make ourselves more miserable than we are. I found +a perfectly fascinating new book in the library yesterday. Let's sit and +read it, turn about, and see if we can't both finish those centerpieces +we've been working on so long. We'll have to work like everything to do +it. That ought to keep our minds off of our troubles. And we'll +telephone for some French pastry for dessert at luncheon, and some candy +for this afternoon." + +The plan seemed to offer pleasant possibilities, and they both settled +themselves comfortably in the cool living-room to pass the morning. The +book was well begun and the embroidery advancing rapidly, when Eliza +came in with a letter just left in the box, and deposited it on the +library table. + +"It's for the captain," she announced, as she turned away. Marcia jumped +up and scrutinized the writing. + +"Oh, Janet!" she exclaimed at once; "it's from the major!" + +"It is?" cried her friend, apprehensively. "Then it's some more horrid +news he's unearthed. I'm certain of it! Not a letter comes from him but +it's something to worry us more. I just hate the sight of them!" + +"Yes; and what's more," moaned Marcia, "we can't even know what's in +this one till Father comes home this evening. Why, I feel as if I'd go +crazy, having to wait all that time!" + +"Well, you'll have to wait," commented Janet, philosophically, "so you +might as well do it as peacefully as you can. Come, let's go on with our +book." + +It was all very well to speak philosophically about the matter, however, +but to _act_ so was a different affair. Try as they might, they could +not, from that moment, concentrate their minds on the pleasant program +they had mapped out for themselves. A dozen times during the morning +Marcia would stop reading and glance speculatively at the unopened +letter. A dozen times Janet left her fancy-work and strolled over to +inspect the superscription anew. The French pastry at luncheon failed to +soothe them, and the candy in the afternoon remained uneaten. + +At three o'clock they took to staring out of the window to watch for the +captain's return. And as they watched they detailed to each other the +various things they surmised might be in the major's letter. Marcia +asserted that he had probably discovered the second wife's name to be +Treadwell, thus confirming their worst fears. And Janet declared that he +had no doubt ascertained just why Cecily had been sent to the Benedict +home. Perhaps it was even to prevent her being sent back to China to her +mandarin grandfather. Nothing they could imagine was too dreadful to fit +into the scheme of things. By half past five they were the most +miserable pair of girls in the big city. And at that moment, they heard +the captain's key in the hall door. + +"Quick! quick! quick!" they breathlessly panted at him, explaining +nothing, but only waving the major's letter in his face. Asking no +questions, he took it, slit it open, and glanced hurriedly through the +contents. Then he gave a long, low whistle. + +"Oh, tell us!" groaned Marcia. "What more that's quite horrible has he +found out?" + +For answer the captain sat down and laughed till the tears stood in his +eyes. At last he managed to gasp: "Well, of all the dances I've ever +been led, this is the worst and most foolish! But it's just like the +major. He always was the most impulsive chap. You'll be delighted to +know that he's made one more discovery--and that is that he has been +'barking up the wrong tree,' as they say. Here's what he writes: + + "It occurred to me yesterday, in connection with this affair, to + look up some of the old diaries I used to keep in the China days. + They have been stored away in the attic in a chest for years, but + I got them out and have been running over them, hoping to come + across an entry that might have some bearing on the matter in + question. And, quite to my chagrin, I did discover this. I will + quote it, just as it stands: _Today Carringford was married + according to native customs. None of us invited._ + + "But here's the point of departure, so to speak. This entry was + made on March 10, 1890, and you see it doesn't agree at all with + the inscription on your bracelet, which is, I believe, September + 25, 1889. So, of course, the only inference that can be drawn is + that they were two separate and distinct affairs that have + absolutely no connection. So sorry! Anything else I can do for + you, I'll be delighted, etc., etc." + +The captain did not finish the remainder of the letter, for the +excellent reason that no one of his audience was paying the least +attention to it. + +When he looked up, at this point, Marcia was prone on the couch +alternately sobbing and laughing and sobbing again, and Janet was +staring out of the window, blinking hard to restrain the tears of relief +that would insist on rolling down her cheeks. + +And in the midst of this curious state of affairs, who should open the +door and walk in but--Aunt Minerva! Suitcase in hand, she stared at the +three in amazement for a second till, with a glad cry of recognition, +they all rushed upon her and literally snowed her under with embraces. + +"I couldn't let you know I was coming, because I didn't know myself till +this morning," she explained. "Drusilla's sister Ellen came in +unexpectedly from the West, and of course that relieved me. I just +packed up in half an hour, and here I am. Whatever is the matter with +you all? When I came in you looked as if you'd just attended the funeral +of your last friend. I hope Eliza hasn't given you all indigestion!" + +"We'll tell you after dinner, Minerva," laughed the captain. "It's a +long and complicated tale. My, but we're glad to see you again!" + +That evening they made her sit down and listen while they rehearsed the +story. It had to begin with the description of their day on shipboard, +the very day that she had gone away, and ended with the major's final +letter. + +She listened to it all very quietly and without any comments whatever, +except for an indignant and scornful sniff once in a while. + +"Well," demanded Marcia, when it was over and they were waiting for her +to speak, "what do you think of it?" + +"I think," she remarked cryptically, "that you needed Minerva Brett here +to manage this affair for you. _She_ would have given you a little +better advice than to go off on a wild goose chase down to Pennsylvania +on the wrong trail!" + +They stared at her in open-mouthed amazement. + +"You might explain yourself, Minerva," mildly suggested the captain. + +"I _might_, but I'm not going to!" she replied firmly. "At least, not +just at present." And with a tantalizing smile, she sweetly bade them +all good night and departed to her room. + +"Janet," said Marcia, that night, as she curled her arms up over her +head on the pillow, "isn't it heavenly to go to sleep with that horrid +weight lifted from your mind? We seem to be just as far as ever from +solving the riddle about Cecily, but at least, the darling isn't the +granddaughter of a mandarin! But, do you know, I can't help but wonder +where that poor little granddaughter is, and what became of her. She +sort of seems like a real person to me now." + +"I don't wonder about her, and what's more, I don't care," sighed Janet. +"As long as it wasn't Cecily. What's puzzling me is how your aunt +expects to solve the riddle? What can _she_ know about it?" + +"Well, I don't bother about _that_," returned Marcia, "because I'm glad +to let somebody else have a hand in working at it now. I'm content to +leave it to Aunt Minerva!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AUNT MINERVA TAKES COMMAND + + +For an entire week thereafter Aunt Minerva went her own mysterious way, +calm and unruffled herself, but keeping the rest of her family on +tenter-hooks of excitement. + +She wrote mysterious letters which she would allow no one but herself to +mail, and received mysterious replies, the contents of which she kept a +dark secret. They watched her with the feeling that they were quite +outside the game now, and that she had the keys of the situation +entirely in her own hands. Which was indeed the truth! + +At last one day, after receiving a particularly bulky communication, she +deigned to speak. + +"Can you carry a message for me to Miss Benedict?" she inquired of +Marcia and Janet. + +"Yes!" they replied eagerly, but humbly. + +"Ask her if she could possibly grant an interview in her own house to +the four of us here--and one other. It's very important." + +"Oh, Aunt Minerva, you _know_ she never receives _any_ strangers in the +house!" expostulated Marcia. + +"I know that, of course. And you told me the reason, which I quite +appreciate. But there's bound to come a time, even in her peculiar +experience, when it's expedient to break a rule like that. The time has +come now, and you can tell her that I'm sure she'll be very sorry if she +does not grant this request. The matter intimately concerns her, or I +would not dream of intruding on her." + +"Well, you may as well tell _us_ what you've been concocting, Minerva," +interrupted Captain Brett. "You've kept us in the dark about long +enough, haven't you? And if I'm to go in there with the procession, I'd +like to know a thing or two about where I'm at, instead of sitting +around like a dummy! And who is this 'other one' you allude to, anyway?" + +Miss Minerva laughed at his impatience. "You may well ask, Edwin! I +think you must have been about as blind as a bat not to see right along +what struck _me_ the very first minute after you told me what the +jig-saw things on that bracelet meant! As soon as I heard the word +'Amoy' the idea jumped right into my mind. About two months ago I heard +a most wonderful address by a Dr. Atwater, a medical missionary from +China, whose headquarters are at the hospital in _Amoy_. And you can +easily see that I thought of him at once, when--" + +"By Jove!" thundered the captain, striking his knee with his fist, "what +a jolly goose I've been not to have thought of the _missions_ there at +once!" + +"I should say you were!" commented Miss Minerva, caustically. "You and +the major together!" + +"Well, you see I've never come in contact with them much--" began the +captain, apologetically. + +"Never mind that now," went on Miss Minerva. "I thought of Dr. Atwater +right away. He's been there many years, and knows something about most +every one in the region, I guess. Anyhow, I decided that I'd get his +address (he's in this country on a year's furlough) and write to him +about this queer case. And I did. And he has answered me--" + +"And were you right?" they all interrupted. + +"I was _so_ right," she announced triumphantly, "that I've asked him to +come and tell this story (which he has only outlined in his letter) in +full to Miss Benedict. And I want you all to be there to hear it. And +what's more, I'm not going to tell you another word about it till you +hear it from him, so it's no use to tease for hints! Go right in and ask +Miss Benedict when she can arrange for this interview--the sooner, the +better!" + + * * * * * + +It was not an easy matter to persuade Miss Benedict to grant Aunt +Minerva's request. She was shy and timid about receiving strangers, and +her affection of the eyes, as well as her curious manner of living, made +it hard for her to do so. She had to acknowledge that it would be even +harder to see them elsewhere. Nor could she believe that the affair +really concerned _her_, except very indirectly--through Cecily, perhaps. +It was for Cecily's sake alone that she at last gave a reluctant +consent, assigning the following Wednesday afternoon as the appointed +time. And the intervening two days was spent by them all in a restless +fever of expectation--all, at least, except Aunt Minerva! + + * * * * * + +On Wednesday afternoon, Dr. Atwater arrived at the apartment and was +taken in charge at once by Miss Minerva, who guarded him like a dragon +lest a hint of the important secret should slip out before the appointed +time. He was a tall, angular man with a gray, Vandyke beard, and his +face was grave in repose. But he talked brightly and interestingly and +had the jolliest laugh in the world. The girls thought him very unlike +their preconceived notions of a missionary. He and the captain +fraternized at once, exchanging tales of the Far East to which Janet +and Marcia listened in absorbed wonder. + +But at last Aunt Minerva was ready, and the "procession" (as the captain +insisted on calling it) filed into the street and proceeded to the gate +of "Benedict's Folly." So unusual was the sight of the little crowd +waiting to be admitted, where no admittance had been granted in so many +years, that every passer-by stared at them open-mouthed. + +Miss Benedict opened the gate, bonneted and veiled as usual, and Marcia +made the introductions as best she could, to which Miss Benedict's +replies were murmured so low that no one could hear them. Then she led +the way to the house and into the darkened parlor, where they all sat +down, with a sensation of heavy constraint. After that, Cecily came in +and was presented to Dr. Atwater. He started slightly when he saw her, +and looked into her face long and scrutinizingly in the dim light. + +When Miss Benedict had removed her bonnet and veil Aunt Minerva broke +the silence: + +"Miss Benedict, I have brought Dr. Atwater here because I have +discovered that he has something to tell you--something that will be of +intense interest to you. I know this may seem incredible, but I can only +beg that you will do us the favor to listen." + +Miss Benedict inclined her head without speaking, and Aunt Minerva +continued: + +"You have heard, I believe, about the curious incident of the bracelets, +but I do not know whether you have heard about the translation of the +strange characters on them." + +Miss Benedict murmured that she had not, and Miss Minerva explained it +as briefly as she could. Then she went on: + +"Dr. Atwater, here, is a medical missionary from Amoy, and I have found +that he not only knew the owner of the bracelets, but has some personal +recollections about them that we think will concern you. Will you listen +to Dr. Atwater, if you please?" + +Miss Benedict again bowed in assent, and Dr. Atwater began in an easy, +conversational tone: + +"Miss Brett has remarked correctly that I knew the owner of the +bracelets, and all about the characters on them, and a good deal of the +story connected with them. By sheer chance, or rather, perhaps, I ought +to say by very good reasoning, she has hit on about the only person +living now who does know anything about them! Here's the story: + +"A good many years ago in Amoy--I was quite a _young_ doctor then--I was +thrown in with a clever young fellow who had recently landed there, +having come on a sailing-ship from America. He seemed rather at loose +ends, so to speak,--didn't know the language, didn't have any money, +didn't know what to do with himself, didn't have any occupation, and +spent most of his time wandering aimlessly about the town. + +"He was a fine, upstanding, straightforward chap (he said his name was +Archibald Ferris), but he evidently had something on his mind, for he +was gloomy and depressed. It began to worry me for fear he'd drift into +trouble if he kept on that way. So I tried to get him interested in my +own work, and invited him to go around with me on some of my long tours. +We didn't have any hospital then, and I had to go about from town to +town doing my medical work as I went. He came with me very gladly, and +was of a good deal of assistance, and we grew to be firm friends. But I +realized there was something he was pining for, and after a long while +he confessed to me what it was. + +"He wanted a _violin_! He adored music, played well, but had lost or +parted from his instrument in some way. (He didn't explain that, just +then.) Well, a missionary's salary isn't munificent, so I couldn't very +well grant his wish out of my own pocket, much as I wanted to. The best +I could do was to get him a position in a Chinese tea-exporting house in +Amoy, where he could earn the money himself. It was better for him to be +regularly occupied, anyway. + +"After a few months he had saved a sufficient sum, and sent off to +Shanghai for his coveted treasure--he couldn't wait to get it over from +America! After it came he was actually happy--for a while. He _was_ a +marvelous musician for his age, I'll admit, and he could hold us +spellbound an entire evening at a time with his bow. The natives adored +him, and gave him the name 'Chok-gak e lang' or 'maker of melodies.' + +"Well, he had the musical temperament, and after his violin came he +couldn't stay long in the tea-house, but got to going about with me +again on my tours--always with his precious violin. He was really of the +greatest assistance, because his music was almost as good as an +anaesthetic in many instances--could calm the most excitable fever-case I +ever came across. + +"It was on one of these tours that he met young Miss Cecily Marlowe at +the English mission in Sio-khe--" + +At this point every one gave a little start of surprise and looked +toward Cecily, who alone sat gazing, wide-eyed and absorbed, at Dr. +Atwater. + +"She was a wonderfully beautiful girl," he continued, "with a color +like English roses in her cheeks. The Chinese called her +'Flower-maiden,' or 'Hor-lu.' She had but recently come to the mission +from her home in England. Well, it was a case of love at first sight on +both sides! And before many more months Ferris announced to me that he +was going back into the position at the tea-house and there earn enough +money to be able to marry her. But he also told me that Miss Marlowe, +while very much in love with him, was still very devoted to her work +there and very earnest about the cause for which she had left her home +and come so far to serve. She insisted that, if they married, she must +still be allowed to continue in the missionary work. To this he was +perfectly willing to assent. + +"So they were married in the English mission at Amoy, and on the +wedding-day he gave her this pair of bracelets which he had had made +after his own design. They were not an expensive gift, but he was poor, +in worldly goods, and it was the best he could afford. After the +honeymoon they built a little home on the island of Ko-longsu, right +near the city of Amoy. He went on with his work in the tea-house, and +she with her teaching in the mission-school on the island. + +"It seemed an ideal arrangement, and they were ideally happy for a +number of years. He never advanced very far in the tea-house, for he +loved his music too well and he had no head for business. But he made +enough to keep them comfortably, and more they did not want. + +"Then about 1898, I think, came a change. To their great joy a little +daughter was born to them. She was a beautiful baby, and for over a year +there was no happier home in all China. But one day, when the baby was +about a year and a half old, Ferris came to me and told me he was in +trouble and wanted my advice. + +"He began by telling me that the baby seemed to be drooping and that he +himself was not feeling quite up to the mark. I looked them both over +and found he was right. The climate was too much for them. It is for +many foreigners sooner or later. I told him they ought to go home for a +year or so and recuperate. He said he couldn't--didn't have any home to +go to, in fact. Had long ago quarreled violently with his people, and +would never go back to them. Moreover, he had his wife and baby to +consider. He couldn't afford to give up and lose his position. If he +did, what were they to do? + +"I suggested that they go to his wife's people in England. He said there +was difficulty in that direction, too. She had only a married brother +and his wife, and they had not approved of her giving up all her +prospects to come to China as a missionary. They heard from them only at +long intervals, though recently, to be sure, they had offered to take +care of the little girl if the time came that she needed change of air. + +"Ferris told me that he and his wife naturally could not bear to +consider such a thing, but on the other hand, the baby's welfare must be +their first consideration. What should I advise them to do? + +"I considered the matter carefully, and at last told him he'd better +accept the offer to care for the baby for a year or so. She, at least, +would be provided for, and he and his wife could then take their chances +without imperiling her future. To follow this advice nearly broke their +hearts, but the next missionaries who went back to England on furlough +took the baby with them, and gave her into the care of the brother and +his wife. It is needless to say that Cecily Ferris is the same whom we +know as Cecily Marlowe. I would recognize her anywhere, for she is the +image of her mother." And he looked toward the girl sitting in the dim +light, held by the wonder of his story. The silence that ensued was +broken first by her. + +"Tell me, if you please," she half whispered, "did my father ever--ever +play to me on his violin? Do you know what he played?" + +"Why, I'm sure he did," smiled Dr. Atwater. "I used to stop at his house +early in the evening sometimes, and I generally found him fiddling away +by the side of your cradle. Mostly it was an air he called 'Traeumerei,' +or something like that. I'm not very good at remembering musical +names." + +"I knew it!--I _knew_ I'd heard it somewhere, over and over again, when +I was little!" she cried. "And yet I never could remember anything else +about it!" + +"He used to say it was his favorite," remarked Dr. Atwater. + +Suddenly Miss Benedict spoke, for the first time during the recital. +There was a tremble of suppressed excitement in her voice. + +"Is that all the story?" + +"Oh, no!" resumed Dr. Atwater. "There's not much more to tell, but I'm +sorry to say, the rest is not very cheerful. After the baby's departure +Ferris's health failed perceptibly. He finally gave up his position, but +Mrs. Ferris kept on with her work and nursed him as well. But the strain +of all this began to tell on her, and at last, in 1900, I advised her to +take a holiday, and go north to Tientsin with her husband to recuperate. +We missionaries raised enough among ourselves to finance this little +vacation for them. Before he went, however, Ferris had a long talk with +me one day, and confided to me a few things about himself and his past. +To begin with, he said that Archibald Ferris was not his right name. He +had assumed it at a certain period of his life because he had broken +away from his family, and did not deem it best that what remained of +that family should ever know he existed. They probably thought him +dead--in fact he was sure that they did. And his return to existence, so +far as they were concerned, would simply complicate family affairs. Only +his wife knew who these relatives were. He had recently, however, sent +word to his wife's brother that should anything ever happen by which +Cecily would be left alone, she should be sent to America and placed in +the care of this family, whose name he had given them under the seal of +secrecy, if the brother and his wife were unable or unwilling to provide +for her. He also sent one of the bracelets to England to be given to his +little daughter, requesting that she be always allowed to keep it. The +mother always wore the other one. + +"He was very much depressed that day, and told me, besides, that his +career had been wrecked in the beginning--that he had dreamed of being a +great violinist, but had been thwarted in strange ways. However, he +declared that his life in China had been happy beyond words, except for +the unhappy present. Then he bade me good-by, as he was starting for +Tientsin the next day." + +Dr. Atwater stopped abruptly and swallowed hard, as if what he had to +tell next came with an effort. He went on presently. "It was at the time +of the Boxer uprising. Ferris and his wife had almost reached Tientsin +when the trouble broke out there, and--they were never seen alive +again!" He stopped, and there was a tense silence in the room. + +At last he continued: "I have always blamed myself for having been the +unwitting cause of their death. I had advised them to go to Tientsin, +though of course I could not foresee the dark days that were about to +come. I wish with all my soul that I had not done so, that I had, +perhaps, sent them somewhere else, but it is irrevocable now. There is +no use dwelling on the past. + +"Doubtless that is how the other bracelet came to be cast loose on the +Oriental world. Probably it was stolen at the time, and passed from hand +to hand till it came into the possession of Captain Brett. It is a +strange coincidence that brought it back at last to its mate! + +"It became my sad duty to notify Mr. Marlowe of the tragedy. In his +reply--a frank, manly letter--he expressed his regret that a difference +of opinion had ever interrupted the cordiality of his relations with his +sister and her husband, and said that, as he and his wife already loved +little Cecily devotedly, they would adopt her as their own. They were +reluctant to have her childhood shadowed by her parents' sorrowful +story, and so believed it best that she should never know that she was +not indeed their daughter, Cecily Marlowe. + +"Well, that is the story of the man who called himself Archibald +Ferris," said Dr. Atwater. He looked about him inquiringly and added: "I +hope that my telling it has given all the enlightenment that was +expected?" + +During his long recital every one had sat with eyes fastened upon him, +and no one of his audience had a thought for the other. Now that it was +over they each drew a long breath and settled back in their chairs. And +then, for the first time, they noticed the curious conduct of Miss +Benedict. + +She was sitting far forward in her chair, her big gray eyes almost +starting from her head, her hands clutching the arms of the chair till +the blue veins stood out. On her forehead were great beads of +perspiration, and she drew her breath in little gasps. Quite unconscious +of their united gaze, she leaned forward and touched Dr. Atwater's arm +with an imploring hand. + +"Was there--was there no way of--of ascertaining his _real_ name?" she +stammered. + +Dr. Atwater looked at her with compassion in his kindly eyes. "I know of +but one thing that might have served as an identification," he conceded. +"When I was giving him the medical examination, I noticed on his left +upper arm two small initials surrounded by a tiny row of dots. They +were just such a mark as small boys often tattoo themselves with in +indelible ink, and of course, they are there for life. Doubtless he had +so decorated himself with his initials in his boyhood days--" + +"Oh, what _were_ the initials?" interrupted Miss Benedict in a stifled +voice. + +"They were 'S. B.,'" replied Dr. Atwater. + +With a little choking cry, Miss Benedict buried her face in her hands. + +"Oh, it can't--it _can't_ be _possible_!" they heard her murmur. Then in +an instant she had collected herself and gazed about at them all, +amazement and incredulity in her lovely eyes. + +"My friends," she spoke very quietly, "I cannot understand what this +means. My brother's name was Sydney Benedict, and I remember when, as a +boy, he had tattooed those initials on his left arm, as Dr. Atwater has +described them. And he performed wonderfully on the violin, and dreamed +only of being a great artist some day. He longed to go abroad and +study, but my father would not hear of it. He wished his only son to +enter his business and continue it after him. They were both +high-tempered and had many terrible quarrels about it. I--my sister and +I--sided with my father. At last my father threatened to disinherit +Sydney if he did not accede to his wishes. And on the following +morning--it was his twenty-first birthday--we found only a note pinned +to his pillow, saying he had gone away forever. He had taken with him +only his violin. + +"But," and here she hesitated, gazing around inquiringly on the company, +"I cannot understand what follows. Two weeks later we received word from +a steamer that had just arrived in Europe from New York, that a young +man named Sydney Benedict had fallen or jumped overboard one night when +they were two days out, and his loss was not discovered till next day. +Only his violin remained in the cabin. He was certainly lost at sea. I +cannot understand--" She suddenly pressed both hands to her head as if +it pained her. + +"Wait a moment!" cried Dr. Atwater. "I believe I can explain that. I +should have told it before, but I quite forgot; there was so much to +tell. He did once confide to me (apropos of some little adventure we had +had together on one of my trips, when I almost lost my life) that he too +had once had the narrowest kind of escape from death. He said that on +leaving America he had taken a steamer for Europe, hoping to find the +means to study there. They hadn't passed Sandy Hook, however, before he +became violently seasick, and lay in his berth like a log for +twenty-four hours. On the second night it became so stiflingly hot in +his cabin that he felt he must get to the deck for air or die. + +"So he struggled out and up the companionway, somehow, meeting no one, +for it was very late. On the deck he crawled in behind a life-boat, and +lay in a rather unprotected outer portion of the deck, so sick that he +scarcely knew where he was or how dangerous was the spot he had chosen. +All of a sudden the vessel gave an unusually heavy lurch, and before he +could clutch for any hold he was catapulted into the sea. + +"Curiously enough, the sudden ducking dispelled his horrible sickness, +and when he came to the surface he found himself striking out to swim. +Useless to shout for help from the great steamer, which had already +passed a boat's length beyond him. But he was a strong swimmer, the +night was warm, and he resolved not to give up till he _had_ to. + +"All night, till dawn, he managed to keep on the surface, swimming and +floating. And at daylight a sailing-vessel picked him up, numb and +weary, and ready to go to the bottom at the next stroke. The ship on +which he found himself was bound for China, and of course he had to 'tag +along,' working his passage as a common sailor in return for his keep. +It was then, I suspect, that he made up his mind to change his name. I +think, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Archibald Ferris and Sydney +Benedict are one and the same person!" + +At this Aunt Minerva, who hadn't spoken a word since her speech of +introduction, put on her glasses and swept the assembly with a +triumphant gaze. The girls and Captain Brett were so absorbed that they +could not utter a syllable, and Miss Benedict sat back in her chair in a +stunned silence. + +Only Cecily seemed unconscious enough of the strain to do the natural +thing. She rose from her chair and went over to Miss Benedict, dropping +down on her knees beside her, and snuggling her head on the older +woman's shoulder with a confiding movement. + +"I'm Cecily _Benedict_ now," she said simply, "and I--I love you--Aunt +Alixe! I'm glad there _was_ a good reason why I was sent over here to +you!" + +Miss Benedict looked down at the golden head, and the terrible tension +in her face relaxed. + +"Sydney's child!--my little Cecily!" they heard her murmur. + +But they heard no more, for at this point, Aunt Minerva arose and +majestically motioned the entire company out of the room! + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +SIX MONTHS LATER + + + JANET DEAR: + + I know you think I'm a wretch not to have written in so long! but + honestly, things have been happening so fast that I don't have + time to sit down and write you about one event before a brand-new + one has taken place. + + I've missed you horribly ever since you went back to Northam. It + was a shame that you had to leave just after the grand clear-up of + our mystery, for you've been missing some of the most wonderful + parts--all the lovely things that have happened since. + + I think I've already written you about some of the changes that + have taken place in "Benedict's Folly." It's the most remarkable + thing--the way Aunt Minerva has taken that place--Miss Benedict + and all--completely under her wing! Miss Benedict (who, by the + way, wants us both to call her Miss Alixe) seemed completely + helpless for a while after the "great day," and turned to Aunt + Minerva for pretty nearly everything,--principally advice! You can + imagine how Aunt Minerva is enjoying herself! She just loves + nothing better than managing people's affairs for them--if they + want her to! + + In the first place, Aunt Minerva advised her to get the house into + livable condition, and find suitable servants, and get some modern + clothes. And as poor Miss Alixe acted like a lost kitten in going + about it, Aunt Minerva just took hold and managed the whole thing. + And you'd never recognize our dilapidated old house of mystery + now, it's so changed and so lovely. Miss Alixe has decided that + now there is no further reason for her not using their large + fortune, and everything must be the nicest possible--for Cecily's + sake. + + And Cecily!--what a darling she is! Of course we are simply + inseparable. She has even begun to go to the high school with me, + because Miss Alixe _and_ Aunt Minerva have decided that it will be + better for her than studying with a private tutor. She is the + happiest thing I ever saw, and says she feels as if she were + living in a fairy-story all the time! We are just longing for the + Easter vacation to come, and your visit. Then we three can be + together again in the good old way. Won't it be glorious? + + But this is all aside from the other two big pieces of news I + wanted to tell you. Almost from the beginning Aunt Minerva has + been urging Miss Alixe to go to a first-class oculist and have her + eyes examined. And at last, a few weeks ago, they went together, + and what do you suppose is the result? He said that almost without + a doubt her sight can be restored, with proper treatment and + possibly a slight operation later. She began the treatment at + once, and already her sight is much improved. She can stand a + stronger light, and has those awful headaches less frequently. You + see, it was years since she had had any advice about them, and + they've made great strides in treatment of the eyes since then. + They can almost do the impossible. We are all so happy about it! + + And now for the last and biggest piece of news! Perhaps you are + wondering what has become of Miss Alixe's mysterious and invisible + older sister, and it is about her that I'm going to tell you. You + will never in the world be able to guess what has happened. + + Aunt Minerva insisted (again Aunt Minerva) that Miss Alixe must + have one of the big alienists (that's what they call specialists + in mental diseases, I've learned) see Miss Cornelia, the sister, + and perhaps he could tell whether anything could be done for + _her_. It took a long time to persuade Miss Alixe that there was + any use in doing this, but at last she consented. I think she has + always been very sensitive about that poor sister's losing her + mind, and she never wanted any one to see her. Even after she had + a number of servants in the house, she wouldn't let any one wait + on Miss Cornelia but herself. + + Well, the great doctor came and was there for hours and asked a + terrific lot of questions--all about everything that had happened + for years and years. He learned one thing that interested him + more than anything else, he said. Do you remember the day last + summer when we were there, sitting in the garden, and I played on + my violin--how Miss Alixe came down in a great hurry and asked me + to stop because it disturbed her sister? You may remember, too, + that I was playing "Traeumerei"--had played it twice? Well, she + told the doctor that when Miss Cornelia heard that, she acted very + much excited, cried, and twisted her hands and tried to speak. + (She hasn't spoken an intelligible word since she had the + "stroke.") Miss Alixe also told him how their favorite brother had + played so much on the violin, particularly that same air. + + He said this was a most hopeful sign--it indicated that conditions + were now such that there was a possibility of her reason and + memory and even speech being restored, provided they could touch + just the right note of association. + + After he had thought the matter over a long time he decided to try + an experiment. And he selected me--little, insignificant _me_--to + help! He had me come in and bring my violin and sit in the room + with Miss Cornelia, a little behind her, so she would not notice + me particularly. Then he had Miss Alixe and Cecily also sitting + there in plain sight of her, just quietly sewing or reading and + not paying any particular attention to any one. He and Aunt + Minerva stayed outside, watching through the partly opened door. + + It was the first time I had ever seen Miss Cornelia (except that + time when the shutter blew open), and, Janet, she is _magnificent_ + looking--entirely different from what I had imagined! She is large + and stately and imposing, with white hair like Miss Alixe's, piled + under a lace cap, and great black eyes. She just sat there quietly + knitting, and took no notice of any one. You would not have known + that there was anything the matter with her, except that her face + was almost expressionless--as if she wasn't thinking of anything + at all. I can't describe it any other way. + + Well, there we sat, and at a given signal from the doctor outside + the door I was to begin--very, very quietly and softly--to play + the "Traeumerei." You can just imagine how nervous I was--so much + depended on my doing just the right thing! My hands shook, and my + knees shook, and my heart thumped, and I thought I should never be + able even to hold the bow. It seemed an age before the doctor + raised his hand as a signal, but when he did I tucked the violin + under my chin and fairly prayed that I shouldn't make a failure of + my part, anyway! + + And I played the "Traeumerei" through, the very best I could--and + nothing happened. Miss Cornelia went right on knitting and never + noticed it at all. Then the doctor made another signal, and I + began it again. This time she laid down her knitting, closed her + eyes, and leaned her head against the back of the chair. And when + I'd finished for the second time, what _do_ you suppose happened? + + She opened her eyes, looked over at Miss Alixe, and _spoke_, for + the first time in nearly thirty years! And this is what she said, + as simply and quietly as though all those thirty years had never + elapsed: + + [Illustration: "Sydney must have come in again; I hear him + practising!"] + + "Sydney must have come in again; I hear him practising!" + + Miss Alixe was so startled she looked ready to faint away. But she + managed to say, "No, Cornelia, but I'll tell you all about it." + Then the doctor in great excitement beckoned us all to come out of + the room quickly and leave her alone with Miss Alixe. So we + vanished, and the two were there together a long, long time. At + last Miss Alixe sent for Cecily, and she was gone a long time, + too. + + When it was all over, the doctor said it was the most successful + thing that had ever happened in all his experience. Miss Cornelia + is completely restored to memory and speech. And after the first + shock of learning all that had been blank to her for these past + years, she rallied well, and is now resting and recuperating under + the care of Miss Alixe and a trained nurse. She still finds it + very hard to realize all the changes that have happened in those + thirty years, and she grieves a great deal over the death of her + brother, which seems very recent and terrible to her. But she is + simply devoted to Cecily, and Cecily is growing almost as fond of + _her_ as she is of Miss Alixe. Next summer the whole family is + going with us to spend two months in Northam (Aunt Minerva's + doings again!) because it is so lovely and restful there. And + won't we have a wonderful summer together, Janet dear? I can + hardly wait for the time to come! + + Well, that is all the news I have to tell, and I guess you'll + agree with me that it certainly is enough--and very satisfying! + + One thing amuses me to pieces, Janet, every time I think of it. Do + you remember how, when you first came to visit us last summer, I + was explaining to you all I'd discovered about "Benedict's Folly" + and flattering myself with the idea that I, or, rather, you and I, + would work out the puzzle and solve the mystery--all by ourselves? + + What little geese we were! A lot we _did_ toward unraveling any of + that tangle! Even father and Major Goodrich were way off the + track. It took Aunt Minerva (the darling!) to walk right in and + clear the whole thing up! Here's "Hurrah!" then, for Aunt Minerva! + She certainly had the laugh on _us_! + + However, I sometimes console myself with the thought that it was + we (you and I) who first took an interest in that shuttered old + house in the garden. If we hadn't--who knows?--we would probably + never have met Cecily, and things would be just the same as ever + there, and Miss Alixe wouldn't have-- + + But what's the use of going into all that! The "girl next door" is + our own dearest friend now, and everything is all right. + + I just looked out of the window and saw a light in Cecily's room. + She's also writing to you to-night. We promised each other we both + would. I'm growing sleepy now, so good-night and heaps of love. + + MARCIA. + February 28, 1913. + + P. S. Did I tell you this before, I wonder? Cecily has both the + bracelets now. Aunt Minerva, of course insisted that she should. + She has put them safely away and will never part with them again. + But we take them out and look at them sometimes and think of all + the strange and awful adventures they've been through and the + curious chance that brought them together again. + + Always, after we've looked at them, Cecily asks me to play the + "Traeumerei." And while I play, she sits very quietly and says + nothing, and her eyes have a far-away look. But I know what she is + thinking about! + + M. + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Girl Next Door, by Augusta Huiell Seaman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIRL NEXT DOOR *** + +***** This file should be named 39896.txt or 39896.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/8/9/39896/ + +Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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