CHAPTER II
THE FACE BEHIND THE SHUTTER
Janet had no sooner hopped out of bed next morning than she flew to thewindow to examine "Benedict's Folly" by broad daylight. In the streamingsun of a June morning the dingy old mansion certainly bore out the truthof Marcia's mysterious description.
"Gracious! I should think you would have been interested in it from thefirst!" she exclaimed.
"Interested in what?" yawned Marcia, sleepily, opening her eyes.
"'Benedict's Folly,' of course! Let's see," went on Janet, who possesseda very practical, orderly mind; "from your story last night it seemsthere 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 shutterblew open?"
"Why, for several reasons," answered Marcia. "In the first place, theone who goes out is short and slight. The one sitting in the chair wasevidently large, and rather stout, and--and different, somehow, althoughI didn't see either of their faces. And then, it wasn't the lady in thechair 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 nobodyseems to know about the second one. I wonder who she is? And are thereany more? Go on with your story, Marcia."
"No," said Marcia. "Wait till we can be by ourselves for a long while. Idon't want to be interrupted. Aunt Minerva's going out this morning, andthen we'll have a chance."
So, later in the morning, the two girls sat by Marcia's window, eachoccupied with a dainty bit of embroidery, and Marcia began anew:
"Well, after that rainy night, for several days I didn't see a thingmore that was interesting about the old house or the queer people wholive in it. I used to watch once in a while to see if the little lady inblack would go out again in the afternoon, as she did before, but shedidn't. Then, a day or two later, I did something that surprised evenmyself, for I hadn't the faintest _intention_ of doing it. I had beentaking a walk that afternoon and was just coming home, passing on theway the high brick wall of the Benedict house. It was just as I reachedthe closed gate that an idea popped into my head.
"You know, they say that no visitors are ever admitted, and no rings orknocks at the gate are ever answered. Well, something suddenly promptedme to ring that bell and see what would happen. I never stopped to askmyself what I should say if some one came and inquired what I wanted. Ijust rang it suddenly (and I had to pull hard, the old thing was sorusty) 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 onedid really come. But I needn't have worried, for what do you supposehappened?"
"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 thewalk behind the gate. _But_, instead of coming _toward_ the gate, theywere hurrying _away_ from it; and in another minute I heard the frontdoor close. After that it was all quiet, and nothing else happened. ThenI went on home."
"I know," interrupted Janet, whose quick mind had already worked out theproblem, "exactly what occurred. It was Miss Benedict, who had been justabout to come out on her way to do the marketing. And your ringfrightened her, and sent her hurrying back into the house. _Isn't_ itall singular!"
"Yes, that must have been it," agreed Marcia. "And it made me morecurious than ever to understand about it. And I was so annoyed at myselffor ringing at all. If I hadn't, I might have seen Miss Benedict closeby, when she came out of the gate. It served me right for doing such athing, anyhow!
"But after that I got to watching, every time I went out, thinking Imight see her on the street somewhere, especially if it was about thetime she usually did her marketing--along toward dusk. Several dayspassed, however, and I never did. I _had_ thought of watching from mywindow to see when she went out, and then following her. But that didn'tseem right, somehow. It would be too much like spying on her. So I justconcluded 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 wereall out of oatmeal for breakfast, and I promised her I'd get some veryearly in the morning, when I went to take my walk. You know, I've foundthat on these warm summer days in the city it's much pleasanter to takea 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 theearly morning, up in Northam.
"Well, anyhow, I got up that day about six. I knew that no stores nearhere would be open so early, and I decided to walk over toward the otherside of town. It's a sort of poor section there, and the stores oftenopen up quite early, so that folks can do their marketing before they goto work. It was a beautiful, cool morning, and I was quite enjoyingmyself when--Jan, _what_ do you think?--I looked up, and about half ablock 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 mindI'd keep behind her, and go into the same store she did. There couldsurely be no harm in _that_! And by and by I saw her turn into a littlegrocery-shop; and a minute or two after in I walked, went to thecounter, and stood right near her. There was no one in the store besideourselves and the grocer. He looked sleepy, and was yawning while hewrapped 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 aperfect right to stand close by my mysterious little neighbor and hearher speak.
"And it was right there, Janet, that I got the surprise of my life. Shestill wore her black veil, and it was so thick that not a bit of herface could be seen. Her dress was the most old-fashioned thing--itlooked twenty years old, if not more. I don't know what sort of a voiceI 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, andflute-like, and so--so _appealing_! It somehow went straight to myheart. 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 suchcommonplace things as butter and eggs and sugar, it was like--like_music_!
"Well, in a few moments she had finished, and the grocer packed herthings in her basket, and she went away. I had to stay, of course, andget my oatmeal, and I didn't see her again. But being so close to herand hearing that lovely voice had changed my whole feeling about her. Atfirst, I had just been interested and awfully _curious_ about the wholemysterious affair, and, I'll confess, just a wee bit repelled by theaccount of the queer little lady and the strange way she lived. I wantedto know the explanation of the mystery, but I didn't particularly wantto know _her_. But after that, I felt different,--sort of bewitched bythat 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 youunderstand, 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 thelight, but it was very dark outside. Presently I heard footsteps in theBenedict garden. They were light, quick footsteps, and sounded exactlyas if some one were running about, or skipping and jumping. First Ithought it must be a big dog, for it couldn't possibly have been eitherone of those two old ladies, running and skipping that way! And then Iheard a soft humming, as if some one were singing a tune half under thebreath. And then, very soon after, a door opened, and a voice calledout, very softly, 'Come in, now!' And after that all was quiet. Now,Janet McNeil, I'm simply positive there's _some o
ne else_ in that housebeside the two old ladies,--some one who hasn't been seen yet. What doyou make of it?"
"You must be right," replied Janet, thoughtfully. "It _couldn't_ beeither of them running about in the garden in the dark and humming atune. It isn't at all what they'd be likely to do. I think it must besome 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 ifthey 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 theriddle. 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 theprincipal things you folks moved to the city for,--so that you couldstudy with the best teachers."
"Yes, I've begun with Professor Hardwick," said Marcia, "and I'vepractised quite hard lately. It's about all I had to do. He says I'vemade some progress already."
"Oh, _do_ get your violin and play some for me!" begged Janet. "I'mjust starving for some good music. I haven't heard any since you leftNortham."
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 satdown in the window-seat and ran her bow over the strings in a shower ofliquid melody. For one so young she played astonishingly well. Janetlistened, breathless, absorbed.
"Marcia dear, you _have_ improved!" she exclaimed, as her chum stoppedfor a moment. "Now do play my favorite!" Marcia laid her bow on thestrings once more, and slipped into the tender reverie of the"Traeumerei." But before it was half finished, Janet, wide-eyed withastonishment, laid her hand on Marcia's arm.
"Look!" she breathed. Marcia followed the direction of her gaze, andturned to stare out of the window at the house opposite. And this iswhat 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 ofgolden, curling hair falling all about it. Straight over at the two inthe window it gazed, eager, absorbed, delighted. And then suddenly, asit detected their own interested stare, it withdrew, and the shutter wassoftly 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'tan old lady; it's some one just about our own age--it's a young_girl_!"
The Girl Next Door Page 2
