The Girl Next Door
Page 7
CHAPTER VII
SURPRISES ALL AROUND
"How long have you been in New York?" began Janet, when at last theyemerged from the little shop.
"About two months," said Cecily. "And I've lived in that place all thistime, and have not known why. Miss Benedict has never explained. Sheacts toward me as if I were a lodger, or--or some one she allowed tostay there for reasons of her own, but didn't particularly want to haveabout. She's kind to me, but never--friendly. Sometimes she looks at mein the strangest way--I can't imagine what she's thinking about. But whydoes 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 andgloomy! There is lovely furniture in the drawing-room, but it is allcovered over with some brown stuff--even the pictures. And most of theother rooms are not used at all--nothing on the ground floor. I eat downin the basement, and my bedroom is on the top floor--where I looked outthat time. I have never been in any of the other bedrooms except MissBenedict'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 heavyon 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 andnever used. The rest of the time I sit in my room and read the few booksI brought with me, and tell myself long stories, or listen to yourmusic. I dare not now even peep through the shutters. Once I openedthem, when you were playing, but Miss Benedict came in just then andforbade me to do it again."
"Doesn't she ever let you go out and take a walk or get a littleexercise?" questioned Marcia.
"No, the only times I have gone out have been just lately, when herankle has been so bad. At night, after it is dark, she lets me run aboutthe 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 tome--all about meeting you, and how lovely you were to me. I thoughtshe'd be so glad I'd found such nice friends. But she looked soqueer--almost frightened, and she said: 'You must not speak to themagain. It was kind of them to help you, but you must not encourage themin any way. Remember, child!' And I was only trying to obey her when Ipassed 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 andplain?"
"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 broughtmy box into the hall (she wouldn't let him take it any farther), and shehad shut the door behind him and we were left alone, she seemed to--tohesitate, but at last she raised her hands and took off her bonnet andveil. I don't know what I expected, but I was surprised to see such alovely face. Her hair is gray, almost white, and so soft and wavy. Andyet she has rosy cheeks, and white teeth, and the most beautiful biggray eyes. And her voice is very sweet, too. Do you know, I believe ifshe'd only _let_ me, I could just love her, but she holds me off as ifshe 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 littleblack-robed and veiled figure that they knew as Miss Benedict. The voicealone tallied, and Marcia recounted how she had once met Miss Benedictin the little grocery-shop. Suddenly, however, she was struck by a newthought, and demanded:
"But how about the other one?"
Cecily opened her eyes wide. "Other one?" she queried. "Oh, you mean theother person in the house?"
"Why, yes," said Marcia. "The other old lady who sits in the room on thesecond 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 Benedicthas always warned me to be very quiet in going by that door, becausesome one was ill in there. But she never told me who it was, noranything more about her. She always waits on her herself. Even when herankle was hurting her so, she would drag herself out of bed many times aday to go into that room. But tell me, how did _you_ know there was anold lady in there?"
Then Marcia recounted what she had seen on the night the wind tore openthe shutter. "How strange this all is," she ended, "that Miss Benedictshould never tell you who this person is! Why do you suppose she iskeeping it a secret?"
As this was a problem none of them could solve, they could onlyconjecture vainly about it as they walked along. But by this time theyhad approached within a block of the house itself, and before theyturned the corner once more they all unconsciously halted.
"Cecily," said Marcia, suddenly inspired with a bright idea. "I have thegrandest scheme! If Miss Benedict is going to do the marketing afterthis, perhaps we won't see you again for some time. But I've a plan bywhich we can _hear_ from each other as often as we like. You take a walkin the garden every night, don't you?"
"No, not always," answered Cecily. "Miss Benedict allows me to, butoften 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 tohave a long string with a weight attached to it, and fasten it in thewindow. Every night, after dark, we'll write a note to you, fasten it tothe string, and drop it down into the garden among the bushes. You canfind it in the dark by feeling for the string, and if you have onewritten to us, you can fasten it on, and we'll pull it up. Isn't that adandy 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 MissBenedict 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 whyshould she object to three girls sending little notes to one another? Itwould be cruel to forbid that. It isn't really wrong, you know."
"But she isn't cruel to me," Cecily interrupted. "You mustn't thinkthat. She--well, somehow, I feel she _would_ be nice to me, onlysomething is holding her back. She isn't a bit cruel. I sometimes feelas if I could care for her in spite of everything. So I don't want to goagainst 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'tanswer at all--needn't even read them, if you don't want to. But we'llwrite, nevertheless, and you can't prevent it!"
When Cecily smiled, her face lit up as if touched by a shaft ofsunlight. And she smiled now.
"I don't believe I _ought_ to read them," she said; "but, oh! it wouldkeep me from being so very lonely. But I must be going back now. I'vebeen longer than usual. Good-by!"
Cecily was still smiling as she turned away, while Janet and Marciastood looking after her, waving farewell to her as she rounded thecorner.