Read Ebook: The Girl Next Door by Seaman Augusta Huiell Relyea C M Charles M Illustrator

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 162 lines and 40409 words, and 4 pages

"Never mind," said Janet. "We'll see her to-morrow, most likely. Perhaps she's busy downstairs now."

"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."

"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.

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!

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--"

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.

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.

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.

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.

"Oh, then--oh, it's all right!" breathed Cecily, in relief. "I was sure you were angry at--at the way--I acted."

"I--I just had to signal for you. I--we are in great trouble--and I don't know what to do."

"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--"

"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--"

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--"

"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."

"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."

"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.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet