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."