"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."