"No, the only times I have gone out have been just lately, when her ankle has been so bad. At night, after it is dark, she lets me run about the 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 to me--all about meeting you, and how lovely you were to me. I thought she'd be so glad I'd found such nice friends. But she looked so queer--almost frightened, and she said: 'You must not speak to them again. It was kind of them to help you, but you must not encourage them in any way. Remember, child!' And I was only trying to obey her when I passed 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 and plain?" "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 brought my box into the hall (she wouldn't let him take it any farther), and she had shut the door behind him and we were left alone, she seemed to--to hesitate, but at last she raised her hands and took off her bonnet and veil. I don't know what I expected, but I was surprised to see such a lovely face. Her hair is gray, almost white, and so soft and wavy. And yet she has rosy cheeks, and white teeth, and the most beautiful big gray eyes. And her voice is very sweet, too. Do you know, I believe if she'd only _let_ me, I could just love her, but she holds me off as if she 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 little black-robed and veiled figure that they knew as Miss Benedict. The voice alone tallied, and Marcia recounted how she had once met Miss Benedict in the little grocery-shop. Suddenly, however, she was struck by a new thought, and demanded: "But how about the other one?" Cecily opened her eyes wide. "Other one?" she queried. "Oh, you mean the other person in the house?" "Why, yes," said Marcia. "The other old lady who sits in the room on the second 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 Benedict has always warned me to be very quiet in going by that door, because some one was ill in there. But she never told me who it was, nor anything more about her. She always waits on her herself. Even when her ankle was hurting her so, she would drag herself out of bed many times a day to go into that room. But tell me, how did _you_ know there was an old lady in there?"