The girl next door, p.1
The Girl Next Door,
p.1
Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced fromscanned images of public domain material from the GooglePrint archive.
Book Cover]
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the houseopposite]
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
BYAUGUSTA HUIELL SEAMAN
Author of "The Sapphire Signet," "TheBoarded-Up House," etc.
ILLUSTRATED BYC. M. RELYEA
NEW YORKTHE CENTURY CO.
Copyright, 1917, byTHE CENTURY CO.
TOHOA-SIAN-SIN-NIU(Margaret Gillespie Fagg)
AND TO THE MEMORY OFHOA-SIAN-SIN(John Gerardus Fagg, D.D.)
THIS BOOK ISAFFECTIONATELYDEDICATED
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I MARCIA'S SECRET 3 II THE FACE BEHIND THE SHUTTER 20 III THE GATE OPENS 32 IV THE BACKWARD GLANCE 43 V THE HANDKERCHIEF IN THE WINDOW 54 VI CECILY REVEALS HERSELF 62 VII SURPRISES ALL AROUND 72 VIII AT THE END OF THE STRING 81 IX FOR THE SAKE OF CECILY 94 X THE FILIGREE BRACELET 111 XI THE LIFTED VEIL 119 XII MISS BENEDICT SPEAKS 129 XIII VIA WIRELESS 141 XIV THE WRITING ON THE BRACELETS 149 XV PUZZLING IT OUT 160 XVI ONE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 170 XVII MAJOR GOODRICH ASSISTS 183 XVIII THE MAJOR HAS A FURTHER INSPIRATION 192 XIX THE UNEXPECTED 206 XX AUNT MINERVA TAKES COMMAND 227 XXI SIX MONTHS LATER 251
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house opposite _Frontispiece_ Cecily Marlowe passed them by without a look 49 They heard Cecily's light footsteps 83 "I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these shutters," cried Janet, suddenly 105 In the sudden light of the open door she stood revealed 125 "Words on two bracelets are identical," replied Lee Ching, precisely 157 "Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life I lead" 171 "Sydney must have come in again; I hear him practising!" 257
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
CHAPTER I
MARCIA'S SECRET
"Marcia Brett, do you mean to tell me--"
"Tell you--what?"
"That you've had a secret two whole months and never told me about ityet? And I'm your _best_ friend!"
"I was waiting till you came to the city, Janet. I wanted to _tell_ you;I didn't want to _write_ it."
"Well, I've been in the city twelve hours, and you never said a wordabout it till just now."
"But, Janet, we've been sight-seeing ever since you arrived. You can'tvery well tell secrets when you're sight-seeing, you know!"
"Well, you might have given me a hint about it long ago. You know we'vesolemnly promised never to have any secrets from each other, and yetyou've had one _two whole months_?"
"No, Jan, I haven't had it quite as long as that. Honest! It didn'tbegin till quite a while after I came; in fact, not till about three orfour weeks ago."
"Tell me all about it right away, then, and perhaps I'll forgive you!"
The two girls cuddled up close to each other on the low couch by theopen window and lowered their voices to a whisper. Through the warmdarkness of the June night came the hum of a great city, a subdued,murmurous sound, strangely unfamiliar to one of the girls, who was inthe city for the first time in all her country life. To the other thesound had some time since become an accustomed one. As they leaned theirelbows on the sill and, chins in hand, stared out into the darkness,Marcia began:
"Well, Jan, I might as well commence at the beginning, so you'llunderstand how it all happened. I've been just crazy to tell you, butI'm not good at letter-writing, and there's such a lot to explain that Ithought I'd wait till your visit.
"You know, when we first moved to this apartment, last April, from 'wayback in Northam, I was all excitement for a while just to be living inthe city. Everything was _so_ different. Really, I acted so _silly_--youwouldn't believe it! I used to run down to the front door half a dozentimes a day, just to push the bell and see the door open all by itself!It seemed like something in a fairy-story. And for the longest while Icouldn't get used to the dumb-waiter or the steam-heat or the electriclights, and all that sort of thing. It _is_ awfully different from ourold-fashioned little Northam--now isn't it?"
"Yes, I feel just that way this minute," admitted Janet.
"And then, too," went on Marcia, "there were all the things outside todo and see--the trolleys and stores and parks and museums and the zoo!Aunt Minerva said I went around 'like a distracted chicken' for a while!And beside that, we used to have the greatest fun shopping for newfurniture and things for this apartment. Hardly a bit of that big oldfurniture we brought with us would fit into it, these rooms are so muchsmaller than the ones in our old farm-house.
"Well, anyhow, for a while I was too busy and interested and excited tothink of another thing--"
"Yes, too busy to even write to _me_!" interrupted Janet. "I had aboutone letter in two weeks from you, those days. And you'd _promised_ towrite every other day!"
"Oh well, never mind that now! You'd have done the same, I guess. If youdon't let me go on, I'll never get to the _secret_! After a while,though, I got used to all the new things, and I'd seen all the sights,and Aunt Minerva had finished all the furnishing except the curtains anddraperies (she's at that, yet!), and all of a sudden everything fellflat. I hadn't begun my music-lessons, and there didn't seem to be athing to do, or a single interest in life.
"The truth is, Jan, I was frightfully lonesome--for _you_!" Here Marciafelt her hand squeezed in the darkness. "Perhaps you don't realize it,but living in an apartment in a big city is the _queerest_ thing! Youdon't know your neighbor that lives right across the hall. You don'tknow a soul in the house. And as far as I can see, you're not likely toif you lived here fifty years! Nobody calls on you as they do on a newfamily in the country. Nobody seems to care a rap who you are, orwhether you live or die, or anything. And would you believe it, Janet,there isn't another girl in this whole apartment, either older oryounger than myself! No one but grown-ups.
"So you can see how awfully lonesome I've been. And as Aunt Minerva haddecided not to send me to high school till fall, I didn't have a chanceto get acquainted with any one of my own age. Actually, it got so Ididn't do much else but moon around and mark off the days till school inNortham closed and you could come. And, oh, I'm _so_ glad you're herefor the summer! Isn't it gorgeous!" She hugged her chum spasmodically.
"But to go on. I'm telling you all this so you can see what led up to mydoing what I did about--the _secret_. It began one awfully rainyafternoon last month. I'd been for a walk in the wet, just for exercise,and when I came in, Aunt Minerva was out shopping. I hadn't a new bookto read nor a blessed thing to do, so I sat down right here by thewindow and got to thinking and wondering _why_ things were so unevenlydivided--why you, Jan, should have a mother and father and a big, jollylot of brothers and sisters, and I should be just _one_, all alone,living with Aunt Minerva (though she's lovely to me), with no mother,and a father away nearly all the time on his ship.
"And it seemed as if I just hated this apartment, with its little rooms,like cubbyholes, all in a row. I longed to be back in Northam. Andlooking out of the window, I even thought I'd give anything to live inthat big, rambling, dingy, old place next door, beyond the brick wall,for at least one could go up and down _stairs_ to the different rooms.
"And then, if you'll believe me, Jan, as I stared at that house itbegan to dawn on me that I'd never really 'taken it in' before--that itwas a very strange-looking old place. And because I didn't have anothermortal thing to do, I just sat and stared at it as if I'd never seen itbefore, and began to wonder and wonder about it. For there were a numberof things about it that seemed decidedly _queer_."
"What's it like, anyway?" questioned Janet. "There were so many otherthings to see to-day that I didn't notice it at all. And it's so darknow I can't see a thing."
"Why, it's a big, square, four-story brick house, and it's terribly inneed of paint. Looks as if it hadn't had a coat in years and years. Itstands 'way back from the street, in a sort of ragged, weedy garden, andthere's a high brick wall around the whole place, except for a heavywooden gate at the front covered with ironwork. That gate is alwaysclosed. A stone walk runs from the gate to the front door. 'Way back atthe rear of the garden is an old brick stable that looks as if it hadn'tbeen opened or used in years.
"You'll see all this yourself, Janet, when you look out of the window inthe morning. For this apartment-house runs
"But the queer thing about it is that, though the shutters are alltightly closed or bowed,--every one!--and the whole place looksdeserted, it really _isn't_! There's some one living in it; and once ina long while you happen to see signs of it. For instance, that veryafternoon I saw this: 'most all the shutters are tightly closed, but onthe second floor they are usually just bowed. And that day the slats inone of them were open, and I thought I could see a muslin curtainflapping behind it. But while I was looking, the fingers of a handsuddenly appeared between the slats and snapped them shut with a jerk.
"Of course, there's nothing so awfully strange about a thing like that,_as a rule_, but somehow the way it was done seemed _mysterious_. Ican't explain just why. Anyhow, as I hadn't anything else to do, Iconcluded I'd sit there for a while longer and see if something elsewould happen. But nothing did--not for nearly an hour; and I was gettingtired of the thing and just going to get up and go away _when_--"
"_What?_" breathed Janet, in an excited whisper.
"The big front door opened (it was nearly dark by that time) and outcrept the queerest little figure! It appeared to be a little old womanall dressed in dingy black clothes that looked as if they must have comeout of the ark, they were so old-fashioned! Her hat was a queer littlebonnet, with no trimming except a heavy black veil that came down overher face. She had a small market-basket on her arm, and a big oldumbrella.
"But the queerest thing was the way she scuttled down the path to thegate, like a frightened rabbit, turning her head from side to side, asif she was afraid of being seen or watched. When she got to the gate,she had to put down her basket and umbrella and use both hands tounlock it with a huge key. When she got outside of it, on the street,she shut the gate behind her, and of course I couldn't see her any more.
"Well, it set me to wondering and wondering what the story of that queerold house and queer little old lady could be. It seemed as if there_must_ be some story about it, or some explanation; for, you see, it's abig place, and evidently at one time must have been very handsome. Andit stands right here in one of the busiest and most valuable parts ofthe city.
"The more I thought of it, the more curious I grew. But the worst of itwas that I didn't know a soul who could tell me the least thing aboutit. Aunt Minerva couldn't, of course, and I wasn't acquainted withanother person in the city. It just seemed as if I _must_ find someexplanation. Then, all of a sudden, I thought of our new colored maid.Perhaps she might have heard something about it. I made up my mind I'dgo right out to the kitchen. So I went and started her talking aboutthings in general and finally asked her if she knew anything about thatold house. And _then_--I wish you could have heard her! I can't tell itall the way she did, but this is the substance of it:
"It seems that she's discovered that the janitor here is the son of anold friend from North Carolina. Of course she's been talking to him alot, and he has told her all about the whole neighborhood, andespecially about the queer old house next door. He says it's known allaround here as 'Benedict's Folly.'"
"Why?" queried Janet.
"Well, because years and years ago, when the owner built it (his namewas Benedict), it was 'way out of the city limits, and everybody thoughthe was awfully foolish, going so far, and building a handsome city houseoff in the wilderness. But he wasn't so foolish after all, for the citycame right up and surrounded him in the end, and the property is worthno end of money now.
"But here's the queer thing about it. Old Mr. Benedict's been dead manyyears, and the place looks as if no one lived there--but _some onedoes_! It's a daughter of his, a queer little old lady, who keepsherself shut up there all the time; some think she's alone, others sayno, that some one else is there with her. No one seems to knowdefinitely. Anyhow, although she is very wealthy, she does all the workherself, and the marketing; and she even carries home all the things,and won't allow a single one of the tradesmen to come in.
"Mr. Simmonds (that's our janitor) says that two years ago, in thewinter, a water-pipe there burst, and Miss Benedict just _had_ to get aplumber; and he afterward told awfully peculiar things about the way thehouse looked,--the furniture all draped and covered up, and even thepictures on the walls covered, too,--and not a single modern improvementexcept the running water and some old-fashioned gas-fixtures. And thelittle old lady never raised her veil while he was there, so he couldn'tsee what she looked like.
"Mr. Simmonds says every one thinks there is some great mystery about'Benedict's Folly,' but no one seems to be able to guess what it canbe. Now, Janet, isn't that just fascinating? Think of living next doorto a mystery!"
"It's simply thrilling!" sighed Janet. "But, Marcia, I still don't seewhat this has to do with a _secret_. Where do _you_ come in? I don't seewhy you couldn't have written all this to me."
"Wait!" said Marcia. "I haven't finished yet. That was absolutely all Icould get out of our maid Eliza, all she or any one else knew, in fact.But as you can imagine, I couldn't get the thing out of my mind, and Icouldn't stop looking at the old place, either. I tried to talk to AuntMinerva about it, but she wasn't a bit interested. Said she couldn'tunderstand how any one could keep house in that slovenly fashion, andthat's all she would say. So I gave up trying to interest _her_.
"Now, I must tell you the odd thing that happened that very night. Youknow I've said it was raining hard all that day, and by ten o'clock thewind was blowing a gale. I was just ready for bed, and had turned offmy light and raised the shade, when I thought I'd take another peep atmy mysterious mansion across the fence. All I could see, however, werejust some streaks of light through the chinks in the shutters in thatone room on the second floor. All the rest of the place was as dark as apocket. And as I sat staring out, it suddenly came to me what fun itwould be to try to unravel the whole mysterious affair all by myself. Itwould certainly help me to pass the dull days till you came!
"But then, too, the only way to do it would be to watch this old placelike a cat, and I knew _that_ wouldn't be right. It would be too muchlike spying into your neighbor's affairs, and, of course, that's horrid.Finally, I concluded, that if I could do it without being meddlesome orprying, I'd just watch the place a _little_ and see if anythinginteresting would happen. And while I was thinking this, a strange thing_did_ happen--that very minute!
"The wind had grown terrific, and, all of a sudden, it just took one ofthe shutters of that lighted room, and ripped it from its fastening,and threw it back against the wall. And the next moment a figure hurriedto the window, leaned out, and drew the shutter back in place again. Butjust for one instant I had caught a glimpse of the whole inside of theroom! And what do you suppose I saw, Jan?"
"_What?_" demanded Janet.
"Well, not much of the furnishing, except a lighted oil-lamp on a table.But, directly in the center of the room, in a perfectly enormousarmchair sat--a woman! And it wasn't the one I'd seen in the afternoon,either. I'm sure of that. I couldn't see her face, for it was in shadow,but she was looking down at something spread out on her lap. And sheheld her right hand over it in the air and waved it back and forth, sortof uncertainly. You can't imagine what a strange picture it was--andthen the shutter was closed. There was something so _weird_ about itall.
"If I was curious before, I was simply _wild_ with interest then. Itseemed as if I _must_ know what it all meant--what that strange old ladycould be doing, sitting there in state in the middle of the room, andall the rest of it. You don't blame me, do you, Jan?"
"Indeed I don't! I'd be ten times worse, I guess. But what about the_secret_? And _did_ you find out anything else?"
"Yes, I did. And that's the secret. The whole mysterious thing is in thesecret, because no one but you knows I'm the least interested in theaffair, and I don't want them to--now! I'll tell you what happenednext."
But just at this moment they were interrupted by a knock at the door,and a voice inquiring:
"Girls, _girls_! haven't you gone to bed yet? I've heard you talking forthe last hour."
"No, Aunt Minerva!" answered Marcia, "we are sitting by the window."
"Well, you must go to bed _at once_! It's nearly midnight. You won'teither of you be fit for a thing to-morrow. Now, mind, not another word!Good-night!"
"Good-night!" they both answered, but heaved a sigh when Aunt Minervawas out of hearing.
"It's no use!" whispered Marcia. "We'll have to stop for to-night. Butthere's lots more, and the _most_ interesting part of it, too. Well,never mind, I'll tell you all the rest to-morrow!"
