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[Illustration: Book Cover]
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
[Illustration: Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house
opposite]
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
BY
AUGUSTA HUIELL SEAMAN
Author of "The Sapphire Signet," "The
Boarded-Up House," etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
C. M. RELYEA
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
THE CENTURY CO.
Copyright, 1917, by
THE CENTURY CO.
TO
HOA-SIAN-SIN-NIU
(Margaret Gillespie Fagg)
AND TO THE MEMORY OF
HOA-SIAN-SIN
(John Gerardus Fagg, D.D.)
THIS BOOK IS
AFFECTIONATELY
DEDICATED
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 it
yet? 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 word
about it till just now."
"But, Janet, we've been sight-seeing ever since you arrived. You can't
very 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've
solemnly promised never to have any secrets from each other, and yet
you've had one _two whole months_?"
"No, Jan, I haven't had it quite as long as that. Honest! It didn't
begin till quite a while after I came; in fact, not till about three or
four 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 the
open window and lowered their voices to a whisper. Through the warm
darkness of the June night came the hum of a great city, a subdued,
murmurous sound, strangely unfamiliar to one of the girls, who was in
the city for the first time in all her country life. To the other the
sound had some time since become an accustomed one. As they leaned their
elbows 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'll
understand how it all happened. I've been just crazy to tell you, but
I'm not good at letter-writing, and there's such a lot to explain that I
thought I'd wait till your visit.
"You know, when we first moved to this apartment, last April, from 'way
back in Northam, I was all excitement for a while just to be living in
the city. Everything was _so_ different. Really, I acted so _silly_--you
wouldn't believe it! I used to run down to the front door half a dozen
times 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 I
couldn't get used to the dumb-waiter or the steam-heat or the electric
lights, and all that sort of thing. It _is_ awfully different from our
old-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 to
do 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 new
furniture and things for this apartment. Hardly a bit of that big old
furniture we brought with us would fit into it, these rooms are so much
smaller than the ones in our old farm-house.
"Well, anyhow, for a while I was too busy and interested and excited to
think of another thing--"
"Yes, too busy to even write to _me_!" interrupted Janet. "I had about
one letter in two weeks from you, those days. And you'd _promised_ to
write every other day!"
"Oh well, never mind that now! You'd have done the same, I guess. If you
don'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 and
draperies (she's at that, yet!), and all of a sudden everything fell
flat. I hadn't begun my music-lessons, and there didn't seem to be a
thing to do, or a single interest in life.
"The truth is, Jan, I was frightfully lonesome--for _you_!" Here Marcia
felt 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! You
don't know your neighbor that lives right across the hall. You don't
know a soul in the house. And as far as I can see, you're not likely to
if you lived here fifty years! Nobody calls on you as they do on a new
family in the country. Nobody seems to care a rap who you are, or
whether you live or die, or anything. And would you believe it, Janet,
there isn't another girl in this whole apartment, either older or
younger than myself! No one but grown-ups.
"So you can see how awfully lonesome I've been. And as Aunt Minerva had
decided not to send me to high school till fall, I didn't have a chance
to get acquainted with any one of my own age. Actually, it got so I
didn't do much else but moon around and mark off the days till school in
Northam closed and you could come. And, oh, I'm _so_ glad you're here
for 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 my
doing what I did about--the _secret_. It began one awfully rainy
afternoon 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 book
to read nor a blessed thing to do, so I sat down right here by the
window and got to thinking and wondering _why_ things were so unevenly
divided--why you, Jan, should have a mother and father and a big, jolly
lot 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. And
looking out of the window, I even thought I'd give anything to live in
that 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 it
began to dawn on me that I'd never really 'taken it in' before--that it
was a very strange-looking old place. And because I didn't have another
mortal thing to do, I just sat and stared at it as if I'd never seen it
before, and began to wonder and wonder about it. For there were a number
of things about it that seemed decidedly _queer_."
"What's it like, anyway?" questioned Janet. "There were so many other
things to see to-day that I didn't notice it at all. And it's so dark
now I can't see a thing."
"Why, it's a big, square, four-story brick house, and it's terribly in
need of paint. Looks as if it hadn't had a coat in years and years. It
stands 'way back from the street, in a sort of ragged, weedy garden, and
there's a high brick wall around the whole place, except for a heavy
wooden gate at the front covered with ironwork. That gate is always
closed. A stone walk runs from the gate to the front door. 'Way back at
the rear of the garden is an old brick stable that looks as if it hadn't
been opened or used in years.
"You'll see all this yourself, Janet, when you look out of the window in
the morning. For this apartment-house runs along close to the brick
wall, and as we're three floors up, you get a good view of the whole
place. This window in my room is the _very_ best place of all to see
it--fortunately.
"But the queer thing about it is that, though the shutters are all
tightly closed or bowed,--every one!--and the whole place looks
deserted, it really _isn't_! There's some one living in it; and once in
a long while you happen to see signs of it. For instance, that very
afternoon I saw this: 'most all the shutters are tightly closed, but on
the second floor they are usually just bowed. And that day the slats in
one of them were open, and I thought I could see a muslin curtain
flapping behind it. But while I was looking, the fingers of a hand
suddenly 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_. I
can't explain just why. Anyhow, as I hadn't anything else to do, I
concluded I'd sit there for a while longer and see if something else
would happen. But nothing did--not for nearly an hour; and I was getting
tired 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 out
crept the queerest little figure! It appeared to be a little old woman
all dressed in dingy black clothes that looked as if they must have come
out of the ark, they were so old-fashioned! Her hat was a queer little
bonnet, with no trimming except a heavy black veil that came down over
her face. She had a small market-basket on her arm, and a big old
umbrella.
"But the queerest thing was the way she scuttled down the path to the
gate, like a frightened rabbit, turning her head from side to side, as
if 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 to
unlock 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 queer
old 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 a
big place, and evidently at one time must have been very handsome. And
it stands right here in one of the busiest and most valuable parts of
the city.
"The more I thought of it, the more curious I grew. But the worst of it
was that I didn't know a soul who could tell me the least thing about
it. Aunt Minerva couldn't, of course, and I wasn't acquainted with
another person in the city. It just seemed as if I _must_ find some
explanation. 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'd
go right out to the kitchen. So I went and started her talking about
things in general and finally asked her if she knew anything about that
old house. And _then_--I wish you could have heard her! I can't tell it
all 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 an
old friend from North Carolina. Of course she's been talking to him a
lot, and he has told her all about the whole neighborhood, and
especially about the queer old house next door. He says it's known all
around here as 'Benedict's Folly.'"
"Why?" queried Janet.
"Well, because years and years ago, when the owner built it (his name
was Benedict), it was 'way out of the city limits, and everybody thought
he was awfully foolish, going so far, and building a handsome city house
off in the wilderness. But he wasn't so foolish after all, for the city
came right up and surrounded him in the end, and the property is worth
no end of money now.
"But here's the queer thing about it. Old Mr. Benedict's been dead many
years, and the place looks as if no one lived there--but _some one
does_! It's a daughter of his, a queer little old lady, who keeps
herself shut up there all the time; some think she's alone, others say
no, that some one else is there with her. No one seems to know
definitely. Anyhow, although she is very wealthy, she does all the work
herself, 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 the
winter, a water-pipe there burst, and Miss Benedict just _had_ to get a
plumber; and he afterward told awfully peculiar things about the way the
house looked,--the furniture all draped and covered up, and even the
pictures on the walls covered, too,--and not a single modern improvement
except the running water and some old-fashioned gas-fixtures. And the
little old lady never raised her veil while he was there, so he couldn't
see 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 can
be. Now, Janet, isn't that just fascinating? Think of living next door
to a mystery!"
"It's simply thrilling!" sighed Janet. "But, Marcia, I still don't see
what this has to do with a _secret_. Where do _you_ come in? I don't see
why you couldn't have written all this to me."
"Wait!" said Marcia. "I haven't finished yet. That was absolutely all I
could 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 I
couldn't stop looking at the old place, either. I tried to talk to Aunt
Minerva about it, but she wasn't a bit interested. Said she couldn't
understand how any one could keep house in that slovenly fashion, and
that'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. You
know I've said it was raining hard all that day, and by ten o'clock the
wind was blowing a gale. I was just ready for bed, and had turned off
my light and raised the shade, when I thought I'd take another peep at
my mysterious mansion across the fence. All I could see, however, were
just some streaks of light through the chinks in the shutters in that
one room on the second floor. All the rest of the place was as dark as a
pocket. And as I sat staring out, it suddenly came to me what fun it
would be to try to unravel the whole mysterious affair all by myself. It
would 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 place
like a cat, and I knew _that_ wouldn't be right. It would be too much
like spying into your neighbor's affairs, and, of course, that's horrid.
Finally, I concluded, that if I could do it without being meddlesome or
prying, I'd just watch the place a _little_ and see if anything
interesting 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 of
the shutters of that lighted room, and ripped it from its fastening,
and threw it back against the wall. And the next moment a figure hurried
to the window, leaned out, and drew the shutter back in place again. But
just for one instant I had caught a glimpse of the whole inside of the
room! 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 enormous
armchair 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 she
held her right hand over it in the air and waved it back and forth, sort
of uncertainly. You can't imagine what a strange picture it was--and
then the shutter was closed. There was something so _weird_ about it
all.
"If I was curious before, I was simply _wild_ with interest then. It
seemed as if I _must_ know what it all meant--what that strange old lady
could be doing, sitting there in state in the middle of the room, and
all 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 the
secret, because no one but you knows I'm the least interested in the
affair, and I don't want them to--now! I'll tell you what happened
next."
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 for
the 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't
either 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 Minerva
was out of hearing.
"It's no use!" whispered Marcia. "We'll have to stop for to-night. But
there's lots more, and the _most_ interesting part of it, too. Well,
never mind, I'll tell you all the rest to-morrow!"