"That's just where you're mistaken; but you'd never guess what it was. About a minute after I'd rung the bell, I heard light footsteps on the walk behind the gate. But, instead of coming toward the gate, they were hurrying away from it; and in another minute I heard the front door close. After that it was all quiet, and nothing else happened. Then I went on home."
"I know," interrupted Janet, whose quick mind had already worked out the problem, "exactly what occurred. It was Miss Benedict, who had been just about to come out on her way to do the marketing. And your ring frightened her, and sent her hurrying back into the house. Isn't it all singular!"
"Yes, that must have been it," agreed Marcia. "And it made me more curious than ever to understand about it. And I was so annoyed at myself for ringing at all. If I hadn't, I might have seen Miss Benedict close by, when she came out of the gate. It served me right for doing such a thing, anyhow!
"But after that I got to watching, every time I went out, thinking I might see her on the street somewhere, especially if it was about the time she usually did her marketing—along toward dusk. Several days passed, however, and I never did. I had thought of watching from my window to see when she went out, and then following her. But that didn't seem right, somehow. It would be too much like spying on her. So I just concluded I'd trust to chance. And luck favored me at last, one morning, about a week after I'd rung her bell.
"It happened that the night before, Eliza suddenly discovered we were all out of oatmeal for breakfast, and I promised her I'd get some very early in the morning, when I went to take my walk. You know, I've found that on these warm summer days in the city it's much pleasanter to take a walk in the real early morning than to wait till later in the day, when it's crowded and hot. And I always used to love walking in the early morning, up in Northam.
"Well, anyhow, I got up that day about six. I knew that no stores near here would be open so early, and I decided to walk over toward the other side of town. It's a sort of poor section there, and the stores often open up quite early, so that folks can do their marketing before they go to work. It was a beautiful, cool morning, and I was quite enjoying myself when—Jan, what do you think?—I looked up, and about half a block ahead of me was a little black figure with a market-basket, hurrying along. I knew it was Miss Benedict!
"Can you imagine my surprise—and delight? I suddenly made up my mind I'd keep behind her, and go into the same store she did. There could surely be no harm in that! And by and by I saw her turn into a little grocery-shop; and a minute or two after in I walked, went to the counter, and stood right near her. There was no one in the store beside ourselves and the grocer. He looked sleepy, and was yawning while he wrapped up something for her. He asked me to 'Wait a minute, please!' which, of course, I was only too delighted to do, as it gave me a perfect right to stand close by my mysterious little neighbor and hear her speak.
"And it was right there, Janet, that I got the surprise of my life. She still wore her black veil, and it was so thick that not a bit of her face could be seen. Her dress was the most old-fashioned thing—it looked twenty years old, if not more. I don't know what sort of a voice I had expected to hear, but it was nothing in the least like what I did hear.
"I can't exactly describe it to you, Jan, but it was the most beautiful speaking voice I've ever heard in my life! It was soft, and flute-like, and so—so appealing! It somehow went straight to my heart. It made me feel as if I wanted to take care of Miss Benedict, somehow, I can't exactly explain it. Even when she was speaking of such commonplace things as butter and eggs and sugar, it was like—like music!
"Well, in a few moments she had finished, and the grocer packed her things in her basket, and she went away. I had to stay, of course, and get my oatmeal, and I didn't see her again. But being so close to her and hearing that lovely voice had changed my whole feeling about her. At first, I had just been interested and awfully curious about the whole mysterious affair, and, I'll confess, just a wee bit repelled by the account of the queer little lady and the strange way she lived. I wanted to know the explanation of the mystery, but I didn't particularly want to know her. But after that, I felt different,—sort of bewitched by that beautiful voice. I wanted to help that Miss Benedict. I wanted to do something for her, or try to make her happier, or—or something, I couldn't quite explain what. And I wanted—oh, so much!—to see her face, and know what she was like, and more about herself. Can you understand, Jan?"