"Look!" she cried.
Marcia looked, and down the path from the front door of the strange house she saw Cecily, dressed to go out, approaching the gate. It was plain that she was bound on another marketing expedition for the basket hung from her arm.
"Well! what do you make of that!" exclaimed Marcia in bewilderment. "Did she signal to us?"
"No, she didn't," returned Janet. "I've watched every minute. She couldn't have forgotten it. But, do you know, there may be some very good reason why she didn't—or couldn't—and perhaps she's hoping we'll see her, and be on hand outside, anyway, as we promised."
"But she must have seen us sitting in the window," argued Marcia. "She might at least have looked up and waved her hand, or nodded, or smiled—or something!"
Cecily, meanwhile, was fumbling with the lock of the big old gate, which seemed, as on a former occasion, to give her a great deal of trouble.
"Come," cried Janet to Marcia. "We'll just about have time to catch her if we hurry." And seizing their hats, the girls hastened downstairs. Their front door closed behind them just as Cecily came abreast of them. What happened next was like a blow in the face!
Cecily Marlowe passed them by without a look