[CHAPTER IX]
FOR THE SAKE OF CECILY
"What can it mean?" muttered Janet. "What does she want of us?"
"Why, it's perfectly plain," declared Marcia. "She has discovered that we have been trying to correspond with Cecily, and she's going to demand an explanation—probably warn us that we must stop it. Are you—afraid to go, Janet?"
"Not I! Why should I be? Miss Benedict can't do or say a thing to harm us! But I am anxious for poor little Cecily. I just hate to think we may have brought trouble on her."
"Oh, I wish now we'd never suggested such a thing!" moaned Marcia. "We've just succeeded in making that poor little thing miserable, I suppose."
"Well, we can only remember that we meant to make her happy, and we did—for a while, at least," comforted Janet. "And what's more, I'm not going to worry about it another bit to-night. Maybe it's something entirely different, anyway."
Marcia, however, could not bring herself to this cheerful view of things. All night long she tossed beside the sleeping Janet, wondering and wondering about what the coming interview might mean, and blaming herself a thousand times for placing Cecily in the position of having deceived her guardian. When morning came she was pale and heavy-eyed, which alarmed her aunt not a little.