"So she has told me," went on Miss Benedict. "I also understand that lately you have been dropping notes to her into the garden—at night."
Janet noticed, even in the midst of her trepidation, how wonderfully sweet and soft and harmonious the voice was.
"Yes," replied Marcia, very low, "we have." The worst was out—now let the blow fall! They braced themselves to receive it.
"Cecily is ill!" said Miss Benedict, abruptly.
They each uttered a startled little "Oh!"
"She has not been at all well for over a week," the lovely voice continued. "I am very much worried about her."
Janet and Marcia glanced into each other's eyes in astonishment. Cecily ill—and Miss Benedict actually caring about it! Here were surprises indeed!
"Oh, I hope it's nothing serious!" exclaimed Marcia, anxiously.
"I hope it is not—and I think it is probably only the hot weather and—and want of exercise." Miss Benedict hesitated a little over the last. "She has been so—poorly, and has—has evidently been so anxious to—to see you, that I thought I would—surprise her by asking you to come and—visit her a while." It was plainly a struggle for Miss Benedict to make this seem the natural, normal thing to do. "Will you—come up to her room?"
The girls were almost too stunned at the turn events had taken to reply. "Why—we'd be glad to," faltered Marcia, at last.