"She says all the friends and relatives they had are dead and gone now, so no one knows the real reason for their queer life. And as the years have passed she has grown more and more into the habit of living this way till it seemed quite natural to her—at least it did till I came; and now she is beginning to realize again that it is queer. And she was so afraid of gossip and talk that when you first wanted to be friends with me she would not allow it, for fear of starting more unpleasant inquiries into her life."
"But what about her poor eyes?" asked Janet.
"Oh, yes! About ten years ago she began to have those terrible pains in her eyes, and then she had to darken all the house and wear the veil and dark glasses outdoors. She went to a doctor about them, but was told that the case was hopeless unless she had some complicated operation and spent months in a dark room. This she felt she couldn't do on account of her sister, whom she would not leave to a stranger's care. So she has just suffered ever since.
"That's all, girls, except that she told me her sister's name is Cornelia and that hers is Alixe. I'm to call her Miss Alixe after this. It makes me seem a little nearer to her."
"What a pretty name—Alixe!" commented Marcia. "It just seems to suit her, somehow. But isn't that the saddest story? It just goes to show how unhappy we can make people by talking about them and their affairs."
"And oh! there's one thing more. Miss Benedict—I mean Miss Alixe—gave me permission to tell you all this, but she only asks that you will not repeat it except to your father and aunt. She says she knows you can be depended on to do this."
That day, before Janet and Marcia left, they encountered Miss Benedict in the hall. And, by the way she pressed their hands in saying good-by they felt that she knew Cecily had told them her story, though she made no reference to it.
"Cecily may run in and visit you a while to-morrow. I think the change will do her good," she remarked at parting. And that was the only hint she gave of a change in the affairs of "Benedict's Folly."
When Janet and Marcia were at last outside the gate they gazed up at the forbidding brick wall and drew a long breath of wonder.
"So that is the story!" breathed Marcia. "What an awful thing—that two people's lives should be spoiled just by unkind gossip!"