CHAPTER XIV
THE MEDDLING OF CYNTHIA
To Joyce, the moment that the drawing-room door was pushed open willalways seem, with perhaps one exception, the most intense of all herlife. She fully expected to see a man stride in--more likely half adozen!--and demand the meaning of the unwarrantable intrusion andillumination. Instead of that, the slight figure of a woman dressed allin black, and with a long heavy dark veil over her face, stepped intothe room!
For a moment she paused, surprised, uncertain, almost trembling. Then,with a firm movement, she threw back her veil, and, in the soft light ofthe candles, stood revealed. Joyce gave a tiny gasp. In all her life shehad never seen so beautiful an old lady. Masses of soft wavy white hairframed a face of singular charm, despite its age, and the biggest,saddest brown eyes in all the world, looked out inquiringly on the twogirls. There was complete silence. The three could hear each otherbreathe. Then the newcomer spoke:
"Which of you two friends was it, may I ask, who sent me the letter?"Her voice was sweet and low and soft, and as sad as her eyes. Joyce gavea start and opened her lips to speak, but Cynthia was before her.
"_I did!_" she announced calmly. The lady turned to her.
"That was very lovely of you,--and very thoughtful. I began planning tocome soon after I received it, and tried to arrive at about the time youmentioned. But I do not quite understand all--all this!" She glancedtoward the burning candles. "And I'm afraid I do not understand howyou--how you came to be in here!"
"Oh," began Cynthia, stumblingly, "I--I couldn't quite explain it allin a letter--and I didn't even know you'd pay any attention to what Iwrote, anyway. But we'll tell you all about it right now, if you careto hear." A light was beginning to dawn on the bewildered Joyce.Suddenly she sprang forward and seized the lady's hand.
"Tell me--oh, please tell me," she cried, "_are_ you Mrs. Collingwood?"
"Yes, my dear!" said the lady.
And to the amazement of every one Joyce broke down and began to sobhysterically, exclaiming, "Oh, I'm so glad--so glad!" between everyother sob.
"I think I'll sit down," said Mrs. Collingwood, when Joyce had regainedcontrol of herself. "I'm very tired--and very, very--bewildered!" Shesat down on the sofa, and drew each of the girls down beside her.
"Now tell me," she said to Cynthia. "Explain it all, and then show mewhat you think will interest me so. You see, I have traveled many wearymiles to hear this strange story."
So Cynthia began at the beginning and told how they had first foundtheir way in, and had then become interested in unraveling the mysteryof the old house. Mrs. Collingwood listened with deep attention; butwhen Cynthia reached the tale of the hidden stairway, she started insurprise.
"Why, I never dreamed there was such a thing in the house!" sheexclaimed. "The rooms were re-papered once, but I was away when it wasdone. None of us knew!"
"No, we thought you didn't," continued Cynthia. "And so we went into thelocked-up room. And there we found something,--oh!--Mrs. Collingwood! Wefelt sure you had never seen it, and that you _ought_ to! You see, weknew all the rest of the--the story, from Joyce's great-aunt, LuciaKenway. And we felt you _ought_ to see it,--at least _I_ felt that way,and so I wrote you the letter. I didn't even tell Joyce I'd done it,because--because I was afraid she'd think I was _meddling_ in whatdidn't concern me! But I couldn't help it. I couldn't sleep nights tillI'd sent that letter, because it all haunted me so! I just sent it toChesterton, South Carolina, because that was all the address I knew. Ididn't even feel sure it would ever reach you.
"And I set a special date for you to get here on purpose, because--well,because I thought we ought to be here to receive you, and have the placelook sort of--homelike. It would be terrible, seems to me, to come backto a dark, deserted house that you'd left so long ago, and nobody hereto--to welcome you. Well, that's all, I guess. But Mrs. Collingwood, I'mso afraid we haven't done right,--that we meddled in what was nobusiness of ours, and trespassed in a house we should never haveentered! I only hope you can forgive us!" Thus ended Cynthia, brokenly,and Mrs. Collingwood put out her hands to take a hand of each girl inher clasp.
"You dear little meddlers!" she exclaimed. "This is all so astonishingto me; but I feel sure, nevertheless, that you have done nothing butgood! And now will you--will you show me what you spoke of?"
Cynthia rose, handed her a lighted candle, and led her to the opening ofthe little stairway in the library. "It's up these stairs, in the roomabove--on the desk," she said. "You will find it all lit up there. AndI think that--you would rather go--alone!" Mrs. Collingwood took thecandle, and Cynthia helped her into the opening at the foot of thestairs. Then she went back to Joyce.
When they were alone, the two girls stood staring at one another andCynthia's cheeks grew fiery red.
"I don't know what--what you must think of me, Joyce!" she stammered. "Iought never to have done this, I suppose, without telling you."
"Why didn't you tell me?" demanded Joyce.
"Why, I was so afraid you'd think me silly and--and meddling, and youmightn't approve of it. I was unhappy,--I--somehow felt as though I'dcommitted a crime, and the only way to right it was this!"
"How long ago did you send your letter?" asked Joyce, presently.
Cynthia considered. "I think I posted it a week ago Thursday."
"And you knew all the time, last night, that this was going to happento-day?" asked Joyce incredulously.
"Well, I sort of expected it,--that is, I really didn't know whethershe'd come or not. It made me dreadfully nervous, and that's the reasonI was so cross to you, Joyce, I suppose. Will you forgive me, now thatyou know?"
"Why, of course!" said Joyce. Then, suddenly, "But, oh!-- I _wish_ I'dknown this all at the time!"
"What for? What difference would it have made?" demanded Cynthia.
But Joyce only replied: "Hush! Is that Mrs. Collingwood coming down?"