It came from the
front door, there was no shadow of doubt, and somebody had just
succeeded in opening the little door in the boarding. There was still
the big main door to pass.

"Come!--quick!--quick!" whispered Joyce. "It will _never_ do for us to
be found here. We might be arrested for trespassing! Let's slip down
cellar and out through the window, and perhaps we can get away without
being seen. Never mind the candles! They'll never know who put them
there!-- Hurry!" She clutched at Cynthia, expecting instant
acquiescence. But, to her amazement, Cynthia stood firm, and boldly
declared:

"No, Joyce, I'm not going to run away! Even if we got out without being
seen, they'd be sure to discover us sooner or later. We've left enough
of our things around for that. I'm going to meet whoever it is, and tell
them we haven't done any real harm,--and so must you!"

All during this speech they could hear the rattle of some one working at
the lock of the main door. And a second after Cynthia finished, it
yielded with another loud crack. Next, footsteps were heard in the hall.
By this time, Joyce was so paralyzed with fright that she could scarcely
move a limb, and speech had entirely deserted her. They were caught as
in a trap! There was no escape now. It was a horrible position.
Cynthia, however, pulled her to her feet.

"Come!" she ordered. "We'd better meet them and face it out!" Joyce
could only marvel at her astonishing coolness, who had always been the
most timid and terror-ridden of mortals.

At this instant, the drawing-room door was pushed open!

CHAPTER XIV

THE MEDDLING OF CYNTHIA

To Joyce, the moment that the drawing-room door was pushed open will
always seem, with perhaps one exception, the most intense of all her
life. She fully expected to see a man stride in--more likely half a
dozen!--and demand the meaning of the unwarrantable intrusion and
illumination. Instead of that, the slight figure of a woman dressed all
in black, and with a long heavy dark veil over her face, stepped into
the 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 of
the candles, stood revealed. Joyce gave a tiny gasp. In all her life she
had never seen so beautiful an old lady. Masses of soft wavy white hair
framed a face of singular charm, despite its age, and the biggest,
saddest brown eyes in all the world, looked out inqu