Hildegarde's Neighbors by Laura E Richards (simple ebook reader .TXT) 📕

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

 

THE ARRIVAL

 

OLD FRIENDS AND NEW

 

III. PUMPKIN HOUSE

 

HESTER'S PLAYROOM

 

TEA AT ROSEHOLME

 

ANOTHER TEA-PARTY

 

VII. IN GOOD GREEN WOOD

 

VIII. "HANDS ACROSS THE SEA"

 

MERRY WEATHER INDOORS

 

A NEW LIFE

 

A NIGHT-PIECE

 

XII. A-SAILING WE WILL GO

 

XIII. IN PERIL BY WATER

 

XIV. ROGER THE CODGER

 

A MORNING HOUR

 

XVI. GOOD-BY

CHAPTER I. (THE ARRIVAL)

"Mamma," said Hildegarde Grahame, flying into her mother's room,

"I have news for you, thrilling news! Guess what it is!"

 

Mrs. Grahame looked up from her sewing.

 

"The house is on fire," she said, quietly, "or you have found a

Royal Walnut Moth; or, possibly, Hugh has developed wings and

flown away. None of these things would greatly surprise me; but in

the first case I must take action, while in either of the others I

can finish this seam."

 

"Continue your prosaic labours!" said the girl. "The dress is

mine, and I want it."

 

She sat down, and fanned herself with her broad straw hat. "It is

hot!" she announced with emphasis.

 

"And that is the news?" said her mother. "Astonishing! I should

never have guessed it, assuredly."

 

"Madam, you are a tease! The big yellow house is let, and the

family is moving in today, at this moment! NOW, how do you feel?"

 

"Much the same, thank you!" was the reply. "Slight acceleration of

the pulse, with fever-flush; nothing more. But it is great news,

certainly, Hilda. Do you know anything of the people?"

 

Hildegarde quoted:

 

   "'I saw them come; one horse was blind,

     The tails of both hung down behind,

     Their shoes were on their feet.'

 

"Mr. and Mrs. Miles Merryweather, six children, cook, housemaid

and seamstress, two dogs, two cats (at least the basket mewed, so

I infer cats), one canary bird, and fourteen trunks."

 

"Do I understand that Miss Grahame has been looking through the

gap in the hedge?"

 

"You do, madam. And oh, mammina, it was such fun! I really could

not help it; and no one saw me; and they came tumbling in in such

a funny, jolly way! I rather think we shall like them, but it will

be strange to have such near neighbours."

 

"I wonder what the Colonel will say!" Mrs. Grahame commented.

 

"He is pleased," said Hildegarde; "actually pleased. He knows Mr.

Merryweather, and likes him; in fact, he has just been telling me

about them."

 

"Hildegarde, you are becoming a sad gossip," said Mrs. Grahame,

severely. "I think you would better sit down and work these

buttonholes at once."

 

"So that I can repeat the gossip to you," said this impertinent

young woman, kissing her mother lightly on the forehead.

"Precisely, dear madam. Where is my thimble? Oh, here! Where are

the buttonholes? Oh, there! Well, now you shall hear. And I fear I

have been a gossip, indeed.

 

"It began with obedience to my elders and betters. You told me to

go down and see how Mrs. Lankton's 'neurology' was; and I went. I

found the poor old thing in bed, and moaning piteously. I am bound

to say, however, that the moans did not begin till after I clicked

the latch. It is frightful to see how suspicious a course of Mrs.

Lankton always makes me. I went in, and the room was hermetically

sealed, with a roaring fire in the air-tight stove."

 

"To-day!" exclaimed Mrs. Grahame; "the woman will die!"

 

"Not she!" said Hildegarde. "I was nearly suffocated, and

protested, with such breath as I could find; but she said, 'Oh,

Miss Grahame, my dear! you don't know anything about trouble or

sickness, and no need to before your time. A breath of air, my

dear, is like the bellers to my neurology--the bellers itself! Ah!

I ain't closed my eyes, not to speak of, since you was here last.'

 

"I tried to convince her that good air was better than bad, since

she must breathe some kind of air; but she only shook her head and

groaned, and told me about a woman who got into her oven and shut

the door, and stayed there till she was baked 'a beautiful light

brown,' as Mrs. Lincoln says. ''T was a brick oven, dear, such as

you don't see 'em nowadays; and she was cured of her neurology,

slick and slap; but I don't never expect no such help of mine, now

Mr. Aytoun's dead and gone. Not but what your blessed ma is a

mother to me, and so I always tell the neighbours.'

 

"Do you want any more, missis? I can go on indefinitely, if you

like. I stayed as long as I dared, and managed to hold the door

open quite a bit, so that a little air really did get in; and I

gave her the liniment, and rubbed her poor old back, and then gave

her a spoonful of jelly, and ran. That is the first part of my

tale. Then, I was coming home through the Ladies' Garden, and I

found my Hugh playing Narcissus over a pool, and wondering whether

freckles were dirt on his soul that came out in spots--the lamb!

And I had to stay and talk with him a bit, and he was so dear! And

then I walked along, and just as I came to the gap in the hedge,

Mrs. Grahame, my dear madam, I heard the sound of a lawn-mower on

the other side, and a man's voice whistling. This was amazing, and

I am human, though I don't know whether you ever noticed it. I

looked, I did; and so would others, if they had been there. A

wagon stood at the back door, all piled with trunks and bags and

baskets; I liked the look of the baskets, I can't tell exactly

why. And at that very moment a carriage drove up, with two

delightful brown horses, and a brown man who looked delightful,

too, driving. I know it must be Mr. Merryweather, mammy, and I am

sure we shall like him. Tall and straight and square, with clear

blue eyes and broad shoulders; and handled his horses well, and--what are you laughing at, Mrs. Grahame, if I may be permitted to

ask?"

 

"I was only thinking that this charming individual was, in all

probability, the coachman," said Mrs. Grahame, with mild

malignity.

 

"Mamma!" cried Hildegarde, indignantly. "As if I didn't know a

coachman when I saw him! Besides, the Colonel--but wait! Well, and

then there was Mrs. Merryweather--stout and cheerful-looking, and

I should think very absent-minded. Well, but, mother," seeing Mrs.

Grahame about to protest, "she was dressed for driving, not to say

travelling, and she--she had a pen behind her ear. She truly had!

 

"There were two big girls, and two big boys, and a little girl,

and a little boy. I thought they all looked nice, and the girls

were pretty, and one of the big boys was so full of fun he

twinkled all over. A handsome boy, with red hair and dark blue

eyes; but, oh, such a pity! his name is Obadiah, for I heard the

other call him so. How can intelligent people call a boy Obadiah?"

 

She sewed for some minutes in silence, her needle darting in and

out with thoughtful regularity, then went on.

 

"All the family seem to have strange names. The other boy is

called Ferguson, and one girl is Toots, and another is Chucky. I

detest nicknames; but these people all seemed so jolly, and on

such good terms with each other, that I felt a sort of warming to

them. The girl named Toots tumbled out of the wagon, and the

others all laughed, and she laughed, too. She dropped everything

she was carrying, and she was carrying a great deal,--a butterfly-net, and a mouse-trap, and three books, and a bandbox,--and

everybody seemed to think that the best joke of all. One called

her medicine dropper, and another drop-cake, and another dropped

egg, and so on; and away they all went into the house, laughing

and shouting and tumbling over each other. Such a jolly family.

Mamma!"

 

"Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Grahame, very quietly, but without

looking up.

 

"Nothing!" said Hildegarde. "You are an angel, that is all."

 

Mrs. Grahame sighed, and thought, as Hildegarde had been thinking,

how good it would be to have many children, like a crown of

sunbeams, about her; and thought of a little grave in Greenwood,

where her only boy lay.

 

Presently she looked up with her usual bright smile.

 

"This is all very interesting, Hilda, and I fully sympathize with

your feelings behind the hedge; but you have not told me how you

came to know about our new neighbours. Did Colonel Ferrers join

you at your peep-hole?"

 

"He did, mamma! He did just precisely that. I saw him coming along

the road, swinging his stick, and frowning and humming to

himself,--dear thing! And when he came near the house, and heard

the voices, he stopped and looked, and began to go softly and

slowly; so then I knew that he, too, wanted to see what was going

So I slipped to the gate and beckoned to him, and he came in

on tiptoe and joined me. Such fun we had,--just like two

conspirators! He could see over my head, so we could both look at

once; and he kept muttering scraps of information in my ear, so

that it quite buzzed. Yes, I know you are shocked, dear madam, but

it really could not be helped; and you said once to Jack--poor old

Jack!--that his uncle was a criterion of gentle breeding and

manners! So now, Mrs. Grahame!"

 

"Well," said Mrs. Grahame, "since matters are so, I may as well

hear what my criterion had to say about our new neighbours. A

pretty state of things, truly! the magnate and the maiden, spying

through bushes on these unsuspecting strangers. Say on, unhappy

girl!"

 

"Of course he said, 'Hum, ha!' first, a good many times; and we

laughed at each other, under our breath, and were very happy. And

then he said, 'Miles Merryweather, my dear! Excellent person!

Heard he had taken the old house, but had no idea he was coming so

soon. Eminent scientific man, manager of the new chemical works at

Brompton, over yonder. Met him once, some years ago; glad to renew

the acquaintance. Large family, I see, yes, yes; hum, ha! Boy

about Hugh's age; inferior to him in intellect, my dear, I'll bet

a--I should be tolerably certain. Astonishing lad, my Hugh! Ha!

Mrs. Merryweather, presumably; literary, I hear, and that sort of

thing. Don't care for literary people myself; prefer their books;

but looks amiable. Pretty girl that, Hilda, my dear! the tall slip

with the fair hair! Yes, yes! "A pretty girl's the noblest work

of"--you remember? What's that? "An honest man," in the original?

Now, will you hear this girl setting her elders to rights? I

wonder what your mother was thinking of when she brought you up,

young woman!' and so on, and so on, in his own delightful way.

Really, mammina, from what he said, we are going to have a great

acquisition to the little neighbourhood. We must call as soon as

it would be in any way decent, mustn't we? Oh, but wait! I must

tell you the end. We had been so interested in watching the

children, and in seeing them go tumbling down and up into the

house, that we had lost sight of Mr. Merryweather himself. I

suppose he must have driven round to the stable and left the

horses there; for suddenly, almost in our ears, we heard a deep

voice saying, 'A fine hedge, but needs clipping badly; we must set

the boys to work in the morning.' We started back as if we had

been shot. Colonel Ferrers turned purple, and I felt every colour

in the rainbow flooding my cheeks. We made sure we had been seen

or heard, and I think Colonel Ferrers was on the point of stepping

forward like a soldier, and apologizing; but I held his arm for a

moment, in pure cowardice, and the next moment we saw Mr. and Mrs.

Merryweather, arm in