CHAPTER II.
OLD FRIENDS AND NEW.
It did indeed seem that the advent of the new neighbours mightmake a great difference in Hildegarde Grahame's life, if, as shehoped, they were the right kind of neighbours. She was an onlychild. She and her mother had lived now for two years at Braeside,a lovely country place which they had come to look on as home.Hildegarde was always happy, and was unconscious of any want inher life; but her mother often longed for another daughter, or apleasant girl in the neighbourhood, to be a companion for her dearone. True, Hildegarde had one young friend, Hugh Allen, the wardof Colonel Ferrers, their kind and eccentric neighbour; but Hugh,though a darling, was a little boy, and could not "dovetail" intoa girl's life as another girl might. Perhaps Mrs. Grahame hardlyrealized how completely she herself filled Hildegarde's idea of afriend and companion. The daughter was enough for her; her ownlife seemed full and running over with joy and work; but for thechild she wanted always more and more. So her hopes, as well asHildegarde's, rose high when she heard of the pleasant-lookinggirls who had come to the next-door house. The house was a large,old-fashioned one; less stately than Roseholme, Colonel Ferrers'house; less home-like and comfortable, perhaps, than Braeside,--but that might only be because it had been so long uninhabited,Hildegarde thought,--yet still pleasant enough, with its tallcolumns and broad piazza. The house was yellow, the columns white,and the cheerful colours were set off by the dark trees, elms andlocusts, that bent over it and almost hid it from the road. Asmooth stretch of lawn lay between the house and the hedge,through which Hildegarde and the Colonel had made theirobservations: a good lawn for tennis, Hildegarde thought. How goodit would be to play tennis again! She had been longing for thetime when Hugh would be big enough to learn, or when Jack Ferrers,her cousin, would come back from Germany. How surprised Jack wouldbe when she wrote him that the yellow house was inhabited. Whatfriends he might make of those two nice-looking boys, unless hetook one of his shy fits, and would have nothing to do with them.Jack was a trying boy, though very dear.
With these things in her mind, Hildegarde was sauntering towardthe Ladies' Garden, on the day after the new arrival. This was afavourite haunt of hers, and she was very apt to go there for aseason of meditation, or when she wanted to find Hugh. It was acurious place,--an old, neglected, forgotten garden, with high,unclipped box hedges, overhung by whispering larches. Hildegardehad dreamed many a dream under those larches, sitting beside thelittle stream that plashed and fell in a tiny rocky hollow, orpacing up and down the grassy paths. For the child Hugh, too, thisplace had a singular fascination, and he would hang for hours overa certain still, brown pool at the foot of the garden, thinkingunutterable things, occasionally making a remark to his dog, butfor the most part silent. Knowing his ways, Hildegarde was themore surprised, on this occasion, to hear the sound of voices inlively conversation. Whom could the boy have picked up and broughthere? He had no friend of his own age; like herself, he was a lonechild; and it was with a little pang, which she almost laughed tofeel, that she drew near, and softly parted the branches that hungbetween her and the pool. The first step was fatal, she thought,and she was apparently condemned to be a peeper and aneavesdropper for the rest of her days.
Hugh was sitting beside the pool, but not in his favouriteNarcissus-like attitude. His knees were well up in front of him,his hands were clasped over them, and facing him, in precisely thesame position, was a boy in blue jean overalls, with a shock ofblack hair, and bright, dark eyes.
"What kind of fish?" asked the black-eyed boy, with kindling look.
"Little fish with silver tails," said Hugh, "and shining eyes.They look at me, and sometimes I think they listen to what I say;but they cannot speak, you know."
"Ho! I should think not!" said Black-eyes, scornfully. "I meanwhat KIND of fish are they, when you catch 'em,--minnows, or dace,or sticklebacks, or what? What are their names?"
"I do not know that," said Hugh. "I never thought of their names;and I don't catch them."
"Why not? Wouldn't you be let? Don't the people in the house allowfishing? I thought you said they were nice people!" and my lordshowed a face of keen disgust.
"I don't want to catch them," said Hugh, quietly. "Why should I?They swim about, and I see them shine like silver and purple underthe brown water. Sometimes they have crimson spots, like drops ofblood, or ruby stones. Look! there is one now, a ruby-spottedone!"
"Oh, my crickey!" cried the strange boy, jumping up, and dancingfrom one foot to the other. "It's a trout, you idiot! Gimme aline! gimme a net, or something! Gimme--" He snatched off his cap,and made a frantic effort to catch the trout, which flipped itstail quietly at him, and withdrew under a rock.
The boy sat down, breathless, and stared at Hugh with all hiseyes.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked, at length "What kind of afellow ARE you, anyhow? Are you loony?"
Hugh pondered, the question being new to him.
"I--don't--know!" he announced, after sufficient thought.
There was a moment of silence, and black eyes and blue exchangedan ardent gaze. Hugh's eyes were bright, with the brightness of ablue lake, where the sunbeams strike deep into it, and transfusethe clear water with light; but the eyes of the strange boytwinkled and snapped, as when sunshine sparkles from ripple toripple. He was the first to break the silence.
"Where do you go to school?" he asked. "How old are you? how farhave you got in arithmetic? fractions? So am I! Hate 'em? so do I!Play base-ball?"
"No!" said Hugh.
"Isn't there a nine here?"
"Nine?" Hugh turned this over in his mind. "I only know of threeat Roseholme. One is carved ivory, carved all over with dragons,and of course one could not play with that; and there are twocricket balls that the Colonel had when he was a boy, and he saysI may play with those some day, when I know enough not to breakwindows. Perhaps you have learned that, if you are used to havingnine balls."
The stranger stared again, with a look in which despair wasdawning. "You must be loony!" he muttered. And then, aloud, "Can'tyou play anything? What can you do?"
"I can run," said Hugh, after another pause of reflection, "andswim, of course, and box a little, and fence."
"Fence!" said Black-eyes; his voice took a more respectful tone."Where did you learn to fence? You're too young, aren't you?"
"I am nine!" said Hugh. "I began to learn two years ago, and Ihave outgrown my first foil, and the Colonel has given me a newone, almost full size."
"Who's the Colonel?"
"Colonel Ferrers, the gentleman I live with. My great-aunt is hishousekeeper; and he is my dearest friend, except my Beloved andher mother AND my great-aunt."
"Who is your Beloved? What makes you talk so funny?"
The black-eyed boy no longer spoke scornfully, the fencing havingmade a deep impression on him, but he looked more puzzled thanever.
"How do I talk?" asked Hugh, in return. "This is the way I DOtalk, you see. And my Beloved is Miss Grahame, and that is whatyou have to call her; but I call her my Beloved, because she isthat; and she is the most beautiful--"
But here the young gentleman was interrupted; there was a hastyputting aside of the branches, and Hildegarde, with pink cheeksand a guilty conscience, stood before the two boys. They bothjumped up at once, having good manners; but Hugh's rising was calmand leisurely, while the black-eyed lad scrambled to his feet, anddarted swift looks here and there, preparing for flight.
"How do you do?" said Hildegarde, coming forward quickly andholding out her hand. "You are not going, are you? I think youmust be one of our new neighbours, and we ought to makeacquaintance, oughtn't we?"
The boy smiled, a little quick, frightened smile, "just the way abird would do if it could," Hildegarde thought, and laid a smallbrown paw timidly in hers.
"This is my Beloved!" said Hugh, by way of introduction. "So youcan see for yourself."
"And am I not to hear my neighbour's name?" asked Hildegarde.
"I am Will Merryweat
her," said the black-eyed boy.
"I am very glad to see you, Will. I hope you and Hugh will befriends, for it is so nice to have friends of one's own age, andHugh has no one. You, of course, have brothers and sisters, andthat is the best of all, isn't it?"
There was no resisting Hildegarde's smile; the young Merryweatherwavered, smiled, smiled again, and in five minutes they were allseated together, and chatting away like old friends.
It appeared that Master Will was pleased with his newsurroundings, but that the absence of a base-ball nine was atragic thing, not lightly to be contemplated. The house was "noend;" the dwelling they had just left was entirely too small forthem.
"You see," he said, "when we went to that house we weren't born atall, most of us; that is, there was only Bell and the boys. So itwas big enough then, and they had rooms to themselves, and allkinds of things. But then we began to come along, and at last itgot so small that the boys had to sleep in the barn, and whenthere was more than one visitor I had to go on the parlour sofa,and it's a beast of a sofa to sleep on,--haircloth, you know, andyou slide off all night; so father thought we'd better move, andwe came here."
"Is Bell your eldest sister?" asked Hildegarde, not sure how farit would be right to question this frank youth.
"Yes, that's Bell. She's no end nice and jolly; and she's incollege, you know, and we have such larks when she comes home."
In college! Hildegarde's hopes fell. She knew she could not get onwith college girls, though she had great respect for them. Dearme! Probably Bell would be very learned, and would despise her asan "unidead girl." Cruel Dr. Johnson, to originate that injuriousepithet!
At this moment she heard a fresh, joyous voice calling,--
"Will! Willy boy! W--I--Double--L, where are you?"
"That's Bell," cried Will, starting up. "She's come after me."
"Here I am, Bell!" he shouted. "Here's a jolly place; come along!I say, may she come along?" he added, turning to Hildegarde with aconscience-stricken look. Hildegarde nodded eagerly, hoping thathis request had not been heard. Just beyond the Ladies' Garden wasa high board-fence which separated Braeside from the neighbouringplace. At the top of this fence appeared two small but strong-looking hands, and following them, a girl's face, blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked and smiling.
"You little rascal!" cried the girl; and then she caught sight ofHildegarde. "Oh, I beg your pardon!" she cried, hastily. "I didn'tknow,--I was looking for my brother--"
"Oh, please come up!" cried Hildegarde, running to the fence."Please come over! Oh, you mustn't hang by your hands that way;you'll get splinters in them. You are Miss Merryweather, and I amHildegarde Grahame; so now we are introduced, and let me help youover, do!"
Hildegarde delivered this breathlessly, and held out both hands tohelp the stranger; but the latter, with a frank smile and a nod,drew herself up without more ado, perched on the top of the fence,then sprang lightly to the ground.
"Thank you so much!" she said, warmly, taking Hildegarde'soutstretched hand. "Of course I didn't know I was trespassing, butI'm glad I came. And oh, what a lovely place! I didn't know therewas such a place out of a book. Oh, the hedges! and the brook! andthe trees! How can it be real?"
Hildegarde nodded in delight. "Yes!" she said. "That is just theway I felt when I first saw the place. It was some time before Icould feel it right to come here without apologizing to theghosts."
"Your ancestors' ghosts?" said Bell Merryweather, inquiringly."Aren't they your own ghosts? Haven't you lived here always?"
Hildegarde explained that the place had belonged to a cousin ofher mother's, who left it to her at his death.
"Oh!" said Miss Merryweather; then she considered a little, withher head on one side. Hildegarde decided that, though not abeauty, the new-comer had one of the pleasantest faces she hadever seen.
"On the whole," the girl went on, "I am rather glad that my theorywas wrong. The truth is less romantic, but it makes you much morereal and accessible, which is, after all, desirable in a countryneighbourhood."
"Do tell me what you mean!" cried Hildegarde.
Miss Merryweather laughed.
"If you are quite sure you won't mind?" she said, tentatively."Well, your place is so beautiful,--even apart from this--this--bower of nymphs,--it is so shadowed with great trees, and so greenwith old turf, that when I saw you this morning walking under thetree, I made up a romance about you,--a pretty little romance. Youare quite sure you don't mind? You were the last of an ancientfamily, and you were very delicate, and your mother kept you inthis lovely solitude, hoping to preserve your precious life. Andnow," she burst into a clear peal of laughter, in which Hildegardejoined heartily, "now I see you near, and you are no more delicatethan I am, and you are not the last of an ancient family. Atleast, I hope you are not," she cried, growing suddenly grave.
"Oh! do you like to make romances?" cried Hildegarde, with readytact waiving the last question. "It is my delight, too. No, I amnot in the least delicate, as you say, and we have only been heretwo years, my mother and I; yet it seems like home, and I hope weshall always live here now. And are you beginning to feel at allsettled in,--I don't know any name for your house; we have calledit just the 'Yellow House' as it had no special interest, beinguninhabited. But I suppose you will give it a name?"
"If we can decide on one!" said Bell Merryweather, laughing. "Thetrouble is, there are so many of us to decide. I want to call itGamboge: brief, you see, and simple. But one boy says it must beChrome Castle, and another votes for Topaz Tower; so I don't knowhow it will end."
"When I was a little girl," said Hildegarde, "I had a book, thedearest little book, called 'Pumpkin House.' It was about--"
"Oh, DID you have 'Pumpkin House?'" cried Bell Merryweather,eagerly. "Oh! wasn't it a darling? And didn't you think you nevercould be perfectly happy till you could live in a pumpkin? And tothink of my forgetting it now, just when the opportunity has come!Of course we shall call the new home Pumpkin House!"
"Will the others like it?" asked Hildegarde.
"They'd better!" said Bell. "And they will, of course. It was onlybecause we had not found the right name that we did not agree.Thank you so much, Miss Grahame! Oh, I must go now, for I havefifty thousand things to do! But,--I am so glad to have met you."
"And I to know you," cried Hildegarde, warmly. "I hope we shallsee a great deal of each other. We shall come to call in due form,as soon as you are ready to receive visitors. But meanwhile, allowme to present you with the freedom of the fence and of the Ladies'Garden. See! our two boys are deep in confidences already."
In truth, the black head and the red one were laid close together,and the two round faces wore the same look of deep importance.
"Mine are green and white," said Will. "That is Austrian, but Ihave them Crusaders a good deal of the time."
"Mine are blue," said Hugh, "and sometimes they are Americans, andsometimes they are Greeks and Trojans. Will you be my friend, andshall we fight great fights together?"
"All right," said Will Merryweather, shyly.
"We will plan a campaign," cried Hugh, his eyes shining withardour.
"Yes; but now you must come in to your music lesson," saidHildegarde, taking his hand, and frowning at herself for feelinganother little pang, as Hugh's face turned toward his newacquaintance.
"Read the Talisman?" cried Will. "I'll be Saladin, and you beRichard."
"Come along, Will," said his sister, taking him by the shouldersand marching him toward the fence.
"Lots of sand that will do for Palestine!" "Plains of Marathonover beyond the stone wall!" "Turbans and lances!" "Horsetailhelmets and real armour!"
Still shouting, Will was pitched bodily over the fence by hisstalwart sister, while Hugh went away holding Hildegarde's hand,and looking backward as he passed.
"We will fight!" he said, giving a little leap of joy. "Our necksshall be clothed with thunder, and we shall say, 'Ha! ha!' amongthe trumpets. And will you bind my wounds, Beloved?" he added,looking up in
Hildegarde's face. "And will you give me my shield,and tell me to come back with it or upon it? Will you do that? Thecover of the washboiler will do beautifully for a shield."
"So it will!" said Hildegarde; and they went into the housetogether.