Beyond the City

Beyond the City

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beyond the City, by Arthur Conan
Doyle #7 in our series by Arthur Conan Doyle
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Title: Beyond the City
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Release Date: November, 1995 [EBook #356] [This file was last
updated on March 28, 2003]

Edition: 11
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEYOND
THE CITY ***

Updated by David Widger from the 1995 edition of Michael Hart
Additional proofreading by Trevor Carlson

BEYOND THE CITY.


CHAPTER I.
THE NEW-COMERS.
"If you please, mum," said the voice of a domestic from somewhere
round the angle of the door, "number three is moving in."
Two little old ladies, who were sitting at either side of a table, sprang to
their feet with ejaculations of interest, and rushed to the window of the
sitting-room.
"Take care, Monica dear," said one, shrouding herself in the lace
curtain; "don't let them see us.
"No, no, Bertha. We must not give them reason to say that their
neighbors are inquisitive. But I think that we are safe if we stand like
this."
The open window looked out upon a sloping lawn, well trimmed and
pleasant, with fuzzy rosebushes and a star-shaped bed of sweet-william.
It was bounded by a low wooden fence, which screened it off from a
broad, modern, new metaled road. At the other side of this road were

three large detached deep-bodied villas with peaky eaves and small
wooden balconies, each standing in its own little square of grass and of
flowers. All three were equally new, but numbers one and two were
curtained and sedate, with a human, sociable look to them; while
number three, with yawning door and unkempt garden, had apparently
only just received its furniture and made itself ready for its occupants.
A four- wheeler had driven up to the gate, and it was at this that the old
ladies, peeping out bird-like from behind their curtains, directed an
eager and questioning gaze.
The cabman had descended, and the passengers within were handing
out the articles which they desired him to carry up to the house. He
stood red- faced and blinking, with his crooked arms outstretched,
while a male hand, protruding from the window, kept piling up upon
him a series of articles the sight of which filled the curious old ladies
with bewilderment.
"My goodness me!" cried Monica, the smaller, the drier, and the more
wizened of the pair. "What do you call that, Bertha? It looks to me like
four batter puddings."
"Those are what young men box each other with," said Bertha, with a
conscious air of superior worldly knowledge.
"And those?"
Two great bottle-shaped pieces of yellow shining wood had been
heaped upon the cabman.
"Oh, I don't know what those are," confessed Bertha. Indian clubs had
never before obtruded themselves upon her peaceful and very feminine
existence.
These mysterious articles were followed, however, by others which
were more within their, range of comprehension--by a pair of
dumb-bells, a purple cricket-bag, a set of golf clubs, and a tennis racket.
Finally, when the cabman, all top-heavy and bristling, had staggered
off up the garden path, there emerged in a very leisurely way from the

cab a big, powerfully built young man, with a bull pup under one arm
and a pink sporting paper in his hand. The paper he crammed into the
pocket of his light yellow dust-coat, and extended his hand as if to
assist some one else from the vehicle. To the surprise of the two old
ladies, however, the only thing which his open palm received was a
violent slap, and a tall lady bounded unassisted out of the cab. With a
regal wave she motioned the young man towards the door, and then
with one hand upon her hip she stood in a careless, lounging attitude by
the gate, kicking her toe against the wall and