Beyond the City | Page 4

our
duty to be as polite to them as to the others."
"Most certainly," acquiesced her sister.
"Since we have called upon Mrs. Hay Denver and upon the Misses
Walker, we must call upon this Mrs. Westmacott also."
"Certainly, dear. As long as they are living upon our land I feel as if
they were in a sense our guests, and that it is our duty to welcome
them."
"Then we shall call to-morrow," said Bertha, with decision.
"Yes, dear, we shall. But, oh, I wish it was over!"
At four o'clock on the next day, the two maiden ladies set off upon their
hospitable errand. In their stiff, crackling dresses of black silk, with
jet-bespangled jackets, and little rows of cylindrical grey curls drooping
down on either side of their black bonnets, they looked like two old
fashion plates which had wandered off into the wrong decade. Half
curious and half fearful, they knocked at the door of number three,

which was instantly opened by a red-headed page-boy.
Yes, Mrs. Westmacott was at home. He ushered them into the front
room, furnished as a drawing-room, where in spite of the fine spring
weather a large fire was burning in the grate. The boy took their cards,
and then, as they sat down together upon a settee, he set their nerves in
a thrill by darting behind a curtain with a shrill cry, and prodding at
something with his foot. The bull pup which they had seen upon the
day before bolted from its hiding-place, and scuttled snarling from the
room.
"It wants to get at Eliza," said the youth, in a confidential whisper.
"Master says she would give him more'n he brought." He smiled
affably at the two little stiff black figures, and departed in search of his
mistress.
"What--what did he say?" gasped Bertha.
"Something about a---- Oh, goodness gracious! Oh, help, help, help,
help, help!" The two sisters had bounded on to the settee, and stood
there with staring eyes and skirts gathered in, while they filled the
whole house with their yells. Out of a high wicker-work basket which
stood by the fire there had risen a flat diamond-shaped head with
wicked green eyes which came flickering upwards, waving gently from
side to side, until a foot or more of glossy scaly neck was visible.
Slowly the vicious head came floating up, while at every oscillation a
fresh burst of shrieks came from the settee.
"What in the name of mischief!" cried a voice, and there was the
mistress of the house standing in the doorway. Her gaze at first had
merely taken in the fact that two strangers were standing screaming
upon her red plush sofa. A glance at the fireplace, however, showed her
the cause of the terror, and she burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
"Charley," she shouted, "here's Eliza misbehaving again."
"I'll settle her," answered a masculine voice, and the young man dashed
into the room. He had a brown horse-cloth in his hand, which he threw

over the basket, making it fast with a piece of twine so as to effectually
imprison its inmate, while his aunt ran across to reassure her visitors.
"It is only a rock snake," she explained.
"Oh, Bertha!" "Oh, Monica!" gasped the poor exhausted gentlewomen.
"She's hatching out some eggs. That is why we have the fire. Eliza
always does better when she is warm. She is a sweet, gentle creature,
but no doubt she thought that you had designs upon her eggs. I suppose
that you did not touch any of them?"
"Oh, let us get away, Bertha!" cried Monica, with her thin,
black-gloved hands thrown forwards in abhorrence.
"Not away, but into the next room," said Mrs. Westmacott, with the air
of one whose word was law. "This way, if you please! It is less warm
here." She led the way into a very handsomely appointed library, with
three great cases of books, and upon the fourth side a long yellow table
littered over with papers and scientific instruments. "Sit here, and you,
there," she continued. "That is right. Now let me see, which of you is
Miss Williams, and which Miss Bertha Williams?"
"I am Miss Williams," said Monica, still palpitating, and glancing
furtively about in dread of some new horror.
"And you live, as I understand, over at the pretty little cottage. It is very
nice of you to call so early. I don't suppose that we shall get on, but still
the intention is equally good." She crossed her legs and leaned her back
against the marble mantelpiece.
"We thought that perhaps we might be of some assistance," said Bertha,
timidly. "If there is anything which we could do to make you feel more
at home----"
"Oh, thank you, I am too