Hildegardes Neighbors | Page 2

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