Beyond the City - Page 1/92

"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 listlessly awaiting the return of the driver.