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Page 4
CHAPTER II.
OLD FRIENDS AND NEW.
It did indeed seem that the advent of the new neighbours might
make a great difference in Hildegarde Grahame's life, if, as she
hoped, they were the right kind of neighbours. She was an only
child. 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 in
her life; but her mother often longed for another daughter, or a
pleasant girl in the neighbourhood, to be a companion for her dear
one. True, Hildegarde had one young friend, Hugh Allen, the ward
of Colonel Ferrers, their kind and eccentric neighbour; but Hugh,
though a darling, was a little boy, and could not "dovetail" into
a girl's life as another girl might. Perhaps Mrs. Grahame hardly
realized how completely she herself filled Hildegarde's idea of a
friend and companion. The daughter was enough for her; her own
life seemed full and running over with joy and work; but for the
child she wanted always more and more. So her hopes, as well as
Hildegarde's, rose high when she heard of the pleasant-looking
girls 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 tall
columns and broad piazza. The house was yellow, the columns white,
and the cheerful colours were set off by the dark trees, elms and
locusts, that bent over it and almost hid it from the road. A
smooth stretch of lawn lay between the house and the hedge,
through which Hildegarde and the Colonel had made their
observations: a good lawn for tennis, Hildegarde thought. How good
it would be to play tennis again! She had been longing for the
time when Hugh would be big enough to learn, or when Jack Ferrers,
her cousin, would come back from Germany. How surprised Jack would
be when she wrote him that the yellow house was inhabited. What
friends he might make of those two nice-looking boys, unless he
took 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 toward
the Ladies' Garden, on the day after the new arrival. This was a
favourite haunt of hers, and she was very apt to go there for a
season of meditation, or when she wanted to find Hugh. It was a
curious place,--an old, neglected, forgotten garden, with high,
unclipped box hedges, overhung by whispering larches. Hildegarde
had dreamed many a dream under those larches, sitting beside the
little stream that plashed and fell in a tiny rocky hollow, or
pacing up and down the grassy paths. For the child Hugh, too, this
place had a singular fascination, and he would hang for hours over
a certain still, brown pool at the foot of the garden, thinking
unutterable things, occasionally making a remark to his dog, but
for the most part silent. Knowing his ways, Hildegarde was the
more surprised, on this occasion, to hear the sound of voices in
lively conversation. Whom could the boy have picked up and brought
here? He had no friend of his own age; like herself, he was a lone
child; and it was with a little pang, which she almost laughed to
feel, that she drew near, and softly parted the branches that hung
between her and the pool. The first step was fatal, she thought,
and she was apparently condemned to be a peeper and an
eavesdropper for the rest of her days.
Hugh was sitting beside the pool, but not in his favourite
Narcissus-like attitude. His knees were well up in front of him,
his hands were clasped over them, and facing him, in precisely the
same position, was a boy in blue jean overalls, with a shock of
black 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."
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