THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE 
 
 OF 
 
 LOS 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 CALIFORNIA 
 ANGELES
 
 oor
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR 
 NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 A STORY FOR CHILDREN. 
 
 STELLA AUSTIN, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "STUMPS," "SOMEBODY," "RAGS AND TATTERS, 
 " PAT," ETC. 
 
 LONDON : 
 J. MASTERS AND CO., 78, NEW BOND STREET. 
 
 MDCCCLXXXI.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 J. MASTEKS AND CO , PRINTERS, 
 ALBION BUILDINGS. BARTHOLOMEW CLOSE, B.C.
 
 TZ.7 
 
 prbuattb 
 TO THE VERY DEAR GRANNIE OF EIGHTY-THREE, 
 
 MRS. EDWARD MAINWARING, 
 
 WITH A GREAT DEAL OF LOVE, 
 
 AND AN EARNEST HOPE THAT SHE MAY LIVE FOR MANY YEARS YET 
 
 TO BE A SOURCE OF HAPPINESS TO US WHO LOVE HER, 
 
 AND TO SHOW TO ALL WHO COME NEAR HER, 
 
 HOW SWEET AND GOOD AND LOVELY 
 
 OLD AGE CAN BE.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I. WHO TOLD THE STORY I 
 
 II. THE COUNTRY AND A Cow 5 
 
 III. WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR . . . .23 
 
 IV. FROM THE TOP OF THE WALL .... 44 
 
 V. A COUPLE OK CHATTERING MAGPIES . . .60 
 
 VI. LOOKING IN 7 2 
 
 VII. IT is ALL A'TWEEN us \8; 
 
 VIII. UNDER THREE UMBRELLAS 107 
 
 IX. GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY . . .116 
 
 X. FROM THE HOLE IN THE HEDGE .... 134 
 
 XI. MOLLY, SIBYL, AND PRINCE CHARMING . . .144 
 
 XII. THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR . . . 157 
 
 XIII. GRANNIE'S VERY OLD FRIEND 178 
 
 XIV. GETTING BACK 193 
 
 XV. JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS 207
 
 to 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 WHO TOLD THE STORY. 
 
 '"THHIS is a story the fairies told me. Just as 
 they told it to me do I tell it to you word 
 for word. 
 
 It is very nice to be a favourite of the fairies, 
 and to have stories told you. In the first place, it 
 is pleasant to hear the stories ; and in the second 
 place, if people find fault with them, say they are 
 too long or too short, too improbable or very dull, 
 then you can shrug your shoulders and say, " I 
 
 B
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 have nothing to do with that, the fairies told it 
 to me" 
 
 If you want to hear the fairies' stories you must 
 feel well, I don't quite know how to express it, 
 but I think the only word that means what I want 
 to say is a pretty Scotch word eerie. And the 
 eerie feeling, so far as I can describe it, is just this. 
 
 First, you must feel a tiny bit sad, I was going 
 to say, but perhaps pensive would be better. Then 
 you must sit down in a very large, comfortable, 
 softly-cushioned chair, and you must not think 
 about anything. You must try not even to think 
 whether you are thinking. Then open your ears 
 wide, and shut your eyes tight, and after awhile 
 you will hear a distant booming sound, much the 
 same noise the insects make when they chatter 
 together in the lime trees in the early summer 
 days ; just a lazy, muffled, humming noise. This 
 is the fairies bringing the story to you. 
 
 Then when they get quite close to you, you hear 
 nothing but the story which they pour into your
 
 WHO TOLD THE STORY. 
 
 ears. They are such tiny people, and they have 
 such tiny voices, that it takes hundreds of them, 
 speaking all together, before the story can reach 
 your ears. But they never get out of tune or time, 
 and all their voices though they speak so many 
 at once, are only like the chiming of a lovely silver 
 bell, 
 
 Ding, Ding, 
 
 Ding, Ding, 
 Ding, Ding, 
 
 Dong. 
 
 And so the story goes on. 
 
 This is a useful thing to know, is it not ? For 
 if you are dull or low-spirited, or want amusing, all 
 you have to do is to lie back in an easy chair and 
 coax the eerie feeling to come to you. When once 
 you feel eerie the story will soon begin. 
 
 And if you do not succeed the first time, do 
 not give it up. Perhaps the fairies have been 
 unusually busy, have used up all their stories, and 
 are making fresh ones. Remember the useful little 
 rhyme,
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " 'Tis a lesson you should heed, 
 
 Try, try, try again ; 
 If at first you don't succeed, 
 Try, try, try again." 
 
 I feel the eerieness creeping over me and a far- 
 off humming in my ears. Now the patter of tiny 
 feet and the faint sweet chiming of their voices, the 
 
 Ding, Ding, 
 
 Ding, Ding, 
 Ding, Ding, 
 
 Dong, 
 
 like a silver bell. The story is coming, coming, 
 coming ; fast, faster, faster. Do you want to hear 
 it ? Hush ! You must be very quiet, not talk even 
 in whispers, or you will drive the fairies away. 
 Listen !
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE COUNTRY AND A COW. 
 
 " /^ERISETTE," says a sad little voice. 
 
 * ' " Yes, Master Arthur, here I am, dear. Do 
 you want me ?" 
 
 " It is very hot to-day, isn't it ? and my head 
 aches," says the sad voice, with a sigh at the end 
 of it. 
 
 " What shall I do for you, my dear one ?" says 
 Cerisette, a nice-looking French maid, sitting down 
 upon a low chair by Arthur's side, and arranging 
 the cushions of his couch more comfortably. 
 " There, that is better, is it not ? And now I will 
 dip this soft handkerchief in eau-de-Cologne and
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 water, and lay it across your poor aching fore- 
 head, and fan you with this large Chinese fan. 
 What a beautiful air it makes this warm day. 
 Is it not doing your head good already, Master 
 Arthur ?" 
 
 " Yes, thank you, Cerisette, it does feel as if it 
 was getting better," says Arthur, gratefully ; then 
 he shuts his eyes, and Cerisette, thinking he may 
 be dropping off to sleep, fans him softly, and is 
 silent. 
 
 The place is a big room in a big house in the 
 big town of London, and the time is about four 
 o'clock in the afternoon. The sun, who has tra- 
 velled a great many miles to-day, has turned his 
 bright face round, and is looking straight in at the 
 windows. That is, he would be looking straight in 
 if it were not for the red and white sun-blinds 
 which are drawn closely down, and which he finds 
 rather in his way. It is not every one who can 
 bear the sun to look them in the face in summer, 
 when he is so very hot and bright, and little Arthur
 
 THE COUNTRY AND A COW. 
 
 with his headache and his tiredness, must have the 
 room kept as dark as possible. 
 
 The minutes pass. There is no sound heard but 
 the roll of a carriage now and then, and the silvery 
 chiming of the clock upon the mantlepiece. It has 
 just chimed half-past four when Arthur opens his 
 eyes. 
 
 " My headache is much better, Cerisette," he 
 says. " I need not have the handkerchief again. 
 And please do not fan me any more, or it will 
 make your hand ache." 
 
 " Nothing ever tires me that I can do for you, 
 Master Arthur," answers Cerisette. " But I wish 
 you could grow stronger and better, my poor little 
 one. It makes my heart ache and ache to watch 
 you as you lie, so white and tired. But there ! I 
 must not talk like this. If the good GOD pleases, 
 I hope I shall soon see the day when you have a 
 fine colour in your pale cheeks, and can run about 
 and shout and dance with other children." 
 
 Arthur does not answer, except by a sad smile,
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 which makes the tears start into Cerisette's black 
 eyes. She brushes them away hastily with the 
 back of her hand before Arthur has time to notice 
 them, and then she says cheerfully, 
 
 " But you do not know the news, my little one : 
 the news your papa told me this morning. There 
 is a gentleman visitor coming to see you this after- 
 noon." 
 
 " Do you mean a doctor ?" asks Arthur. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " So many doctors have come," says Arthur 
 dolefully, "and they always look at me and say, 
 ' Poor little fellow.' Then they thump me on the 
 back and front with a trumpet, and then they give 
 me some nasty medicine to take. But they never 
 make me feel any better. I wish this one was not 
 coming, Cerisette. I am so tired of being looked 
 at. If I begged Father very much indeed not to 
 let him come, do you think Father would mind ?" 
 
 " Yes, I am sure Mr. Adair would mind a great 
 deal," says Cerisette decidedly. " For this morning
 
 THE COUNTRY AND A COW. 
 
 when he told me of it his face brightened all over, 
 and he said, ' I have great faith in this gentleman, 
 Cerisette, and I really think he will do my boy 
 good, perhaps make him quite well and strong.' 
 Those are your papa's very words, dear Master 
 Arthur. I kept them in my memory that I might 
 repeat them to you word for word as he said 
 them." 
 
 Arthur sighs. " I wonder what he will be like," 
 he says. 
 
 " Who can tell ?" answers Cerisette cheerfully. 
 " But if we are patient we shall soon see. The 
 clock has just chimed the quarter to five. After 
 it has chimed again he will be here." 
 
 " I wonder," says Arthur dreamily, " if he will be 
 short and wear spectacles like the doctor who came 
 last I don't like spectacles, it is just as if four 
 eyes were looking at you instead of two." 
 
 " No, no," says Cerisette. " Not another doctor 
 with spectacles, oh, no. One of those is quite 
 enough."
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " But perhaps he will have a big voice and talk 
 very loud, the same as the doctor who came upon 
 my birthday," says Arthur plaintively. " Do you 
 remember, Cerisette?" 
 
 " Do I not ?" says Cerisette fondly. " Is there 
 anything that happens to my poor dear lamb that 
 I do not remember ? It gave you a headache and 
 spoilt your birthday. But this gentleman will be 
 different, we will hope. Ah ! There is a carriage 
 stopping at the door. These gentlemen doctors 
 are so punctual, for it is only just upon the stroke 
 of five. Now listen, Master Arthur, and soon you 
 will hear their footsteps coming up the stairs." 
 
 There is no need to bid Arthur to listen, for a 
 light of pleasure steals over his face, and his lips 
 curve into a happy smile as, with one finger pressed 
 upon them, he turns his face round. This is the 
 hour to which Arthur's thoughts turn from the 
 time that his father leaves home in the morning, 
 for this is the hour which Mr. Adair never fails, 
 however he may be engaged, to devote to his little
 
 THE COUNTRY AND A COW. 11 
 
 son. The footsteps come nearer, the door is 
 thrown open, and Arthur, with a smothered cry of 
 joy, twines his arms closely round his father's neck 
 and draws down the dear face that he may cover 
 it with kisses. Then, with a sigh of great content, 
 he lays his curly yellow head upon his father's 
 broad shoulder, and caresses his cheek with a small 
 white hand. 
 
 " Arthur," says Mr. Adair, after a moment's 
 pause, " I have brought a gentleman, a friend of 
 mine, to see you." 
 
 Arthur has entirely forgotten there is any one 
 else in the room save his father ; but now that he 
 remembers, he raises himself, and holds out his 
 hand to be shaken. Then as he falls back among 
 his cushions, he looks at the stranger earnestly and 
 gravely. 
 
 He need have no fear of the spectacles, for the 
 eyes that meet his are as brown and bright as his 
 own ; and the voice that reaches his ear is as gentle, 
 and quiet, and kind as a woman's should be.
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " It is curious, is it not," says the new doctor, 
 " that you and I should have the same Christian 
 name ?" 
 
 "Are they the same?" says Arthur, roused to 
 interest. 
 
 " Yes. You are Arthur Adair, and I am Arthur 
 Courtney." 
 
 " How funny !" says Arthur ; " and I was not 
 named after Father, you know. I was called 
 Arthur after a good King who lived a great many 
 years ago ; and Father is very fond of the poetry 
 some one has written about him. Have you 
 read it?" 
 
 "Yes," answers the doctor absently. Then he 
 straightens himself, for he has been bending over 
 Arthur, and his eyes sweep for one instant round 
 the room. 
 
 He sees what a beautiful room it is, and how 
 everything has been thought of that could give 
 pleasure to Arthur. The walls are covered with 
 lovely paintings, the windows are filled with sweet,
 
 THE COUNTRY AND A COW. 13 
 
 growing flowers, the chairs and sofas are cushioned 
 with soft cushions which invite you, by their very 
 look, to sit down and rest upon them. In one 
 corner stands a rocking-horse as large as a small 
 Shetland pony, and from the bookcases story- 
 books in gay bindings show their faces. A large 
 table is covered by a Fort with hundreds of soldiers 
 in different uniforms, and tiny cannons that go off 
 almost as well as real ones, better perhaps, be- 
 cause though they give a splendid bang, and smoke 
 real smoke, they do not kill or hurt anybody. 
 Upon the floor lies a Noah's Ark, and the animals 
 carved out of ivory are in a heap beside it. 
 
 And the doctor's eyes from roving round the 
 room come back to the little man upon the sofa, 
 whose curly yellow head rests so quiet, and whose 
 brown eyes are so pathetically asking for some- 
 thing that will do him good, and make him like 
 other children. Then, for a few minutes, the doc- 
 tor stands quite still and looks at him. 
 
 But in these few minutes he is learning a great
 
 14 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 deal about Arthur. Nobody speaks, Arthur and 
 his father are both silent, but there is a wonderful 
 fairy, whose name you must guess, and she whis- 
 pers to the doctor the story of Arthur's life. 
 
 She tells him that Arthur has lived for seven 
 years in that big house with no other playfellow 
 than Cerisette, for his mother died when he was 
 quite a baby. His father loves him dearly, but 
 he is a grave, busy man, and he can only spare a 
 few hours out of the whole long day, to be with 
 his little son. Arthur has every toy he wishes 
 for and that money can buy, but he has no one to 
 share them with him, no brother, sister, or friends 
 to help him make merry over his games, and he 
 soon grew tired of inventing games with only him- 
 self to play them. It is such dreary work playing 
 by oneself, just to amuse oneself, there is no fun 
 to be got out of it. So, after his hour's lessons 
 with his father in the morning are over, Arthur has 
 fallen into the habit of doing nothing but lie upon 
 the sofa and look forward to his father's return at
 
 THE COUNTRY AND A COW. 15 
 
 five o'clock in the afternoon. When it is fine he 
 rides, or drives, or walks, but he only goes out 
 because Father wishes it, and he always does what 
 Father tells him. And he is very glad to get 
 home again, to nestle down among his cushions 
 and wonder if it is nearly time for Father to be 
 back. 
 
 Not any of the gay people in the parks, not the 
 pretty flowers that grow there, nor the shops full 
 of things they pass on their road to and fro, ever 
 win a smile or a look from Arthur. He is a little 
 snail curled snugly round in his own shell, and 
 not even putting out a horn to see if anybody is 
 near him or not. GOD never meant people to think 
 about themselves all day long, to live altogether 
 for themselves as if there was no one else in the 
 world. First, we should think of GOD, how to love 
 Him and please Him. Next, we should think of 
 other people, what we can do that will be kind to 
 them and help them. Last of all, if there is any 
 time left, we can think of ourselves. It is very
 
 16 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 hard this, hard even for grown-up people, but the 
 more you try to follow this plan while you are 
 children, the easier it will be for you by-and-by 
 as the years roll on, and you find yourselves grow- 
 ing old. 
 
 But it is not quite Arthur's fault that he has curled 
 himself round in his shell. He tries very hard to 
 be a good little boy, and do everything his father 
 tells him ; and GOD, Who has been thinking a 
 great deal about him, is going to show him the 
 way to get out of his shell, and to be of use to 
 other people. 
 
 And every minute the doctor has been thinking 
 these thoughts Arthur has been watching him very 
 closely watching to see his hand go into his 
 pocket, and bring out the trumpet which he knows 
 so well, and has seen so often. 
 
 This doctor, however, does nothing of the kind. 
 When he has been silent a while he sits down by 
 Arthur's side, and takes his thin white hand into 
 the grasp of his firm, strong fingers.
 
 THE COUNTRY AND A COW. 17 
 
 " Now, little man," he says cheerfully, " I hope 
 we shall have you bonny and well in a few weeks. 
 But I am going to give you a funny kind of medi- 
 cine." 
 
 " Will it be very nasty ?" asks Arthur dolefully ; 
 " I have had so much nasty medicine." 
 
 " That just depends upon yourself whether you 
 call it nasty or not. / should like it." 
 
 " What is it ?" asks Arthur. 
 
 " That you must find out for yourself. It is a 
 riddle. I am going to order you into the country. 
 Not to any part of the country, for that would do 
 you no good, but to a particular part of the country 
 where I know of a nice house to be let. There is 
 a pretty garden and an orchard with an Alderney 
 cow grazing in it. The cow can be had with the 
 house, and I want you to run about in the garden 
 and drink plenty of new milk and cream. There 
 are two C's for you. Country and cow. You will 
 remember those ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," says Arthur. " But is that the medi- 
 C
 
 i8 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 cine ? You said it was a riddle, and that is so 
 easy Country and Cow !" 
 
 " You will not find the medicine until you get 
 there," says the doctor. " It is a particular kind of 
 medicine, and can only be got where I am sending 
 you." 
 
 " Does it grow in the garden ?" inquires Arthur, 
 with great interest. 
 
 " It does not grow in any garden, though it is 
 not very far off," says the doctor. " But that is all 
 I shall tell you now, the rest you will find out when 
 you are there." 
 
 " And you really think it will do him good ?" asks 
 Mr. Adair. 
 
 " I am as sure of it as we can be of anything in 
 this world," says the doctor decidedly. " I will talk 
 it over with you by-and-by. The place of which I 
 am thinking is not far from Town an hour by 
 rail, not more. That will suit you, will it not ?" 
 
 " Perfectly," answers Mr. Adair, " for I shall be 
 able to run down from Saturday to Monday. Arthur
 
 THE COUNTRY AND A COW. 19 
 
 must go down alone with Cerisette at first, for it 
 will be some few weeks before I can join him alto- 
 gether." 
 
 But Arthur's eyes fill with a sudden rush of tears 
 as he finds he is to be separated from his father, 
 and he holds out his arms in a perfect wail of 
 grief. 
 
 " Oh, Father, Father," he sobs, " do not send me 
 away from you, please do not. I would rather 
 stay here and be ill, than go away and be well if 
 you are not with me." 
 
 " Hush, Arthur !" says Mr. Adair soothingly, yet 
 gravely. " It vexes me very much indeed, more 
 than I can say, to see you so pale, and thin, and 
 tired unlike other children in fact. If it does 
 you good, and if I wish it very much, it will be 
 right for you to go away from me for a little 
 while." 
 
 " Do you wish it very much, Father ?" asks Ar- 
 thur earnestly. 
 
 " Very much indeed, my boy," is the answer.
 
 20 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Then I will go," says Arthur, choking back his 
 tears and smiling a wintry little smile. 
 
 " That is my brave boy," says Mr. Adair, pat- 
 ting the head covered with yellow curls. " I shall 
 be able to run down every Saturday until the Mon- 
 day. And when my holidays come we shall have 
 a nice time of it together." 
 
 " But it will be very dull until then, Father," says 
 Arthur, a wee bit dolefully. 
 
 " Wait until you get there," says the doctor. 
 " After you have tried my medicine you may not 
 find it so dull as you seem to expect." 
 
 " I wonder what your medicine is," says Arthur, 
 smiling in spite of himself. 
 
 " Ah ! it is indeed a puzzle. I do not think you 
 will guess. I shall tell your father, but I shall ask 
 him to keep it a secret." 
 
 " I shall try and guess," says Arthur. 
 
 " Now say good-bye, and go and tell Cerisette 
 the news," says Mr. Adair. 
 
 Arthur not only shakes hands with the doctor,
 
 THE COUNTRY AND A COW. 
 
 but lifts up his face to be kissed, and then goes 
 along the corridor to another room, where Cerisette 
 is preparing his tea. 
 
 "We are going into the country, Cerisette," he 
 says eagerly. " And I am to drink plenty of milk. 
 There is an Alderney cow in the orchard where 
 we are going. I wonder if one of the cows in my 
 Noah's ark is an Alderney, Cerisette." 
 
 " I should think it is," answers Cerisette. " And 
 did he order you any medicine, this new gentleman 
 doctor ?" 
 
 " That is the funny part," says Arthur. " It is a 
 real riddle, Cerisette. He will not tell me what 
 the medicine is, but I am to wait until I get there. 
 It does not grow in the garden, but it is near 
 the garden. I am so anxious to taste it. The 
 doctor says he should like it very much indeed. 
 What can it be ?" 
 
 " Ah ! what can it be ?" says Cerisette, de- 
 lighted at finding the boy so much brighter. " It 
 must be very wonderful medicine, Master Arthur."
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Very," says Arthur. " You can only get it 
 down in that country, Cerisette. I like the new 
 doctor very much indeed." 
 
 " I am very happy," says Cerisette. " Did not I 
 say that perhaps you would, Master Arthur ?" 
 
 " He does not wear spectacles, and he has a kind 
 voice, and he did not thump me with a trumpet. 
 I wish he would come again. I am hungry, and I 
 want my tea badly. Is it nearly ready, Cerisette ?" 
 
 " Quite ready," says Cerisette, beaming upon him, 
 for it is very seldom Arthur ever feels hungry or 
 wants to eat. He generally eats as a duty. 
 
 But I think the snail is beginning to put one of 
 its horns a little way out of its shell. What do you 
 say about it ?
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 T N a pretty village not far from London stand 
 three houses side by side. They are not all 
 the same size, indeed there is so much difference 
 in them that they have been called in fun, " The 
 big bear, the middle-sized bear, and the little 
 bear." 
 
 The big bear is a large red house, built very 
 square, and with a paved courtyard around it. 
 Not much of it can be seen from the roadside, for 
 it is shut in by trees, but peeping over the hedge 
 is a black board with white letters, which tells 
 every one who passes to and fro that " this house 
 is to be let."
 
 24 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 The middle-sized bear is oddly built. At one 
 time it must have been a small house with just a 
 door, a window on each side of it, and three win- 
 dows above. Then people lived in it who did not 
 find it large enough, so they added another story. 
 Then others who came after them added an arm 
 shooting out in one direction, and then a leg, and 
 so on. This makes it much more comfortable 
 inside no doubt, but it gives it, to look at, an un- 
 tidy appearance. The garden is an old-fashioned 
 one, with gravel walks and straight flower borders. 
 At the back of the house is an orchard, and upon 
 the right side a smooth closely-shaven lawn slopes 
 down to a tiny river, which on fine sunshiny days 
 looks like a silver ribbon winding in and out of 
 the fresh green grass. 
 
 And squeezed in between these two large houses 
 is a long low cottage, with a verandah running all 
 round it. This is the little bear. But though 
 small, it is not to be despised, for it is prettier than 
 either of its grander neighbours. There is a path
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 25 
 
 leading up to it, and over this a trellis work has 
 been raised, and roses of every colour and shade 
 have been coaxed to twine themselves round about 
 it, and form a beautiful covered archway, which in 
 summer time is perfectly lovely. It is just as 
 though somebody was being married every day 
 to walk up this path and have the roses showering 
 their blossoms upon you, dark red satiny leaves, 
 shining creamy ones, pale pink, bright pink, flam- 
 ing crimson, rich yellow, and some as white and 
 soft as drifting flakes of snow you crush them 
 under your feet as you go along. 
 
 Then the garden is so full of flowers that it is 
 difficult to know which to pick, and which to leave. 
 You come upon such pretty surprises too, for there 
 are little wooden and wicker chairs so cunningly 
 arranged under drooping branches of trees, that 
 you do not see them until you find yourself nearly 
 sitting down in them. Jacob, the old gardener, is 
 very proud of this garden. He says it is " like a 
 picter what has a good many sides to it."
 
 26 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 Though these three houses are sometimes called 
 for fun "The Three Bears," yet they have three 
 real names belonging to them. 
 
 The big bear is The Red House. 
 
 The middle-sized bear is Riverside. 
 
 The little bear is Shadic Cottage. 
 
 And now to go on with the story. 
 
 It is one of the longest days in the year, and the 
 sun has made up his mind to have a very good 
 time, and not to go to sleep until he is obliged. 
 He is shining now, though it is past seven o'clock, 
 almost as gaily as he did in the middle of the day. 
 The birds are singing so loud, the roses smelling 
 so sweet, it seems very hard to have to go in-doors 
 such a lovely evening as this. 
 
 That is just what two little girls think who are 
 sitting in one of those cosy seats at Shadie Cot- 
 tage. When the clock strikes half-past seven they 
 ought to be preparing for bed, and it is not far off 
 half-past seven now. 
 
 The eldest of these two little sisters is seven
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 27 
 
 years old. She is short for her age, and very 
 plump. Her face is round and rosy, a pair of 
 large, roguish, dark blue eyes shining out of it, 
 and fair hair waving lightly over her forehead and 
 nearly falling into her eyes. 
 
 Sibyl, more than two years younger than Molly, 
 is taller for her age and much slighter. Her face 
 is thinner, and her eyes instead of being blue are a 
 shadowy green. Her hair is several shades darker 
 than her sister's, and curls in natural curls over her 
 neck and shoulders. 
 
 They are both dressed alike in brown-hollands 
 with broad crimson sashes, and their heads and 
 necks are well covered by two large sun-bon- 
 nets, which protect them from the sun. They 
 are out so much all day long that these are quite 
 necessary. 
 
 For some time these two sisters have been sit- 
 ting hand-in-hand, both their faces turned towards 
 Riverside. The chimneys and the upper windows 
 are all they can see of it from where they sit, for a
 
 28 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 grey stone wall divides their garden from their 
 neighbour's. 
 
 " It is just one, two, three, four, five," says Molly, 
 counting upon four fingers and a thumb of a very 
 plump hand. " It just one two three four, is 
 it four or is it five days, Sibyl, since the man took 
 away the board with 'This house to be let' written 
 upon it?" 
 
 " It is five days," answers Sibyl, " one, two, three, 
 four, five." 
 
 " I think it is only four," says Molly. " Let us 
 go back and count them. There was the day the 
 man fetched away the board, that is one : then 
 there was the day that old Mrs. Grey's dog broke 
 his leg, that is two : then there was the day that 
 little Tim fell into the water when he was getting 
 watercress for tea, that is three : then there was the 
 day that Uncle Edward's letter came to say he was 
 coming himself, that is four : then there is to-day, 
 and that makes five. But Sibyl, are you quite sure 
 Jacob said that the people were coming to-day ?"
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 29 
 
 " Quite sure, sister," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Why didn't you ask him what time they were 
 coming, and who they were, and what they were 
 like, and all about them ?" says Molly. 
 
 " 'Cause he said he couldn't answer any more 
 kestons," says Sibyl, with a pout. " He was 
 dreadfully c'oss." 
 
 " He is often cross," says Molly quietly. " Gran- 
 nie says it's his complaint that makes him cross. 
 I never can remember the name of Jacob's 
 complaint. It is something that begins with a 
 donkey." 
 
 " I don't 'member the name," says Sibyl. " But 
 do you think it is his complaint what coughs so 
 quare, sister ?" 
 
 " Grannie says so," answers Molly. 
 
 " I hear wheels !" exclaims Sibyl, holding up a 
 thin, sunburnt hand. " The next door neighbours 
 are coming, sister, let us go and meet them." 
 
 They are off their seats in a second and hurry- 
 ing down the rose path, treading the sweet leaves
 
 30 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 under their feet as they bound along, while a fresh 
 shower are shaken upon their sun-bonnets and 
 pitter-patter down upon them like great drops of 
 rain. 
 
 Molly and Sibyl are breathless when they reach 
 the gate. They fling it wide open and rush out 
 just in time to see a farmer's gig coming along at 
 a slow trot. 
 
 " Oh ! It's Farmer Morton's night," says Molly. 
 ' Why, I quite forgot !" 
 
 " So did I," says Sibyl. " Wouldn't he be sorry, 
 sister, if he knew we had quite forgotten him ?" 
 
 "We were thinking so much about our next 
 door neighbours," says Molly. 
 
 " Good evening, little ladies," and Farmer Mor- 
 ton pulls up his horse. " And how are you this 
 lovely evening ?" 
 
 " Quite well, thank you. Are you quite well ?" 
 they chime in both together. 
 
 " Very hearty indeed, thank you, little ladies," 
 answers Farmer Morton. Then giving a mysterious
 
 PAGE 31.
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 31 
 
 nod, he says in a whisper, " Do you know what 
 day it is to-day ?" 
 
 " Midsummer Eve," shout the sisters with one 
 voice. 
 
 " The day when the fairies are very busy," says 
 the farmer. 
 
 " Is it only to-day they are busy ?" interrupts 
 Sibyl. 
 
 " They are more or less busy all the year round," 
 answers Farmer Morton. 
 
 " Only to-night they wisit at each others' houses 
 and give a grand party, and have a great deal of 
 fun," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Well, they are very fond of making presents 
 on Midsummer Eve to people they like," says the 
 farmer. " And as I was passing by they gave me 
 these presents to give to you," and Farmer Morton 
 pulls out of his pocket four parcels, two of which 
 he hands to Molly and two to Sibyl. 
 
 " It is so kind of the fairies," says Sibyl, dancing 
 in a high state of glee, while Molly adds, " We
 
 32 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 ought to say ' thank you very much' to them. 
 Shall you see them on your way home, Farmer 
 Morton ?" 
 
 " Well, they might be somewhere about," answers 
 the farmer. 
 
 " Then please thank them very much," says 
 Molly. 
 
 " And wery much from me," says Sibyl. " Molly 
 would write them a nice letter and I would draw 
 them a pretty picture if we knew where they lived. 
 How should we direct it, Farmer Morton ? and 
 which of the fairies sent these lovely presents ?" 
 
 " Oh they don't like to be thanked," says Farmer 
 Morton, flourishing his whip as if he were in a 
 hurry. " Nothing offends the fairies so much as 
 thanking them. It doesn't matter which of them 
 it was what gave them, Miss Sibyl. It's all the 
 same as if all the fairies had sent the presents. It's 
 only a trifle." 
 
 " Oh, then they showed it you," says Sibyl. 
 " You know what it is. How tight the fairies tie
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 33 
 
 their parcels," and her little fingers tug at the 
 string. 
 
 " Yes, they are uncommon good at tying up par- 
 cels," says Farmer Morton. " Now, good evening, 
 little ladies. Take care of the dew when it falls, 
 and don't get your feet wet," and he drives away 
 quickly, for he is later than usual to-night, and he 
 has a mother watching for him. 
 
 " The dew is not falling yet," says Molly, holding 
 the dry sole of her shoe so that Sibyl can see. 
 " The sun won't go to sleep for a long time. They 
 have not even begun to get his bed ready, and it 
 takes them a long while to make it properly." 
 
 " There is a bit of red blanket and a corner of 
 a gold sheet," says Sibyl, waving her hand towards 
 the west, where tiny streaks of crimson and amber 
 show themselves. 
 
 " The fairies have sent us such nice presents," 
 says Molly. " Mine is a packet of gingerbread 
 and a workbox. Oh, what a dear little thimble, 
 sister !" 
 
 D
 
 34 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Mine is just the same as yours," says Sibyl, 
 who has managed to pull off the string, " oh, what 
 'licious gingerbread. I wonder how the fairies 
 knew we liked gingerbread. I wonder do you 
 think Farmer Morton told them, Molly ?" 
 
 " Perhaps he did," says Molly, who is too busy 
 to think much about it. 
 
 " What nice needles," said Sibyl. " They have 
 gold eyes to them. Look, sister." 
 
 " I hope that as they are fairy needles they will 
 do my work better, and not prick my finger so 
 much," answers Molly gravely. " Just see, this 
 finger is all red and the skin torn," and she holds 
 out a fat forefinger. 
 
 " Mine is nearly as bad," says Sibyl, as she com- 
 pares her finger with Molly's. 
 
 " It is a good thing the fairies sent us these needles, 
 or we should have worn our fingers to the bone in 
 time," says Molly. 
 
 " That would be drefful" gasps Sibyl ; " why we 
 should be like the man Uncle Edward told us
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 35 
 
 about, who took off his flesh and sat in his bones, 
 only in his bones. Think of that, Molly." 
 
 " But you don't believe that story, do you ?" says 
 Molly. " Why it was only one of Uncle Edward's 
 make-believes, and not a real story. Don't cry, 
 Sibyl. I am a great deal older than you, and I 
 tell you it is not true. These needles are lovely, 
 sister, the fairies sent them on purpose, because 
 they knew the others were nasty and wouldn't 
 work and pricked our fingers. Listen ! there is 
 Maria calling us ! Oh, Sibyl, you run the quickest. 
 Please run in and ask her to let us sit up a wee 
 bit longer. It isn't Midsummer Eve every day." 
 
 " But suppose our next door neighbours come 
 while I am away," says Sibyl lingering, and turn- 
 ing a pair of wistful eyes towards the chimneys of 
 Riverside, from whence the smoke is curling gaily 
 upwards. 
 
 " They won't, if you are very quick," says Molly, 
 " and if they do I'll call rery loud." 
 
 Sibyl lingers for a moment, and then runs off.
 
 36 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 Molly goes back to their two little chairs, where 
 Sibyl soon joins her, red, panting, breathless, but 
 in triumph. 
 
 " Twenty more minutes Maria says we may sit 
 up, but no longer, Molly." 
 
 " That will do nicely," says Molly, settling herself 
 comfortably. " They must come in twenty minutes. 
 And I have thought of such a nice game to play, 
 Sibyl. We will guess what our next door neigh- 
 bours will be like, and we will see who will be most 
 right." 
 
 " I guess they will be a nice old lady and gentle- 
 man, just the same as Mr. and Mrs. Bertram who 
 had us in to tea so often, and loved us so much," 
 cries Sibyl eagerly. 
 
 " What beautiful cakes they gave us," says Molly. 
 
 " And such 'licious strawberries and cream," says 
 Sibyl. 
 
 " Those were such happy days," says Molly, 
 shaking her head mournfully, " and such a long 
 time ago. Two whole weeks, Sibyl ! And the man
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 37 
 
 was so unkind he would lock the gates, and we 
 couldn't even get in to stroke the dear cow and tell 
 her we were so sorry that her master and mistress 
 were gone." 
 
 " I hope the new master and mistress will be 
 wery kind to the dear cow," says Sibyl. " Now, 
 Molly, I have had my guess, and it is your turn." 
 
 " I guess they will be a tall lady and gentleman 
 with twenty little boys, some of them littler than 
 we are, some of them bigger, and some of them the 
 same size," says Molly boldly. 
 
 " Twenty !" says Sibyl. " Oh, Molly, what made 
 you think of such a great many, and why didn't 
 you make some of them girls ?" 
 
 " Because that is what I guess," answers Molly. 
 " But we shall soon see, for they will have to come 
 soon." 
 
 But " they" do not. The birds, except the night- 
 ingales, hush their songs, the sun moves nearer to 
 the lovely bed preparing for him, the dews begin 
 to fall so thick and fast that Maria comes to hurry
 
 38 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR, 
 
 them in. She turns a deaf ear to all entreaties for 
 "just five minutes more," and tells them to go at 
 once to their grandmamma and then up stairs to 
 her. 
 
 Grannie is the dearest old lady in a story book 
 or out of it. She is sitting in a large arm-chair, 
 which is quite her own, and which no one else ever 
 thinks of sitting in. It is drawn near the window, 
 and she has a fleecy snow-white shawl thrown over 
 her shoulders and her snow-white hair tucked away 
 under a snow-white cap. She has such a soft, 
 round, kissable face, I am sure you would want to 
 kiss her if you were to know her. She has another 
 cap on now, a cap the sisters call " Grannie's think- 
 ing cap." 
 
 The room where Grannie is sitting is always a 
 dark room, with odd nooks and corners, and lighted 
 only by two small windows. To-night it is darker 
 than usual, for the blinds are halfway down most 
 likely Maria has forgotten to pull them up when 
 the sun left the room. Perhaps it is the dusky
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 39 
 
 light, or perhaps Grannie with her still white face 
 and figure looks a tiny bit like some one from ano- 
 ther world, perhaps it is both these things toge- 
 ther, but certainly the sisters do not talk so boldly 
 of the fairies now as they did an hour ago in the 
 broad sunshine. They show Grannie the presents, 
 and tell her the story about them in very low voices 
 and with mysterious little nods and waving of the 
 hands. Grannie suggests boldly that Farmer 
 Morton had more to do with the presents than 
 the fairies, but they are both so indignant at the 
 mere idea that she leans back in her chair, and 
 says, 
 
 " Well, my dears, have it all your own way. If 
 you choose to think the fairies sent them, pray 
 do. And if it pleases you both, 7 am quite satis- 
 fied." 
 
 " But, Grannie," argues Molly, " the needles show 
 they are fairy needles. They have gold eyes. And 
 they are sent to do our hemming nicely and not 
 prick our fingers."
 
 40 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " If they do your hemming better, I shall not be 
 the one to grumble, my dear !" says Grannie. " For 
 I must say the half-side of the handkerchief you 
 hemmed to-day was disgraceful? 1 
 
 " That was the fault of those horrid, common 
 needles, Grannie," speaks up Sibyl. " We tried to 
 make them work, and they wouldn't. They broke 
 six of themselves, Grannie, trying to do the piece 
 of hemming you set me." 
 
 " Six ! Dear me," says Grannie, " that is very 
 wasteful. Six needles a day for you alone ! Why 
 just think what a number that would be at the end 
 of the year !" 
 
 "It was wery stupid of them to break," says 
 Sibyl. " I told them so, but they wouldn't 'tend to 
 me. But these fairy needles ! You will see how 
 beautiful they will work to-morrow, Grannie." 
 
 " Indeed I hope so, my dear," says Grannie. 
 " Now say me your Psalm, and then run off to bed. 
 You are later than usual to-night." 
 
 With folded hands they stand before Grannie,
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 41 
 
 and say verse by verse the 23rd Psalm. Then they 
 kiss her, and race up stairs to bed, Sibyl winning 
 the race by a whole length of the passage. 
 
 There is a proverb which declares that " a watched 
 pot never boils." It means that if you are watch- 
 ing for something, it very often does not come until 
 you have grown tired and have given up looking 
 for it. And so it happens to-night, for the sisters 
 have just begun to undress, when the fly, for which 
 they waited so long and so patiently, drives up to 
 Riverside. If they had heard the wheels, I am 
 sure they would have scampered down stairs, with 
 only half their clothes upon them to have a peep 
 at " our next door neighbours." But luckily they 
 hear nothing. They have won a hard-fought battle 
 and are jumping about in high glee. They wake 
 very early in the morning, somewhere about four 
 o'clock in the summer-time, but Grannie has given 
 strict orders that they are not to wake Maria to 
 dress them before half-past six. Now they have 
 coaxed Maria to ask Grannie if they may not get
 
 42 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 up at six o'clock to-morrow for a great treat. 
 Grannie says ' yes,' but that they are to understand 
 it is to be only to-morrow and not any other 
 morning. 
 
 " It is lucky people don't take houses every day 
 in the week," says Maria, " for you are a couple of 
 wild Indians to-night. Now Miss Sibyl, come and 
 have your night-dress on at once" 
 
 " The sooner we go to bed and to sleep the 
 sooner the morning will be here," says Molly, 
 sobering down. " Oh, Maria, why won't you let us 
 get up with the sun ? He gets up beautiful and 
 early." 
 
 " The sun has his work to do and you have 
 yours," says Maria. " And your work is to be 
 good and obedient children, and to do as your 
 grandmamma tells you." 
 
 " Grandmamma is such a long name," says Sibyl 
 " I like Grannie best." 
 
 " Shut your eyes tight, Sibyl, and go to sleep," 
 says Molly, as she nestles down in one little white
 
 WAITING FOR THE NEIGHBOUR. 43 
 
 bed, and Sibyl does the same in another. " It will 
 soon be morning." 
 
 Sibyl, who is sucking her thumb to send her to 
 sleep, murmurs, as she opens her eyes a tiny bit, 
 
 " And then when morning comes, then we shall 
 see our next door neighbours."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FROM THE TOP OF THE WALL. 
 
 OUCH a great deal of work the sun has got 
 ^"^ through this morning before many people 
 were awake. He has swept the fresh sweet dew 
 off the grass, and dried the scented hay that is 
 lying about. He has fallen upon the grey sea and 
 broken it up into thousands of silver ripples. He 
 has kissed the buds into full-grown flowers, and 
 warmed the earth, and ripened the fruit. Oh, 
 there is no end to the beautiful work the sun has 
 been doing this morning, and now he is staring 
 very hard at Molly and Sibyl as they stand talk- 
 ing together.
 
 FROM THE TOP OF THE WALL. 45 
 
 They are too busy to think about him at all, 
 only as he comes in their eyes, in spite of their 
 large sun-bonnets, they go blinking, blinking, blink- 
 ing, like a couple of dear little white fluffy owls 
 just brought into the sunshine. 
 
 " I know where Jacob has left the short ladder," 
 Molly is saying, " but one short ladder is not much 
 use. You would like to see as soon as me, wouldn't 
 you, sister ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," answers Sibyl eagerly ; " of course I 
 should. You won't go up without me, Molly ? 
 Couldn't we both go up the same ladder ?" 
 
 " I am afraid we should push each other off," 
 answers Molly. " But oh, Sibyl, there is the hall 
 chair what turns into steps, you know." 
 
 " Oh, yes, let us fetch it at once," says Sibyl 
 dancing along. 
 
 The maids are at breakfast in the kitchen, so the 
 children have the front of the house to themselves. 
 The chair is oak, and very heavy, and it takes 
 them some time to push it to where they want it
 
 46 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 to go against the stone wall which separates their 
 garden from that of Riverside. Then they fetch 
 the short ladder from its hiding place, and put it 
 side by side with the chair ladder, and seat them- 
 selves down for a few minutes' rest. They are red 
 and hot, and not nearly so clean and nice as when 
 they left their bedroom nearly two hours ago. 
 
 " I wonder if Uncle Edward came last night," 
 says Sibyl. 
 
 " Oh, yes," answers Molly ; " he is sure to have 
 come. He always comes when he says he will. 
 Now, if you are rested, Sibyl, let us go up the 
 ladder, and we shall soon see our next door neigh- 
 bours, they are sure to be in the garden now." 
 
 Step by step the two sisters mount the ladders, 
 until they can see into the next garden. Then 
 they cuddle their white chins upon the dusty wall, 
 and look eagerly around them. 
 
 The smoke is curling out of the chimneys as it 
 did last night ; upon every side stretch the straight 
 old-fashioned flower borders, while before them
 
 FROM THE TOP OF THE WALL. 47 
 
 gleams the cool green turf with its silver edge 
 that narrow river running so silently along. Many 
 a time have the sisters paddled in it, dragging out 
 the water-cress in great handfuls, and then leaving 
 it to bake in the sun. The old lady and gentleman 
 who lived at Riverside for some months loved the 
 two children dearly, and they were as much at 
 home there as in Shadie Cottage, running all over 
 the place like a couple of white cats. But Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bertram have gone to live near a married son, 
 and Molly and Sibyl are looking out for new next 
 door neighbours. 
 
 Everything is very still and quiet this summer 
 morning. There is no sound of any kind to be 
 heard. No chattering voices, no pitter-patter of feet, 
 no people big or little taking a walk in the garden. 
 
 The pair of blue eyes and the pair of green eyes 
 search every nook and corner eagerly, quickly, 
 brightly. Then Sibyl's face lengthens, Molly's 
 grows very blank, and they squeeze their chins 
 closer against the top of the dirty wall.
 
 48 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Perhaps we are too early," says Molly in a dis- 
 appointed voice. 
 
 " They must be wery lazy," says Sibyl with con- 
 tempt ; " we have been up a great while." 
 
 " Let us sit down and wait," suggests Molly. 
 
 It is difficult for two small people with very 
 short legs to turn about on the top of a ladder 
 and sit down upon a wall. They are quite careful, 
 but once Sibyl nearly turns a somersault into our 
 next door neighbour's garden. Luckily for her 
 Molly seizes hold of her dress just in time to 
 save her. 
 
 " The sun is shining wery hot this morning," 
 says Sibyl fretfully ; " I wish he would turn his 
 face another way. He's looking round the cor- 
 ner of my sun-bonnet, and burning my cheeks 
 dreffuL" 
 
 At this instant the front door they are both so 
 anxiously watching, opens, then shuts again, and 
 Arthur, fresh from the hands of Cerisette, steps 
 out upon the gravel path.
 
 FROM THE TOP OF THE WALL. 49 
 
 He awoke early this morning : so early that 
 he heard the lowing of the "dear cow" as they 
 milked her for his breakfast. He was so anxious 
 to look for his new medicine, that he gave 
 Cerisette no peace until she dressed him to let 
 him go out. 
 
 He is dressed in a sailor suit of some soft white 
 stuff, and a broad-brimmed sailor hat is set far 
 back upon his yellow head. He walks slowly 
 along, his eyes glancing right and left, as if in 
 search of something. 
 
 Molly and Sibyl hold their breath, then Sibyl 
 whispers gently, 
 
 " Our next door neighbour, Molly !" 
 
 " And such a nice next door neighbour," Molly 
 whispers in an admiring voice. 
 
 " Grannie says we is to love our neighbours," says 
 Sibyl, still in a whisper. " And I think Grannie 
 would like us to love our next door neighbour a 
 wery great deal." 
 
 Arthur is just passing under the wall. 
 E
 
 $0 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " We will speak to him," says Molly. " Good 
 morning, next door neighbour. Are you very 
 well ?" 
 
 Arthur jumps at the sound of the voice. Then 
 looks about to see from whence it comes looks 
 everywhere but up at the garden wall. 
 
 " Here we are," cries Sibyl, " up here : upon the 
 top of the garden wall. We have been watching 
 for you such a long time." 
 
 " Were you not very late in getting up ?" says 
 Molly, with gentle reproach. " We have been up 
 hours, and we were so anxious to see you." 
 
 " I was up much earlier than usual this morning," 
 says Arthur, looking in perplexity at his strange 
 visitors, seated at their ease upon the top of the 
 wall. The two sun-bonnets are bent eagerly to- 
 wards him, the pair of roguish, dark blue eyes, and 
 the pair of serious green ones are taking him in 
 from head to foot. Arthur blushes rosy-red from 
 his slender white throat to the roots of his yellow 
 curls.
 
 FROM THE 7 OP OF THE WALL. 51 
 
 " Are you all by yourself?" asks Sibyl. 
 
 " Cerisette came with me yesterday," says Ar- 
 thur, " and the servants came the day before." 
 
 " Who is Cerisette ?" inquires Molly. " Is she 
 your mamma ?" 
 
 " Oh, no," replies Arthur. " She is a French 
 nurse. But she has been with me ever since I was 
 born, and she speaks English almost as well as 
 French." 
 
 "Then we shan't have to talk French to her, 
 shall we ?" says Sibyl, in a tone of relief. " 'Cause 
 we don't know it. Grannie is going to get some 
 one to teach us wery soon." 
 
 " Shall you stay here a long time ?" says Molly. 
 
 " We do not know yet," says Arthur. " If it 
 does me good, perhaps we shall. The doctor 
 ordered me to come into the country and drink 
 plenty of milk from the cow." 
 
 He is about to tell them of the curious, mysteri- 
 ous medicine, hoping they may help him to find it, 
 when Sibyl interrupts eagerly,
 
 52 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Ah, the dear cow. We know her wery well." 
 
 " Did she belong to you once ?" asks Arthur. 
 
 " No," answers Molly. " But we often went in to 
 tea at your house when Mr. and Mrs. Bertram lived 
 there a great while ago before you came. And 
 we had strawberries and cream." 
 
 " It was 'licious," says Sibyl. " The dear cow's 
 cream is wery nice, and so is the strawberries 
 too." 
 
 " Won't you come into our cottage and see our 
 grannie ?" asks Molly. " She would like to see 
 you, for we have been telling her ever so many 
 days that our next door neighbour would be com- 
 ing soon." 
 
 " She isn't our grannie, but our great-grannie," 
 Sibyl explains, " and that is two grannies in one. 
 So that it is much nicer than one grannie. But 
 great-grannie is so long to say, and we call her 
 grannie for short." 
 
 " It is a pity you can't get over the wall," says 
 Molly, " but there is no ladder your side. If you
 
 FROM THE TOP OF THE WALL. S3 
 
 run down to the big gates, we will meet you and 
 show you the way." 
 
 " I had better tell Cerisette where I am going, if 
 you can wait," says Arthur. 
 
 " We can't wait," says Molly, " and we will bring 
 you back quite safe. Make haste and run fast" 
 
 Arthur stands uncertain for an instant, but the 
 bonnets have disappeared below the wall, so he 
 follows Molly's directions, runs across the lawn and 
 out at the iron gate. 
 
 He meets the sisters in the lane, and they take 
 him between them, each holding a clean fair hand 
 of his in one of their grubby brown ones. Up the 
 rose walk they go, and the full-blown roses of yes- 
 terday merrily shake their dainty, many-coloured 
 leaves upon the three children as they pass under- 
 neath them. 
 
 " How pretty it is, and how sweet the roses 
 smell," says Arthur. 
 
 " Yes, arn't they 'licious ?" says Sibyl, sniffing. 
 " You must come into the drawing-room first,
 
 54 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 'cause we have something to show you. You did 
 not know, did you, that the fairies are our 
 friends ?" 
 
 " No" says Arthur, in a very astonished voice. 
 
 " Yes," replies Sibyl, dancing gaily on before 
 him, " and they sent us a present, two lovely pre- 
 sents each. Sit in that chair and we will show 
 them to you." 
 
 The workboxes are much admired, and a corner 
 of the packets opened that the brown, crackling 
 gingerbread may be seen. 
 
 " But we must not eat it until Grannie says we 
 may," and Sibyl puts it quickly out of sight, " and 
 we had better not give you any until Grannie says 
 you may have it, 'tickerlarly if you have been ill," 
 and Sibyl, who is fond of using hard words, repeats 
 with great pride, "'tickerlarly if you have been 
 ill." 
 
 " Uncle Edward has come," says Molly, who has 
 slipped out of the room while Sibyl was showing 
 the presents. " I tried his door, and it was locked,
 
 FROM THE TOP OF THE WALL. 55 
 
 but I heard him splashing about in his bath. 
 Such a beautiful bath he must be having, sister, 
 for he is making such a great noise." 
 
 "Poor Uncle Edward," said Sibyl, shaking her 
 head. " That is 'cause he can't wash himself when 
 he is in London. Maria says water is wery scarce 
 in London, and when he comes here I s'pose he 
 has to wash himself wery much to get himself 
 clean." 
 
 " Oh," says Arthur eagerly and earnestly, " but 
 that is not true about not getting water in London. 
 We live in London, and I have just as much water 
 for my bath there as I had for my bath here this 
 morning quite as much." 
 
 " Do you live in London ?" says Sibyl. " Then 
 of course you know our Uncle Edward. How glad 
 he will be to see you again." 
 
 " He only lives in London part of the year," 
 explains Molly. " He is down here staying with 
 Grannie and Sibyl and me very often. Whenever 
 he can spare time he runs down."
 
 56 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Perhaps Father knows him," says Arthur, " but 
 I don't think I do." 
 
 " Oh, you will 'member him when you see him," 
 says Sibyl. " Now you had better come up and 
 let us show you to Grannie." 
 
 " He can look at this picture-book first," says 
 Molly. 
 
 Then they prepare to take their visitor up 
 stairs. 
 
 " You go first, Sibyl, to show the way," says 
 Molly, " and I will come after you with Arthur." 
 
 They reach the landings where the bedrooms 
 are. Sibyl's fingers are closing upon the handle of 
 a door when Molly turns to Arthur. 
 
 " You won't be frightened at seeing Grannie in 
 a night-cap, will you ?" she says. " Grannie al- 
 ways wears a night-cap when she is in bed, you 
 know." 
 
 " Oh," says Arthur, drawing back, and speak- 
 ing in a surprised voice. " But I would rather 
 not go in until until your grannie is dressed.
 
 FROM THE TOP OF THE WALL. 57 
 
 She would not like it, I am sure she would not 
 like it" 
 
 "Oh, Grannie does not mind," says Sibyl, open- 
 ing her eyes wide. " She lets us run in and out." 
 
 " Are you afraid of the night-cap ?" says Molly 
 reproachfully. " I didn't think you would be." 
 
 " No, I am not," says Arthur in a distressed 
 voice. He is too shy to explain, but he is a true 
 little gentleman, and he feels that a stranger going 
 in to Grannie suddenly is quite different to Molly 
 and Sibyl running in and out. He says no more, 
 however, and Molly seizes his hand to drag him 
 along. 
 
 Sibyl is about to fling open the door with a 
 flourish when a handle close by is turned and a 
 gentleman stands in the midst of them. 
 
 " Good morning, my nieces, and what is all this 
 noise about ?" he says. " Whom have you here, 
 Molly ? I hear the fairies have been at work in 
 these parts. Perhaps this is a fairy Prince. Little 
 Prince Charming, eh ?"
 
 58 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " He is our next door neighbour, Uncle," says 
 Molly, " and we are just going to take him in and 
 show him to Grannie." 
 
 " I am sure Grannie will be very glad to see 
 him later on when she is dressed and downstairs," 
 says Uncle Edward. " But now it is time for 
 breakfast. Will Prince Charming stay and have 
 some with us ?" 
 
 " Oh, I forgot Cerisette !" says Arthur quickly 
 and timidly. " She does not know where I am, 
 and I ought to have told her. I must not stay any 
 longer, thank you." 
 
 " We will send in and tell her you are here," says 
 Uncle Edward. " I am sure you want some break- 
 fast to bring colour into those white cheeks. You 
 should divide your roses, Molly, and give him half." 
 
 " I would if I could," says Molly, rubbing her 
 cheek. 
 
 " There must be something done to you both 
 before you are fit to have breakfast with me," says 
 Uncle Edward, looking at his nieces in disgust.
 
 FROM THE TOP OF THE WALL. 59 
 
 " What has happened to you ? You might be two 
 little pigs instead of two little girls." 
 
 This is true, for their knees are grimy, their 
 hands black, their clean frocks soiled and crumpled, 
 their sashes under their arms and their faces 
 smeared by being rubbed upon the dirt at the top 
 of the stone wall. Such a contrast they are to 
 Arthur in his fresh white suit and with his clean 
 fair hands and face, and smooth yellow curls. 
 
 " But we have been up so long that we have had 
 time to get dirty," says Molly cheerfully. 
 
 " Yes, and you have only just washed, so it's 
 no wonder you are clean, Uncle Edward," says 
 Sibyl in triumph. 
 
 " I heard you splashing about, and making such 
 a great noise in your bath," says Molly. 
 
 " It seems that even the walls have ears in this 
 house," murmurs Uncle Edward. " But come to 
 breakfast clean and respectable, if you can. I shall 
 take Prince Charming with me, and then you will 
 be down all the sooner."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A COUPLE OF CHATTERING MAGPIES. 
 
 REAKFAST is laid in the verandah, out of 
 reach of the sun, but where a gentle wind 
 blows soft kisses to them across from the roses. 
 
 " That is better," says Uncle Edward, as Molly 
 and Sibyl appear with clean faces and hands, well 
 washed legs, and fresh dresses and sashes. " But 
 I wonder how long you will remain so ?" 
 
 " That 'pends upon what we do after breakfast," 
 remarks Sibyl wisely. 
 
 " Yes," says her uncle ; " I fancy if I meet 
 you in an hour, you will be like two chimney- 
 sweeps."
 
 A COUPLE OF CHATTERING MAGPIES. 61 
 
 " Don't you love chimney-sweeps, Uncle Ed- 
 ward ?" asks Sibyl wistfully. 
 
 " They are very useful in their way. What made 
 you ask such an odd question, Sibyl ?" 
 
 " 'Cause Jacob doesn't," says Sibyl. " He says 
 he lived next door to one once, and he was that 
 grimy he couldn't abide him. But you would love a 
 chimney-sweep if he was your neighbour, wouldn't 
 you, Uncle ? 'Cause Grannie says we ought to love 
 our neighbours." 
 
 " One might have worse neighbours than a 
 chimney-sweep," replies Uncle Edward. 
 
 " Do you think you should love him well enough 
 to kiss him, even if he was wery sooty ?" asks Sibyl 
 earnestly. 
 
 " I really have never thought about it," says 
 Uncle Edward, " and it is a subject which requires 
 a great deal of thought, Sibyl. Now, tell me Prince 
 Charming's name when he is not Prince Charming, 
 for I have heard you call him nothing but ' our next 
 door neighbour.' "
 
 62 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 "My name is Arthur Adair," answers Prince 
 Charming for himself. 
 
 " And are you alone with your French nurse ?" 
 asks Uncle Edward. 
 
 " Father will come very soon," says Arthur ; " but 
 he cannot get away yet, because Parliament is sitting." 
 
 " How many eggs is she sitting upon ?" asks Molly 
 briskly. " Because we have a hen called Draggle- 
 tail, and she is sitting upon eleven eggs." 
 
 " Parliament is not a hen," says Uncle Edward, 
 " but a great many men who meet together in two 
 large houses called the House of Lords and the 
 House of Commons. They make laws, and talk 
 about them." 
 
 " Ah," says Sibyl, " I thought it was a quare 
 name for a hen." 
 
 " And oh, Uncle Edward," cries Molly, laying a 
 sticky hand upon his heather-mixture coat. " We 
 want to ask you a question." 
 
 " Ask as many as you please," he replies, gently 
 moving the plump hand from his coat sleeve.
 
 A COUPLE OF CHATTERING MAGPIES. 63 
 
 " I forgot. You don't like stickiness," says Molly, 
 " and my hands are rather sticky. But it's no use 
 going to wash them, because I mean to have some 
 more jam." 
 
 "If you please," corrects her uncle. 
 
 " If you please," says Molly meekly. 
 
 "And now what wonderful question is it you 
 want to ask me ?" 
 
 " I know," cries Sibyl suddenly. " Let me 'splain 
 about it, Molly." 
 
 " No ! no !" says Molly. " I began, and I must 
 r-plain. You are too young to ex-plain, Sibyl. 
 You can't say your words p'operly. You should 
 say &r-plain, not 'splain" 
 
 They are very fond of each other these two 
 sisters, but they do sometimes have a tiny quarrel. 
 Molly is rather fond of laying down the law, and 
 Sibyl, who has a will of her own, often resents 
 this. She likes to imagine she can say long words 
 quite correctly, and she is very touchy upon the 
 subject. The tears start to her eyes now, but she
 
 64 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 turns to her plate, and pretends to be eating as if 
 nothing is the matter. 
 
 Tender-hearted Molly is not often unkind, and 
 she is sorry for what she has said as soon as the 
 words have left her lips. 
 
 " I will tell half, Sibyl, and you shall tell half," 
 she says, with a repentant look at her sister. 
 
 But Sibyl does not speak. 
 
 " Come and sit on my knee, and have a big 
 strawberry," says Uncle Edward. 
 
 She is soon herself again, and then Uncle Ed- 
 ward says, 
 
 " Now, Molly, go on with your story, and Sibyl 
 shall help you with it." 
 
 " Arthur lives in London and you live in London, 
 and you do not know each other," says Molly, 
 " and we think it so funny that you both live in 
 the same place and don't know each other." 
 
 " There are a great many people in London," 
 replies her uncle, " and it is impossible in a large 
 place like that to know everybody"
 
 A COUPLE OF CHATTERING MAGPIES. 65 
 
 " How quare," says Sibyl. " Why this is a big 
 place, and we know everybody in it. Don't we, 
 Molly ?" 
 
 " I have no doubt you do, and not only every 
 person, but every dog, and cat, and hen, and duck, 
 and chicken," says Uncle Edward. 
 
 " Only this year's ducks and chickens," says 
 Molly earnestly. " Last year's ducks and chickens 
 always grow up like the ducks and chickens of the 
 year before that, and we never can tell them apart, 
 can we, Sibyl ?" 
 
 "No," says Sibyl thoughtfully. "But it is so 
 quare, Uncle Edward, not knowing all the people in 
 London." 
 
 " Not at all ' quare,' " replies Uncle Edward, 
 " for if you remember I have told you often and 
 shall tell you again that you are the two greatest 
 little gossips that ever lived. No one can equal 
 you." 
 
 " But Grannie says we are to love our neigh- 
 bour," says Molly, " and she says she does not 
 
 F
 
 66 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 mean only our next door neighbour, but all the 
 people around," and Molly spreads out her fat 
 hands and waves them about. 
 
 " Yes, and now we wisit at all the houses and 
 loves them all wery much," says Sibyl. " But we 
 mean to love our next door neighbour the best. I 
 am so glad he is not a chimney-sweep and sooty. 
 Let me go back to my place by his side, please, 
 Uncle." 
 
 " And leave me," says Uncle Edward, pretend- 
 ing to cry. " Oh, you changeable little woman. 
 Another time I shall be the one to desert you." 
 
 " I don't believe you," says Sibyl, shaking her 
 curls at him, " You will always let me come and 
 sit on your knee when I like, / know." 
 
 " When you are clean," adds Uncle Edward. 
 
 " But Uncle," says Molly, too earnest about the 
 subject to let it drop, " you can't love people if you 
 don't know them, can you? And if you don't 
 know your neighbours in London you can't love 
 them ?"
 
 A COUPLE OF CHATTERING MAGPIES. 67 
 
 " But I do know a few people in London, and I 
 believe I love them some of them at any rate," 
 replies Uncle Edward. " You have no idea what a 
 large place London is, Molly. There are hundreds 
 of streets, with big houses and little houses filling 
 them up. Ask Prince Charming and he will tell 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, yes," says Arthur. " London is a very large 
 place indeed, and it takes a long, long time, even 
 in a carriage, to go from one end of it to another. 
 This is only a tiny, tiny place by the side of it." 
 
 "It is quite big enough," says Sibyl, quickly. 
 " It takes us a long while to wisit at all the houses." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," says Arthur, meekly. 
 
 " I have not asked after my old friend Jacob 
 yet," says Uncle Edward. " When I was here last 
 his asthma was bad " 
 
 " That is the word I wanted to remember," says 
 Molly. " I was sure it began with a donkey." 
 
 "Jacob is very c'oss," says Sibyl, shaking her 
 head gravely. " Molly wouldn't speak to him all
 
 68 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 day yesterday. He knew who was coming to be 
 our next door neighbour, and I went all by myself 
 to ask him. Molly wouldn't come with me." 
 
 "Oh, Molly, Molly," says Uncle Edward, seri- 
 ously. " That does not seem much like ' loving 
 your neighbour,' does it ?" 
 
 Molly blushes redder, and hangs her head until 
 her gold-brown curls hide her scarlet cheeks. 
 
 " He was so very rude, Uncle," she says with 
 dignity. 
 
 " He called Molly and me bad names," says 
 Sibyl, eagerly. 
 
 " What did he call you ?" asks her uncle. 
 
 " A couple of chattering magpies," answers 
 Molly. 
 
 " And why did he call you that ?" says Uncle 
 Edward. 
 
 " The day before yesterday it rained fast," replies 
 Molly, " and the weeds grow up after the rain. 
 And we thought we were doing good by pulling 
 them up, and then
 
 A COUPLE OF CHATTERING MAGPIES. 69 
 
 " Then Jacob came," puts in Sibyl, " and he was 
 d'eadfully c'oss. He said we had pulled up the 
 seed and left the weeds. But we thought they was 
 weeds." 
 
 " And he said," continues Molly, " that we 
 were quite old enough to know nasty weeds 
 from good seed, and that we were always talk- 
 ing so much, and that was why we wouldn't 
 learn which were the seeds and which were the 
 weeds." 
 
 " And then he called us ' a pair of chattering 
 magpies,' " says Sibyl, " now wasn't he c'oss, Uncle 
 Edward ?" 
 
 " I think it was ' a couple,' not ' a pair,' " says 
 Molly. 
 
 " I think it was ' a pair/ " says Sibyl. 
 
 " I am almost sure it was ' a couple,' " says Molly, 
 earnestly. 
 
 " I am quite sure it was ' a pair,' " says Sibyl, 
 positively. 
 
 " Poor Jacob," says Uncle Edward, pityingly.
 
 70 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " What between you and his asthma he has rather 
 a bad time of it I am afraid." 
 
 " Grannie says it is his donkey complaint what 
 makes him c'oss," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Don't you think you may have something to 
 do with it ?" begins their Uncle Edward, but Sibyl 
 interrupts him hastily with 
 
 " Here is the French nurse. Now are you quite 
 sure, Arthur, we shan't have to talk French to 
 her ?" 
 
 Cerisette, in her anxiety about Arthur, has ap- 
 peared to carry him off. She says he must go in 
 doors and rest. Later on he can come in again, if 
 the little ladies are so kind as to want him. 
 
 The " little ladies" can hardly be coaxed to give 
 him up. They meant to have kept him all day. 
 But Cerisette is firm. Mr. Adair is not here, and 
 she is responsible. But she promises Arthur shall 
 have tea with them, and that she will bring him in 
 about four o'clock in the afternoon. 
 
 The sisters each take one of his hands and
 
 A COUPLE OF CHATTERING MAGPIES. 71 
 
 insist upon walking with him to his own gate. To 
 the very last they have a hope in their hearts that 
 Cerisette will invite them in to be with him. But 
 she does not. Perhaps it does not occur to her. 
 So Molly and Sibyl are left behind, their two wist- 
 ful faces squeezed against the bars of the gate, 
 watching Arthur so far as they can see him.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LOOKING IN. 
 
 r I ^HE sisters coax Grannie for a whole holiday, 
 ^ because they do not feel they can settle 
 down to anything to-day. And their tongues never 
 cease to talk about " our next door neighbour." 
 Dear Grannie in her arm-chair near the window 
 has knitted on with a patient smile, while she 
 listens to the description they give of little Prince 
 Charming. Sibyl takes great pains to impress 
 upon Grannie that his eyes are the same colour as 
 those of Mr. Strong's collie dog, and Molly says 
 his nose is kyline. This puzzles Grannie until she 
 finds out that Molly means aquiline.
 
 LOOKING IN. 73 
 
 They have done everything they can think of to 
 give Prince Charming pleasure. They have ga- 
 thered a large bouquet for him running off with 
 some of Jacob's choicest blossoms when that poor 
 old man's back is turned. They have asked cook 
 to make some of their favourite cakes, they have 
 picked the fruit, and chosen the prettiest spot 
 in the garden where they will have tea. And 
 now they are dressed in clean white frocks with 
 blue sashes, their hair tied with blue ribbons, and 
 they are thinking that four o'clock will never 
 come. 
 
 A quarter to four, and Molly and Sibyl stand in 
 the middle of the drawing-room hand in hand. 
 Their eyes are fixed upon the clock, and they are 
 worrying Grannie with 
 
 " Now, isn't it four o'clock, Grannie ? Are you 
 quite sure it isn't ? You said it was fifteen minutes 
 to four, a long, long while ago." 
 
 " Twelve minutes to four," says Grannie in a re- 
 signed voice. " I cannot make it go quicker, my
 
 74 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 dears, and I believe my watch is true time. At 
 least so your uncle says." 
 
 " But you are not quite sure," says Sibyl. 
 
 " As sure as I need to be," says Grannie. " It 
 is only a minute or two wrong, if any. Now, my 
 dears, be patient for a short time." 
 
 For three minutes they are like mice, then Sibyl 
 says, 
 
 " Now it must be time, Grannie." 
 
 " It's sure to be four now," says Molly. 
 
 " Nine minutes to four," says Grannie. " But, 
 my dears, as you are so anxious for your little 
 neighbour to come, why don't you go and meet 
 him ?" 
 
 Nothing could give them greater pleasure, and 
 with an air of relief they run away. 
 
 They quite expect to meet him in the lane, 
 hurrying towards them. But there is no sign of 
 him there, nor in the drive when they peep through 
 the gate. 
 
 They do not squeeze their faces against the bars
 
 LOOKING IN. 75 
 
 as they did this morning, but walk boldly up to 
 the house to call for him. 
 
 The hall door is shut and the bell is beyond 
 Molly's reach even when she stands upon the ex- 
 treme tips of her square toes. 
 
 " I can't reach it," she says panting, and with a 
 rosy face, " I shall have to lift you up, Sibyl, and 
 you must give a loud pull. They will know it 
 is us." 
 
 Sibyl brings two strong, willing little hands to 
 bear upon the bell, and it rings such a peal that it 
 sounds as if a band of soldiers were insisting upon 
 being admitted. 
 
 " They will hear that," says Molly, shaking her- 
 self to set herself to rights. 
 
 " I pulled it nice and loud, didn't I ?" says Sibyl. 
 
 In their eagerness to be let in, they press so 
 close against the door that when it is opened sud- 
 denly they fall flat upon their faces in the hall. 
 They are helped up at once, and a voice hopes that 
 they have not hurt themselves.
 
 76 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 An old man stands before them dressed in black, 
 and with a kind, grave face. 
 
 " We came to fetch " begins Molly, then stops. 
 " Prince Charming," is on the tip of her tongue, 
 but perhaps the old man would not know who is 
 meant. She has forgotten Arthur's surname, and 
 so has Sibyl. Their faces look very blank for an 
 instant, then they brighten as the same thought 
 crosses the mind of each, and they say boldly, the 
 two voices sounding like one, 
 
 " We came to fetch our next door neighbour." 
 
 The grave butler puts his hand before his mouth 
 to hide a grave smile that creeps over it. But no 
 doubt he has heard about Molly and Sibyl, for he 
 crosses the hall, and leads the way to the drawing- 
 room at once. 
 
 " It is just the same furniture as it was when 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bertram lived here," says Sibyl when 
 they are alone. 
 
 " It is a furnished house, and that means it is 
 let with the furniture and all," says Molly.
 
 LOOKING IN. 77 
 
 " This is the big arm-chair what dear Mr. Ber- 
 tram used to sit in," says Sibyl, wriggling herself 
 back into it. " Come and sit by the side of me, 
 sister. It is quite comfy for two." 
 
 As they sit side by side, their arms twined lov- 
 ingly round each other's necks, you can see that 
 though alike in some ways, in others they are very 
 different. Molly's face is so much plumper, and 
 her hair fairer. It waves in fluffy bits of down 
 over a broad white brow, while Sibyl's face is 
 smaller and thinner, and her hair is done up in 
 front in one large curl upon the top of her head, 
 and kept in its place with a hair-pin. 
 
 " Do you know, Sibyl," says Molly suddenly, " I've 
 been thinking, and I am sure Grannie never pays 
 visits without a bonnet on, we ought to have had 
 on our best bonnets, just as we do when we pay visits 
 with Grannie." 
 
 Molly's solemn voice overawes Sibyl. She puts 
 her hand to the top of her head, and pats it 
 dolefully.
 
 78 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Do you think Arthur will mind ?" she says. 
 
 " Perhaps he won't," says Molly ; " but there is 
 the man who opened the door." 
 
 "We didn't mean to pay a real, regular 
 wisit," says Sibyl ; " we only came to meet 
 Arthur." 
 
 " Yes," replies Molly slowly ; " but the man didn't 
 know that" 
 
 " He must have thought it wery quare," says 
 Sibyl. " Hadn't you better 'splain about the bon- 
 nets, sister ?" 
 
 "He must have thought we didn't know how to 
 behave," says Molly gravely. " What shall we say 
 to him, Sibyl ?" 
 
 But Sibyl shakes her head hopelessly, and falls 
 to work to suck her thumb. She does this if she 
 is worried, or sad, or perplexed, and she seems to 
 find great comfort from it. 
 
 " Tell him we only looked in," she says. 
 
 But Molly takes no notice of this idea. 
 
 " I tell you what, Sibyl," she says at last in a
 
 LOOKING IN. 79 
 
 bright voice, " we will ask Prince Charming to ex- 
 plain to the man." 
 
 Sibyl takes her thumb out of her mouth with an 
 air of relief, and looks admiringly at Molly. 
 
 "That is beautiful. You always do think such 
 lovely things, Molly ; you are so clever." 
 
 Molly kisses her. 
 
 " I am glad I thought of it," she says. " And do 
 you know, I have thought another thought since 
 we have been sitting here ?" 
 
 "Have you ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I am sure we ought not to be both sitting 
 in one chair. I have been to pay visits with 
 Grannie " 
 
 " So have I," says Sibyl hastily ; " don't leave 
 me out." 
 
 " I won't," says Molly ; " only I've been the 
 oftenest, because I am so much older than you. 
 But, Sibyl, when you paid visits, you never saw 
 Grannie and another person sitting in one chair, 
 did you ?"
 
 8o OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " I don't 'member," replies Sibyl slowly. " You 
 went only two days ago, don't you 'member for 
 certain, Molly ?" 
 
 "I'm trying," says Molly thoughtfully. "We 
 went to visit Mr. and Mrs. Strong, and we sat in 
 the sitting-room where the glass thing with the 
 flowers is." 
 
 " A 'serva-story," says Sibyl. 
 
 Molly nods. 
 
 " Grannie did not sit in the same chair with Mrs. 
 Strong, and she didn't sit in the same chair with 
 Mr. Strong, and she didn't sit in the same chair 
 with me, so she must have sat in a chair all by 
 herself." 
 
 " Then we will sit in chairs all by ourselves," says 
 Sibyl springing up. " Come 'long, sister, which 
 shall we choose ?" 
 
 A few seconds later, when Prince Charming 
 enters, instead of the two little girls cuddled cosily 
 back in one arm-chair, he finds them, a great way 
 apart from each other, sitting upon the tallest and
 
 LOOKING IN. 81 
 
 straightest chairs the room contains, their toes 
 stuck stiffly out before them, their backs very erect, 
 and their faces trying hard to look as if their best 
 bonnets were not in the wardrobe at home, but 
 where they want them to be upon the top of 
 their bright little heads. 
 
 As Arthur appears, the sisters give a cry of 
 mingled delight and admiration, their stiffness 
 vanishes in an instant ; they jump down from their 
 high seats and run forward to greet him. 
 
 He has thrown aside his morning suit, and is 
 dressed in an old-fashioned, quaint costume of 
 dark sapphire blue velvet, silk stockings to match, 
 and shoes with sparkling buckles. The dark blue 
 is set off by a falling collar and ruffles of old lace 
 yellow with age, and in his hand he holds a cap to 
 match the velvet, with a buckle to match his shoes 
 set upon one side of it. His cheeks are flushed, 
 his brown eyes bright with excitement, and his 
 lips curve into a happy smile as he sees his two 
 little visitors. 
 
 G
 
 82 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 Molly and Sibyl are lost in admiration. What 
 they would like to do would be to throw their four 
 warm arms round his neck and draw him down for 
 a good hug. But he is so much more a Prince 
 Charming now than even he was this morning, 
 and for once shyness steps in and they content 
 themselves with standing still and looking at 
 him. 
 
 " We want to explain something," says Molly, 
 taking his hand and speaking earnestly. "We 
 thought we should meet you in the lane, and we 
 didn't put on our bonnets 'cause we were in a 
 hurry. And we want you to tell the man that 
 this is not a real, regular visit, but we only 
 just looked in to fetch you because you were so 
 late." 
 
 " And tell him," puts in Sibyl hastily, " that we 
 really and truly do know how to behave ourselves, 
 for Grannie always takes Molly or me when she 
 goes to pay wisits." 
 
 " I am sorry I was so late," says Arthur, " and
 
 LOOKING IN. 83 
 
 that you had all the trouble of coming to fetch 
 me." 
 
 " Oh, it was not any trouble. We liked it," says 
 Molly, " and perhaps you were not very late, only 
 we were rather early. The clocks wouldn't go after 
 we got ready." 
 
 " Don't forget to tell the man," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Had I better tell him now ?" asks Arthur. 
 
 " I think it would be safest," says Molly. " Be- 
 cause you might be sleepy, and forget this even- 
 ing." 
 
 The butler is holding the door open for them. 
 Arthur steps up to him and says a few words 
 in a low voice. Molly and Sibyl stand gravely 
 hand-in-hand, watching the butler's face. He 
 does not even smile, and their dignity is satis- 
 fied. 
 
 A little while later the drawing-room door 
 at Shadie Cottage is thrown widely open, and 
 Grannie is waked up so suddenly from a nap, that 
 she rubs her eyes and blinks them, wondering
 
 84 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 if she is dreaming still, for coming towards her 
 is a slender figure with a head covered with 
 yellow curls and earnest brown eyes looking out 
 of it. He is dressed in dark blue and creamy 
 white ; and as he advances, two voices cry from 
 the background, 
 
 " Grannie, here is Prince Charming." 
 
 " Ah ! yes ! Just for the moment I forgot," says 
 Grannie, sitting upright, and putting on her spec- 
 tacles to have a better view of her visitor. " I 
 ought to have remembered you were coming, my 
 dear, for Molly and Sibyl have been talking about 
 you the whole day. But old ladies like a nap now 
 and then. And when you came in I was waked 
 up so suddenly that for the moment I could not 
 remember who you were." 
 
 " I flung the door open," says Sibyl penitently. 
 " I am so sorry, Grannie." 
 
 " Never mind," says Grannie. " And how are 
 you, my dear ?" turning to Arthur. " I hear you 
 came down here because you are so delicate."
 
 LOOKING IN. 85 
 
 " Cerisette thinks I am better already, thank 
 you," says Arthur. 
 
 " You are very thin, my dear," says Grannie. " I 
 hope you will grow fatter before you go away." 
 
 " But he has only just come, Grannie," says Sibyl 
 quickly. " And I want him to live here all his life 
 long." 
 
 " And if he lives to be as old as I am that will 
 be a very long time," says Grannie. 
 
 " Our Grannie is everybody's Grannie," says 
 Sibyl, " and she is to be yours too, Arthur. You 
 must call her Grannie just as we do, and you will 
 never have another Grannie who will be half as 
 nice." 
 
 " Here is Maria with my tea. You don't have 
 yours until by-and-by," says Grannie, " but you can 
 stay and see me eat mine if you like." 
 
 " But may we not take him out and show him 
 the garden ?" asks Sibyl coaxingly. 
 
 " Do as you please, my dears, so that you do not 
 tire Arthur. He is not so strong as you are,
 
 86 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 and you must have some mercy upon his poor 
 legs." 
 
 " I'll take care of him, Grannie," says Molly in a 
 motherly voice, and with Prince Charming between 
 them they pass out into the garden.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 IT is ALL A'TWEEN us. 
 
 A FTER tea the two sisters take Arthur to show 
 ^ him their play-room. 
 
 It is a fair-sized, uncarpeted room, with a cup- 
 board built into the wall, a strongly made table, 
 a few chairs, and a large wide sofa, covered with 
 old-fashioned, well-worn chintz. The floor, table, 
 chairs, and sofa are crowded with toys, or rather 
 pieces of toys. You may search the whole room 
 from one end to the other, and I do not believe 
 you will find a single toy that is whole and sound. 
 There are many animals, but not one animal with 
 its own four legs upon its own proper body. Lying
 
 88 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 down by the sofa is a cow that seems quite itself, 
 but if you take it in your hand and examine it, 
 you will find that Sibyl, in her hurry to mend it 
 when Jacob's glue-pot was nice and handy, has put 
 a horse's head upon it instead of its own. There 
 is an odd-looking creature staring down at you 
 from the table. There is a familiar air about it, 
 yet you cannot think what animal it is meant to be. 
 It is the body of a donkey with the head of a 
 water-spaniel glued on to it. Sibyl took up the 
 first head that happened to be near her, and as it 
 fitted she put it on. She is very proud of her 
 work, and has great affection for that animal. 
 Sometimes she calls it " my dear dog," sometimes 
 " my dear donkey." One name does as well as the 
 other. 
 
 " Nothing belongs to nobody in this room," says 
 Sibyl in a lordly voice, and waving her hands 
 about as she stands by Arthur's side. " Nothing 
 belongs to nobody here. It is all a'tween us." 
 
 Such a wistful look comes into Arthur's brown
 
 IT IS ALL A'TWEEN US. 89 
 
 eyes and curves the corners of his mouth. This 
 is just what he has missed all his life long. Every- 
 thing has always been his very own. Nothing has 
 ever been " a'tween us." Think what it would be 
 to live alone in the world, and have no one to share 
 things with us. We cannot enjoy anything alone. 
 If it is only a book we read or a thought we think, 
 how naturally we turn to talk it over with a friend 
 we love, or of whose sympathy we are sure. And 
 as our pleasures are double if we share them, so 
 our sorrows are only half sorrows if we can tell 
 them and be comforted. A great deal of mischief 
 is done every day by the bad habit of brooding 
 over things when we are alone. Perhaps some one 
 is a little unkind to us, and we sit down and brood 
 over it. We wrap it up and keep it to ourselves, 
 and bit by bit it grows, until at last, like the cloud 
 which was at first no bigger than a man's hand, it 
 fills the whole of our world and is the means of 
 separating us from some one who is very dear to 
 us. And just in the same way Arthur had brooded
 
 90 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 about his father, and thought, when he was absent, 
 only of the time when he would come again, so 
 that he had become the sad and spiritless little boy 
 he was when we saw him in his London home. 
 There is no sadder person than the Miller of the 
 Dee if he ever lived and he, you know, is proud 
 of saying, 
 
 " I care for nobody, no, not I, 
 And nobody cares for me. " 
 
 And I am not sure but that loving one person, 
 only one person, with a very exclusive love, is not 
 quite as bad as the Miller of the Dee, who cared 
 " for nobody." It is no wonder, is it, that if he 
 cares for nobody, nobody cares for him ? 
 
 And a great longing is stirred in Arthur's heart as 
 his wistful brown eyes glance over the broken toys 
 and rest upon the happy pair of sisters. He does 
 not clearly understand where the difference lies, 
 but he only knows that he is yearning to share his 
 treasures with them, not only his toys, but some of 
 the love that the good GOD has given to all of us,
 
 IT IS ALL ATWEEN US. 91 
 
 and which has waked up in Arthur at that tiny 
 speech of Sibyl's, " it is all a'tween us." 
 
 So the little fellow, who is usually so sober and 
 quiet, stretches out his arms as if he would em- 
 brace the whole room full of broken toys, and 
 cries with quivering lips and big tears springing 
 into his brown eyes, 
 
 " Oh, please may I bring my toys here, and 
 may they be all between us ? Please, please let me 
 bring them." 
 
 " Oh, yes," answers Molly in a matter-of-fact 
 surprised voice ; " you can bring as many of your 
 toys as you like. There is plenty of room." 
 
 "Oh, plenty of room. Bring them all, every 
 one of them," says Sibyl gleefully. " I 'spect they 
 are great beauties. When will you bring them, 
 Arthur ?" 
 
 "To-morrow," says Arthur, sobering down into 
 his quiet self once more. 
 
 " That will be wery nice," says Sibyl in a satis- 
 fied voice. " But what makes your face so wery
 
 92 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 red, Prince Charming ? Is the room too hot ? but 
 I am 'fraid there isn't another window we can 
 open." 
 
 Half-an-hour later, when Uncle Edward looks 
 in, he finds the party of three quite at home. 
 Prince Charming is sitting upon the ground, his 
 velvet suit and silk stockings soiled and dusty, 
 while Molly upon one side of him, and Sibyl upon 
 the other, each with an arm twined lovingly round 
 his neck, are kissing and hugging him to their 
 hearts' content. 
 
 " You are choking your visitor," is Uncle Ed- 
 ward's greeting, as the sisters pounce upon him. 
 
 " No, oh no," says Sibyl in a shocked voice ; 
 " we have given him a good tea, and now we are 
 amoosing him. Come and help amoose him, Uncle 
 Edward." 
 
 " Sit down upon the sofa," says Molly, upsetting 
 the toys to make way for him. 
 
 " It's old, but it's wery comfy," says Sibyl, doing 
 the honours of their furniture.
 
 IT IS ALL ATWEEN US. 93 
 
 " You need not introduce me to this sofa," says 
 Uncle Edward, sitting upon it and leaning back ; 
 " I knew it when I was a baby, this sofa and I 
 have been friends for nearly forty years." 
 
 " Oh, Uncle," cries Sibyl, " why how is it your 
 hair isn't white ?" 
 
 " I had no idea you were so old," says Molly 
 putting her head upon one side and regarding him 
 with fresh interest. 
 
 " Then perhaps you will listen to me with greater 
 respect," says Uncle Edward, " for I have a com- 
 plaint to make. Prepare yourselves for a trial, 
 and let me see if you are innocent or guilty." 
 
 The two sisters stand very upright before Uncle 
 Edward ; they clasp their hands behind their backs, 
 their faces trying to keep grave, but little dimples 
 peep out and play hide-and-seek every now and 
 then. 
 
 " We are going to be tried," explains Sibyl to 
 Arthur ; " but don't cry, 'cause it's only make- 
 believe."
 
 94 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Uncle Edward is the judge, and we are the 
 prisoners," says Molly. 
 
 " I wish you were a little more sorry," says 
 Uncle Edward. " Do you know what you have 
 done ?" 
 
 " No," says Molly. 
 
 " No," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Then are you innocent, or guilty ?" 
 
 " Innocent," cry the two voices. 
 
 " When I came home this evening," says Uncle 
 Edward, " I went to my room to dress for din- 
 ner ; I took off my coat, and walked to the 
 wash-hand stand to plunge my face into a basin 
 of water " . 
 
 "That was wery bad for you if you was hot," 
 interrupts Sibyl, shaking her head. " Maria says 
 so, it will make your face spotty" 
 
 " The water was not cold but lukewarm, which 
 makes all the difference," says Uncle Edward. 
 " Before I dipped my face I stretched out my hand 
 for a sponge, there was no sponge. That was
 
 IT IS ALL A 1 T WE EN US.. 95 
 
 'quare,' as Sibyl would say, but it was 'quarer' 
 still when I found that nail-brushes, tooth-brush, 
 in fact every one of my things had vanished as if a 
 conjuror had whisked them away." 
 
 The sisters' faces dimple with delight. Molly 
 claps her hands, and says gleefully, 
 
 " Of course you couldn't find them, because we 
 have been tidying up for you. Grannie likes us to 
 tidy up." 
 
 " Yes, and your room was in such a litter," says 
 Sibyl reprovingly. " It wanted tidying up dread- 
 ful, and we had nothing else to do. It looked 
 lovely when we left it." 
 
 " After a long hunt I found my nail-brushes, 
 tooth-brush, and sponges where I least expected to 
 find them in the drawer with my clean shirts. One 
 of my hair-brushes was upon the top shelf in the 
 wardrobe " 
 
 " We threw it up," says Sibyl. " It tumbled 
 down a great many times, the stupid thing, but it 
 stayed up at last."
 
 96 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " The other brush I found inside one of my best 
 boots" 
 
 " It fitted in so nicely," says Molly, " and there 
 was no room for it anywhere else." 
 
 " The boots themselves I found in the wardrobe 
 underneath my dress coat, and my slippers lay 
 upon the top of my collars and cuffs. My nail- 
 scissors I found in the box where I keep my dia- 
 mond studs " 
 
 " They was lovely," says Sibyl, delightedly. 
 " They shined like stars. Molly and me tried them 
 on, and we wondered why you never wear them 
 when you are here." 
 
 "Now, you must listen and be serious," says 
 Uncle Edward, putting one hand on the shoulder 
 of each of them and drawing them to him. " I 
 cannot allow you to go into my room at all if you 
 do not promise me that you will not tidy up as 
 you call it again. You can tidy up your own 
 rooms as much as you please. I am sure this 
 room, for instance, wants tidying up if ever a
 
 IT IS ALL ATWEEN US. 97 
 
 room did, and you can begin upon it to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 " Oh, but that would never do," cries Molly, with 
 a blank face. " We can never find anything when 
 it is tidy. Can we, sister ?" 
 
 " No, never !" cries Sibyl. " Oh, we don't like the 
 room tidy at all, Uncle Edward." 
 
 " Ah ! That is just the case with me. I can 
 never find anything when my room is tidy, so I 
 hope you will remember the golden rule, and ' do 
 unto others as you would they should do unto 
 you !' Now what are you going to say ?" and 
 Uncle Edward releases them from his grasp. 
 
 "We are very sorry," says Molly, her roguish 
 blue eyes looking her uncle straight in the face. 
 
 " We will never do so no more," says Sibyl, 
 rolling her pinafore in her hands and poking one of 
 her shoulders nearly up to her ears. 
 
 " We hope you will forgive us," says Molly. 
 
 " And we give you a thousand kisses," says 
 Sibyl, springing upon him, and Molly follows her 
 
 H
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 example ; their four arms clasped tightly round his 
 neck while kisses rain down upon his cheeks, fore- 
 head, nose, moustaches, hair, and some of them 
 even fall upon the back of his coat. 
 
 " And how have they been ' amoosing* you, 
 Prince Charming ?" asks Uncle Edward, when he 
 has breath enough to speak. 
 
 " They have shown me the garden and their 
 play-room, and I have been very happy, thank 
 you," says Arthur, shyly. " And Molly says I may 
 bring my toys here, and we can have them all 
 between us. Will not that be nice ?" and his brown 
 eyes brighten as he looks to Uncle Edward for 
 sympathy. 
 
 " Very nice indeed if you don't mind having 
 them broken," says Uncle Edward, shrugging his 
 shoulders and sweeping a glance around him. 
 " Where is that china tea-set I brought you from 
 London, Molly, about ten days -ago ? Not a piece 
 of it left to tell the tale, I suppose." 
 
 " Oh, yes," replies Molly with pride, " we have
 
 IT IS ALL ATWEEN US. 99 
 
 been very careful over it, and have only had it out 
 now and then. There is only the sugar-basin 
 broken, and the lid of the tea-pot, and a few cups, 
 and saucers, and plates. Grannie is going to join 
 them together with some stuff that mends china 
 beautiful. She will mend your china and make it 
 as good as new, Uncle Edward." 
 
 " Thank you," says Uncle Edward. " But as I 
 have no little nieces living up in London with me, 
 my china does not want joining. And how about 
 the doll I brought you, Sibyl, the same time I 
 brought Molly the tea-set." 
 
 " She is as good as new," says Sibyl cheerfully. 
 " She broke her two legs and her two arms, but 
 Molly put her on two fresh legs and two fresh 
 arms, and then her head fell off and I put her on 
 Lady Mildred's head, because Lady Mildred had 
 lost her body, and now she is quite as good as new. 
 Would you like to see her, Uncle Edward ?" 
 
 " No, thank you," says her uncle drily. " By- 
 the-bye, children, I had a letter by the morning's
 
 ioo OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 post which I did not read until after breakfast, and 
 then I found in it a great piece all about Prince 
 Charming." 
 
 " Oh," cries Sibyl, dropping an armful of toys 
 with a loud clatter upon the floor. "Do let us hear 
 it. Do tell us about it ;" while Molly just as eager 
 presses close against her uncle's knees, and peeps 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 " You cannot read it, little woman," he says, " but 
 when I have found the place I will read it to you. 
 Here it is. Dr. Courtney writes : ' I have sent 
 down to be your next door neighbour a delicate 
 little fellow called Arthur Adair. I was his father's 
 fag when we were at school together, and even now 
 I remember how easy my fagging was when com- 
 pared with that of the other fellows. We did not 
 meet, after we left school, until a few weeks ago, 
 when we came across each other's path, and found 
 out we had been old schoolfellows. He told me 
 about his only son, how many doctors had seen 
 him, and how little better he seemed to get, and
 
 IT IS ALL 'A TWEEN US. 101 
 
 he asked me to look in upon him one day. I did 
 so, and luckily thought of the empty house next 
 door I saw when I was staying with you. It is 
 not country air he wants so much as bright com- 
 panions to cheer him and interest him, and those 
 two little nieces of yours will be the very best medi- 
 cine for him.' " 
 
 " Oh," cries Arthur eagerly. " Then that was 
 what the doctor meant," and he explains to the 
 three the mystery about the strange medicine he 
 was to find at Riverside. 
 
 " How quare," says Sibyl thoughtfully, " for Molly 
 and me to be two bottles of medicine. But we 
 are wery nice medicine, arn't we, Prince Charm- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Very nice indeed," says Arthur. 
 
 " Now I will finish about it," says Uncle Edward, 
 reading from the letter. " ' Will you ask your 
 mother if she will be so kind as to call and let him 
 see as much of Molly and Sibyl as she thinks fit ? 
 I know her kind heart, and I do not hesitate to
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 ask her this. Molly and Sibyl will work wonders, 
 and under their care, I expect to find my little 
 patient in a few weeks quite bonny and bright. I 
 have only seen him once, but he struck me as being 
 a very sweet little fellow, and your nieces ' " 
 
 " There," says Uncle Edward, as he folds up the 
 letter rather hastily. " That is all I need read. 
 The rest does not concern you much." 
 
 " But it was about us," says Molly suspiciously. 
 " You did not finish about us. We want to know 
 what more Dr. Courtney said about us." 
 
 " It is sure to be something wery nice," says 
 Sibyl, " for he was a wery nice man. Do read it, 
 please, Uncle Edward," (very coaxingly.) 
 
 " Not a word more," replies their uncle, putting 
 the letter into his pocket-book. " Dr. Courtney little 
 thinks you made your next door neighbour's ac- 
 quaintance so soon." 
 
 " Why of course" says Molly serenely, " Grannie 
 says it is only neighbourly to call upon your next 
 door neighbour."
 
 IT IS ALL 'ATWEEN US. 103 
 
 " But you did not wait for Grannie," says Uncle 
 Edward. " And I must say you have what Sibyl 
 calls a c quare' way of managing your affairs down 
 here. When we want to know our neighbours in 
 London we do not climb up ladders and sit upon 
 the top of a wall to see them come out of their 
 house." 
 
 " The wall was too high for us to peep over, and 
 we were obliged to climb up the ladders," says 
 Molly. 
 
 But the faces of the sisters grow very red as they 
 call to mind their visit this afternoon without their 
 bonnets. What would their uncle say to that ? He 
 would be quite sure that people in London would 
 never pay visits with bare heads and without being 
 properly dressed. 
 
 " But it wasn't a real, regular wisit," says Sibyl 
 in a comforting whisper, as they gaze into each 
 other's startled eyes. " It was only looking in" 
 
 " That was all," Molly whispers softly back. 
 
 Uncle Edward is talking to Prince Charming,
 
 104 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 and does not hear the whisper. Arthur's eyes 
 shone, while he listened to the letter, and now they 
 are lighting up with a new interest as he forgets 
 his shyness, and puts his hand upon Uncle Ed- 
 ward's coat-sleeve. 
 
 " I am so glad that the nice doctor knew Father 
 when he was a boy like me," he says softly. " Do 
 you think I shall ever see him again to ask him 
 what Father did and all about him ?" 
 
 " I am sure you will," answers Uncle Edward, 
 " for I fancy from what Dr. Courtney says that 
 he and your father are getting firm friends. And 
 if you stay here long enough you will see him, for 
 he often runs down for a couple of days' rest. He 
 is a great friend of mine." 
 
 " Only stays long enough," quotes Sibyl bristling. 
 " Why, Prince Charming is not going away never 
 no more. Grannie is his Grannie, and you are his 
 Uncle Edward, and Molly and me are his sisters, 
 and these toys " waving her hand " are all to 
 be a'tween him as well as a'tween Molly and me."
 
 IT IS ALL 'ATWEEN US. 105 
 
 " As for the toys, I don't think much of that part 
 of the bargain," says Uncle Edward. " What do 
 you say, Prince Charming ?" 
 
 Arthur colours brightly. 
 
 " It is so nice," he says, " because they are to 
 be between us. I have had my toys to myself, and 
 I do not care for them a bit. But you are so kind 
 to me," and to the children's great surprise he lays 
 his head down upon Uncle Edward's shoulder and 
 sobs. 
 
 " Why he must have hurt himself," says Sibyl. 
 " I'll run and ask Grannie for some sticking-plaster. 
 Don't cry, dear Arthur." 
 
 " Kiss the place and make it well," says Molly 
 soothingly. 
 
 " Let him alone," says Uncle Edward, who un- 
 derstands all about it now. " He will be quite him- 
 self soon. Let him cry in peace." 
 
 " I am crying because I am so happy," says 
 Arthur between his sobs. 
 
 " Now how wery quare of you, Prince Charming,"
 
 106 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 says Sibyl. " Molly and me only cry when we 
 arn't happy or when we have hurt ourselves." 
 
 " Never mind," says Molly. " He will be him- 
 self soon, Uncle Edward says so. Don't cry, Prince 
 Charming no, do cry, I mean, if it does you good," 
 and she pats his yellow curls with quite a motherly 
 touch. " We love him very much indeed, don't we, 
 sister ?" 
 
 " Wery, wery much," replies Sibyl, and they each 
 of them press a grave kiss upon the back of his 
 neck and stand quietly hand-in-hand beside him 
 until his tears have stopped.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 UNDER THREE UMBRELLAS. 
 
 'TT^HE beautiful summer days pass like a dream 
 to the three happy children, Molly, Sibyl, 
 and Arthur. They are always together, either 
 Arthur is with them at Shadie Cottage, or they 
 are with him at Riverside. 
 
 Cerisette has grown used to the sisters and their 
 odd ways. At first she was really afraid they 
 would lead Arthur into danger break his neck, or 
 something. But by degrees she learnt to trust 
 them, and now she has become quite fond of the 
 " English little ladies," as she calls them. 
 
 Arthur is not rosy or plump, I do not suppose
 
 io8 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 he will ever be either of those things, even if he 
 lives to be a big man, but he is quite different to 
 what he was when first he came to Riverside. 
 There is a touch of healthy colour in his cheeks, 
 his eyes are bright, he runs about and plays, and 
 laughs, and does not get sleepy until the evening ; 
 and then, as all children know, the dustman goes 
 round and throws dust into their eyes, and they 
 are obliged to feel sleepy whether they wish it 
 or no. 
 
 Arthur's toys have been carried into the play- 
 room at Shadie Cottage, and it need hardly be 
 said, there is not a whole one left. The carved 
 ivory animals from the large Noah's ark are only 
 fit for the doctor. The rein-deer lies upon the 
 floor, a front leg missing and a slender horn broken 
 off ; the elephant's trunk is in two pieces ; a cow 
 has lost a tail ; a horse's head is in a corner, its 
 body somewhere else ; a squirrel is looking in vain 
 for the nut he was cracking ; and a splendid New- 
 foundland dog has only one ear. But then, as
 
 UNDER THREE UMBRELLAS. 109 
 
 Sibyl carefully explains to Arthur, "You cannot 
 find out how to join things together unless they 
 are broken," and Arthur is so happy that the de- 
 struction of his toys does not trouble him, though 
 he is, by nature, a most careful little man, and his 
 things are just as whole and nice when he has 
 finished with them as when they first came into 
 his possession. 
 
 " Arthur," says Sibyl one day, turning suddenly 
 to him, " why is it that when your papa goes away, 
 you run to your bedroom, and shut your door 
 tight, and won't come to play with Molly and me 
 for a wery long time ?" 
 
 " I am always so sorry when Father goes away," 
 says Arthur ; " but I know it vexes him to see me 
 cry, so I wait until he has gone, and then I shut 
 myself in my room and have a good cry. But 
 Father is coming next week to stay here for his 
 holiday, and that will be nice." 
 
 " It is wery quare about your crying," says Sibyl, 
 looking at him with a puzzled expression. " Molly
 
 110 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 and me could cry sometimes when somebody wery 
 nice goes away, but we couldn't cry after they had 
 gone. We shouldn't have time." 
 
 " Should not you ?" says Arthur meekly. " But 
 then I have plenty of time, I have not so much 
 to do as you and Molly." 
 
 " That is wery true," says Sibyl. " Now, this 
 afternoon you must come with us, Prince Charming. 
 We are going to see whether Mrs. Grey's chickens 
 are hatched, and if Nannie Straw is better, and oh ! 
 a great many other things. Molly u has written 
 them down upon a piece of paper, as long as 
 that, in small writing. Molly's small writing is 
 wery clever, nobody else can read it 'cept herself. 
 You can't, can you, Arthur ?" 
 
 " No," answers Arthur ; " I tried the other day, 
 and found I could not." 
 
 " Here she is," says Sibyl, as Molly comes to- 
 wards them, a piece of paper in one hand, a pencil 
 in the other, and with altogether an air of business 
 about her.
 
 UNDER THREE UMBRELLAS. in 
 
 " I was wondering where you both were," she 
 says. " We shall have to start directly after din- 
 ner, and we shall not be home until tea-time. 
 You must put on your biggest hat, Arthur, and 
 please bring an umbrella, because it is so hot." 
 
 " Oh, I don't want an umbrella," pleads Arthur, 
 " I really don't." 
 
 " Oh yes, you do," says Molly briskly. " We are 
 all going to take umbrellas to-day, Sibyl is to 
 have Grannie's, I shall have Uncle Edward's, and 
 you can have one of your papa's. Parasols are no 
 use with a hot sun, Grannie said so to Maria the 
 other day, when Maria wanted her to take the 
 little parasol with the lace round. Grannie said, 
 ' That is only for show, Maria ; I want something 
 that will be of use to-day. Bring me my umbrella, 
 please.' " 
 
 And Arthur says nothing, but meekly submits. 
 Molly always has her own way with him. 
 
 Early in the afternoon they start, and they take 
 up the whole width of the lane from hedge to
 
 112 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 hedge, as they walk along. Grannie's umbrella 
 nearly covers Sibyl from head to foot, as she leans 
 it upon her shoulders ; you can only see a pair of 
 little black socks and boots pattering underneath 
 it. Uncle Edward's umbrella is larger still, and 
 Molly is borne down by the weight of it. No 
 socks are seen in her case, only a pair of boots. 
 Arthur's slender figure staggers under the weight 
 of his an old one of his father's but he is taller 
 than Molly, so that a good piece of white sailor 
 trousers is showing as he trudges on. 
 
 They walk slowly for some distance, but their 
 arms ache, and they feel unusually tired. The 
 umbrellas are woefully heavy, but neither of them 
 likes to be the first to complain. 
 
 By-and-by Sibyl's umbrella shuts with a loud 
 snap, and she fr"s down, her head and shoulders 
 folded up c. ohe screams with fright, and 
 Molly and Arthur rush at once to pick her up and 
 get the umbrella away from her. It takes some 
 time to comfort her, but her tears are dried at last ;
 
 UNDER THREE UMBRELLAS. 113 
 
 then they make another start, but she insists upon 
 changing umbrellas with Molly first 
 
 Their spirits are better after the rest they have 
 had, and as Sibyl sees a tomtit sitting in the hedge, 
 she makes a dart at it. But she forgets her um- 
 brella, which is so heavy that it tilts her forward. 
 She catches hold of Molly to save herself, but 
 Molly has no hands to spare, and both the sisters 
 roll over into the ditch, their big umbrellas floating 
 upon the top of them. 
 
 Arthur has to be comforter alone this time, and 
 sets to his work like a man. The two sisters are 
 scratched and bruised. Sibyl howls bitterly but 
 Molly manages, by winking very hard, not to shed 
 a tear. They can only find two handkerchiefs 
 between the three, and these have to be used to 
 dry Sibyl's tears and to wipe the <iust from hands, 
 and knees, and faces. And, ^ y, .iay fancy, 
 Molly and Sibyl do not look much like paying 
 visits this afternoon. 
 
 Still they persevere for some distance yet with 
 I
 
 114 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 the umbrellas. It is Sibyl who is the one to give 
 up. She suddenly plants her umbrella upright 
 upon its stick there it stands, a big, black mush- 
 room in the middle of the white road and stretch- 
 ing out her tired arms, she says decidedly, 
 
 " I am not going to carry that nasty thing any 
 further, Molly." 
 
 " But we cannot leave Uncle Edward's umbrella 
 in the middle of the road for anybody to pick up. 
 He would be vexed with us, and have to buy a 
 new one," says Molly, soberly. 
 
 " If we shut them they will not be so heavy, and 
 then they will not make our arms ache," says 
 Arthur, brightly. 
 
 " Let us try," says Molly. And so they do, and 
 find the plan much better. 
 
 At the first house at which they call Sibyl leaves 
 her umbrella behind her. Molly does not find this 
 out for some time, but when she does, she insists 
 that they must go all the way back and fetch it. 
 
 By this time it occurs to Molly that they had
 
 UNDER THREE UMBRELLAS. 115 
 
 better put off their visiting till another day. She 
 mentions it to the others, who agree with her 
 joyfully. 
 
 But they return in quite a different style to that 
 in which they started. They are footsore and 
 weary, and their arms ache sadly. Their frocks 
 are dusty, their faces, legs, and hands scratched 
 and bruised, and they drag heavily after them 
 three shut-up umbrellas. 
 
 The two sisters are so fretful that night, so much 
 more tired and sleepy than usual, that Maria won- 
 ders what they have been doing, and questions 
 them closely about their scratches and bruises. 
 But they will not tell her. 
 
 And when next they go to pay visits, whether 
 in the village or with Grannie, they leave their 
 umbrellas at home. Molly too is heard to say to 
 Arthur the next day in a meek voice, 
 
 "You were quite right, Arthur, about the um- 
 brellas. It would have been better not to have 
 taken them."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 
 
 A BOUT the end of September something hap- 
 ** pens which throws Molly and Sibyl into the 
 wildest state of excitement. You will remember 
 if you go back to the second chapter that I 
 described three houses lying side by side, and one 
 of these is called the Red House. It is large and 
 rather gloomy, for it is very much shut in by trees 
 and shrubs, and it is built of red brick, from whence 
 it gets its name. 
 
 It is three years since the two little sisters came 
 to live with Grannie, and all that long time the 
 Red House has been empty, with no one living in
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 117 
 
 it. Many people have looked at it, but nobody has 
 ever yet taken it. Some say that it is too large, 
 others that it is too dull, and so on. 
 
 "We have never had no next door neighbours 
 here," Sibyl explains to Arthur, waving her hand 
 towards the high, close hedge which separates 
 them from the Red House. " It would be very nice 
 if we had you know, 'cause they could look out 
 of the windows and see a great deal of us." 
 
 " The windows are some way off," says Arthur. 
 " What a big house it is. You count the chimneys, 
 Sibyl. What a number there are." 
 
 " I don't think I could count so many," says 
 Sibyl. " It is a wery big house, and Molly and me 
 always want to go inside, but they keep the gate 
 locked so tight, and we never can get in. Shouldn't 
 you like to see inside it ?" 
 
 " No, I do not think I care much about it," 
 answers Arthur, slowly. 
 
 " You are a wery quare little boy, Prince Charm- 
 ing," says Sibyl, thoughtfully. " But Grannie says
 
 Il8 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 you are a wery good little boy, and she says she 
 wishes all day long that Molly and me was as good 
 as you. But we arn't wery good. We are always 
 doing naughty things, and then we are sorry after 
 we have done them." 
 
 " I am not good," says Arthur, blushing rosy red, 
 and a pained look coming into his sweet brown 
 eyes. " Indeed I am not good, Sibyl. Really and 
 truly I am not." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you are," says Sibyl, positively. " I 
 watch you in church on Sunday and you shut 
 your eyes wery tight, and say your prayers wery 
 hard, and sing your hymns wery loud. Arthur," 
 and Sibyl draws closer to him and tucks her 
 hand into his arm, " don't the flies worry you in 
 church ? Don't they come and sit on the end of 
 your nose and tickle you ?" 
 
 " No," says Arthur, " I don't think they do. At 
 least I don't feel them." 
 
 " That is wery quare," says Sibyl, " 'cause they 
 do worry Molly and me. There is one fly with a
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 119 
 
 blue tip to his tail I know him wery well indeed 
 and he ahvays will come and sit upon the end 
 of my nose in church. He has come every sum- 
 mer since we've been at Grannie's. I think he is 
 a wery rude fly, for I don't want him to come, and 
 Molly doesn't either. He must be getting wery 
 old now. Perhaps," very hopefully, " perhaps 
 he'll die soon. Flies do die, Arthur, don't they ? 
 They don't turn into butterflies, like those things 
 Grannie was telling us about ?" 
 
 " Oh, no," says Arthur. " It is only the chrysalis 
 that turns into a butterfly. I have a book in Lon- 
 don with coloured pictures in it, and all of differ- 
 ent butterflies and the chrysalis they come from. 
 I'll ask Father to bring it when he goes up to 
 London for the day. He is going next week I 
 think." 
 
 " It is not a wery 'tickler book, is it ?" asks Sibyl, 
 wistfully. " Not one you've got to be wery careful 
 over, and wash your hands every time you read it ? 
 'Cause if it is, perhaps it had better stay in its own
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 home in London, and your papa had better not 
 bring it down here." 
 
 " Father says it is a valuable book," answers 
 Arthur. " But I am sure he would like you to see 
 it, and I do not mind anything that you and Molly 
 do to it." 
 
 " That is wery kind of you, dear Arthur," re- 
 plies Sibyl. " You are wery kind, you know. 
 Grannie says it is so kind of you to threadle her 
 needles for her, 'cause she is old, and she can't see 
 to threadle them for herself." 
 
 " Oh, but it is so nice to do anything for Gran- 
 nie," says Arthur, eagerly. " I like to thread her 
 needles, I do indeed." 
 
 " Molly and me don't, 'cause we have to sit so 
 still," says Sibyl. " And now Molly says that 'cause 
 you have done it, when you are in your own house 
 we shall have to threadle them for Grannie. 
 We shall take it in turns. First Molly and then 
 me." 
 
 " We will run in now and see if she wants
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 121 
 
 any threaded before I go in to dinner," says 
 Arthur. 
 
 " I wonder if Molly has done the copy Uncle 
 Edward set her," says Sibyl, as they saunter slowly 
 up the rose path. " She is writing your name 
 in big letters all down the page. Not your 
 real name, but the name Uncle Edward gave 
 you, Prince Charming. And I have learnt to 
 spell it, Grannie teached me. Just hear me spell 
 it. P-r-i-n-c-e Prince, C-h-a-r-m-i-n-g, Charm- 
 ing, Prince Charming. Oh, here is Molly. She 
 has finished writing your name, and she has come 
 to show us how she has written it." 
 
 It is just as the leaves are pulling off their 
 green coats and putting on their red and yellow 
 ones that this wonderful something happens. The 
 Red House is no longer to be let. Somebody has 
 taken it. 
 
 This is a good time for Molly and Sibyl, for 
 they are nearly wild with excitement. Every day
 
 122 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 they bring in a fresh piece of news, and their little 
 tongues go so fast, that Grannie says they are like 
 the clapper of a bell. The only drawback to their 
 happiness is that they cannot rouse Arthur to be in 
 the least excited or disturbed about the wonderful 
 tidings. He is so very quiet, and evidently cares 
 very little about it, though for the sisters' sake he 
 tries to listen and be interested in all they have to 
 tell him. 
 
 One van-load of furniture arrives at the Red 
 House. The gates swing wide open, and the huge 
 van creaks and groans as it plunges heavily in at 
 them. Then the gates shut after it. This is only 
 the beginning of the amusement ; more furniture 
 must come, and then the neighbours themselves ! 
 So Molly and Sibyl think, and they wait upon the 
 tip-toe of expectation. But, and this is the fun- 
 niest part of the affair, nothing else happens. The 
 van comes out, after the furniture has been un- 
 loaded, and the gates shut after it again, and that 
 is all. Days pass, two weeks have passed, and no
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 123 
 
 person and no things have been seen to go in or 
 out of the gates of the Red House. 
 
 And yet there must be some one there. All the 
 people are agreed about that. For every now and 
 then the white smoke curls gaily upwards from the 
 chimneys of the Red House. And we know there 
 is no smoke without fire, and fire cannot be lighted 
 without hands. So there is a person or persons at 
 the Red House, but who or what they are nobody 
 can tell. 
 
 Molly and Sibyl are as curious as it is possible 
 for two little people to be. They never appear 
 from a walk without some fresh story about " our 
 next door neighbours," each wilder than the last. 
 These are a few of them. 
 
 1. " The Red House is taken by a gentleman 
 whose arms and legs were all shot off in battle. 
 He never leaves his room, but has a faithful at- 
 tendant who wheels him up and down it in a wheel 
 chair. 
 
 2. " The Red House is taken by a gentleman
 
 124 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 who is fond of keeping wild animals about him. 
 He has four tigers, two leopards, one lion, and two 
 panthers. They are very dangerous, and that is 
 why he does not wish for visitors. 
 
 3. " The Red House is taken by a lady who is 
 melancholy. She sits upon the sofa all the day 
 and plays a guitar. 
 
 4. " The Red House is taken by a lady who has 
 twenty-five cats. Each cat has a separate room, 
 and a little bed lined with red, or pink, or blue, 
 or yellow satin. And each cat has its own silver 
 plate, knife, fork, and spoon." 
 
 Even Arthur is roused to some curiosity, espe- 
 cially about the gentleman who owns the wild ani- 
 mals. If it is true, he says, he should like to know 
 the gentleman and the animals. 
 
 But Molly and Sibyl wait pretty quietly upon 
 the whole. They feel so sure of seeing inside the 
 Red House and becoming acquainted with their 
 neighbours. Grannie always call upon her neigh- 
 bours, for Grannie likes to be neighbourly, and of
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 125 
 
 course she will call upon the people at the Red 
 House after she has waited for them to shake down 
 in their new house. Grannie says it is not kind 
 to call upon your neighbours until you have given 
 them time to shake down. This is what the sisters 
 tell each other over and over again. 
 
 There is one thing that troubles them. When 
 they go to pay visits with Grannie they only go 
 one at a time. And which of them is to be the 
 one to pay this particular visit ? It is Sibyl's turn, 
 but Molly is the eldest. They end their dispute 
 by agreeing to ask Grannie to take them both. 
 Grannie is so kind she always says "yes" when 
 she can, and there is no reason why she cannot say 
 " yes" in this case. 
 
 The people at the Red House have had plenty 
 of time to shake down, and Grannie says never a 
 word about calling upon them. She listens with a 
 smile to the many stories the children pour into 
 her ears, but she never says, as they are always ex- 
 pecting she will, " My dears, ask Maria to dress one
 
 126 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 of you to pay a visit with me this afternoon. I am 
 going to call upon our neighbours at the Red 
 House." 
 
 " Do you think Grannie has furgotten ?" asks 
 Sibyl of Molly. 
 
 " She can't have forgotten," says Molly, " because 
 we are always talking about them." 
 
 " So we are," says Sibyl with a sigh. 
 
 " But perhaps we had better remind Grannie," 
 says Molly, " for I heard Maria say the other day 
 that when people are old the time goes so quickly 
 that they don't quite remember how it goes." 
 
 " And perhaps Grannie supposes that it is only 
 a few days instead of a long, long while," says Sibyl 
 brightly. 
 
 "That is it, you may depend upon it," says 
 Molly, nodding wisely. "And we will tell her 
 this very day when we go to say good-night to her." 
 
 And in the soft, subdued light of the candles 
 two little figures stand that same evening, hand- 
 in-hand before Grannie, waiting to speak to her.
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 127 
 
 " Now, my dears, I really think you get later 
 and later every day," says Grannie's gentle voice. 
 " You must say your Psalm, and go to bed atbnce." 
 
 "We have got something to tell you first, 
 Grannie," says Sibyl eagerly. 
 
 " Very well, my dear, what is it ?" asks Grannie. 
 
 " We think, Grannie, that our next door neigh- 
 bours have had plenty of time to shake down by 
 now," says Molly. 
 
 " Yes, my love, plenty of time," says Grannie 
 quietly. " Why Arthur must have been here let 
 me see, how many months ? You ought to know 
 better than I." 
 
 " Oh, Grannie, we don't mean Prince Charming," 
 breaks in Sibyl. " We mean our other side neigh- 
 bours." 
 
 " The people at the Red House," says Molly. 
 
 " Yes, my dears," says Grannie wonderingly ; 
 " but what have we to do with the people at the 
 Red House? It does not matter to us whether 
 they have shaken down or not, does it ?"
 
 128 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Oh yes, Grannie," says Sibyl, poking one shoul- 
 der nearly up to her ears in her eagerness ; " it does 
 matter a wery great deal, 'cause when they have 
 shaken down, you are going to call." 
 
 Grannie carefully places her spectacles upon her 
 nose, then turns them upon the excited chil- 
 dren. 
 
 " Who has been putting such nonsense into your 
 heads, my dears ?" she says. " I never meant to 
 call upon the people at the Red House." 
 
 " Grannie ! ! ! !" shrieks Sibyl. 
 
 " Grannie ! ! !" shrieks Molly. 
 
 " Why, my loves, what have I said ? What is 
 the matter?" cries Grannie in a quavering voice. 
 " You can't both be taken ill at the same moment 
 surely ? What is the matter ?" 
 
 " Grannie," gasps Molly, " you always said you 
 liked to be neighbourly !" 
 
 " Oh dear, oh dear," howls Sibyl, sitting down 
 upon the floor, and wringing her hands ; " now we 
 shall never see the lady who plays upon the cats,
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 129 
 
 nor the gentleman without arms and legs who takes 
 care of the wild animals " 
 
 " No, no, Sibyl," interrupts Molly, " you have it 
 wrong. It is the lady who plays upon the guitar, 
 and another gentleman, not the one without arms 
 or legs, who looks after the wild animals." 
 
 " I don't care," howls Sibyl recklessly, " for- if 
 Grannie won't call, we shall never see nothing of 
 anything. Oh, Grannie," in very coaxing tones, 
 " why won't you call ? Grannie dear, do call." 
 
 " Yes, please, dear Grannie," pleads Molly. " You 
 know you always said you liked to be neighbourly, 
 and we do want to go with you." 
 
 " My dears, if Sibyl will leave off howling, and 
 you will explain," says Grannie ; " but at present, 
 if strangers came in they would think I had been 
 beating you. What is all this grief about ?" 
 
 "We would tell them that you never beat us, 
 dear Grannie," says Molly in a comforting voice ; 
 " and we would tell them what a kind, good Grannie 
 you are. Sibyl is crying because we thought you 
 
 K
 
 130 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 meant to call upon the people at the Red House 
 when they had shaken down. You always like to 
 be neighbourly, don't you, Grannie ? And we pro- 
 mised we would tell Arthur all about it, and he 
 will be so sorry, and we are so sorry, and you didn't 
 mean what you said, did you, Grannie dear? and 
 you will call some time, won't you ? We don't care 
 how long we wait, so that you call some time" 
 
 Molly stops to take breath. 
 
 " I understand now," says Grannie, " and it is my 
 turn to explain. You are quite right, Molly, I do 
 like to be neighbourly, but then all the people we 
 visit I have known something about before, or I 
 have been asked to call. At any rate I have 
 known they would like me to call upon them before 
 I have done so. But the Red House is quite a 
 different matter. We know nothing about the 
 person or people living there, not even their 
 name. My dears, you cannot think I would call 
 upon people when I don't even know their name ! 
 Even you must see how impossible it is."
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 131 
 
 " Oh, but you could find out their name, Grannie," 
 says Sibyl. 
 
 " And we want so much to go," coaxes Molly. 
 
 " He's got no arms or legs, Grannie," cries Sibyl. 
 
 "She sits upon a sofa and plays music," says 
 Molly. 
 
 "He keeps wild animals, and Arthur does so 
 want to see them." 
 
 " My dears, I hope you do not believe all this 
 gossip," says Grannie gently. " My opinion is that 
 the Red House is taken by some people who have 
 trouble or sickness in the family, and who are 
 come down here for perfect rest and quiet. I 
 would not intrude upon them for the world, even 
 if there was no other reason. Why, my loves, we 
 don't know that the people at the Red House 
 want to see us. Indeed I think it is most likely 
 they do not!' 
 
 "Oh, Grannie!" cries Molly, "not want to see 
 you in your nice white cap, and pretty white shawl, 
 and looking so lovely as you always do ! Why the
 
 132 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 Queen would like to see you ! Sibyl and me often 
 wonder why you don't go up to London to visit 
 the Queen." 
 
 " Yes we do," exclaims Sibyl. " We are sure she 
 would like wery much to see you." 
 
 "And I think the people at the Red House 
 would like us" says Molly, " though we are not so 
 beautiful as you, Grannie. Prince Charming says 
 he loves us." 
 
 " Wery much indeed," says Sibyl. " Next to his 
 papa. And all the other people they loves us too." 
 
 " I am sure they do," says Grannie, taking off 
 her spectacles and winking away a tear that has 
 somehow found its way into the corner of one 
 of her soft blue eyes, " and your old Grannie loves 
 you best of all. But, my dears, you must trust 
 Grannie as well as love her ; and you must believe 
 that I do not wish to be unkind when I tell you 
 it is impossible that I should call upon the people 
 at the Red House. Don't think about it, and 
 don't listen to the gossip people talk, but be good
 
 GRANNIE REFUSES TO BE NEIGHBOURLY. 133 
 
 and happy with those who love you. I am very 
 glad you have such a nice neighbour as your 
 friend Prince Charming, but you would not find 
 another Prince Charming at the Red House, they 
 do not drop from the skies every day. Now, trust 
 Grannie, and be good little girls." 
 
 Molly and Sibyl do not answer. They say their 
 Psalm in meek voices, give dear Grannie two sub- 
 dued kisses, and walk hand-in-hand out of the 
 room, with heads hanging down and steps slow. 
 At the bottom of the stairs they stop, and look 
 blankly into each other's eyes. 
 
 " I am so wery 'tonished !" says Sibyl shaking 
 her head. 
 
 " So am I," replies Molly sorrowfully. " I always 
 thought dear Grannie was so very neighbourly."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FROM THE HOLE IN THE HEDGE. 
 
 ONIP, snip, snip, snip, snap. 
 Snip, snip, snip, snip, snap. 
 
 Snip, snip, sn . . ip, sn . . ip, sn . . ap. 
 
 " Oh, Sibyl, these garden scissors of Jacob's are 
 so heavy. They hurt my hands." 
 
 " It is my turn now, sister. I am not a bit tired," 
 says Sibyl. 
 
 "That is because you have not tried them," 
 answers Molly. "They are dreadfully big and 
 heavy ; and I don't think you had better try 
 them, Sibyl." 
 
 " Just a weeny bit," coaxes Sibyl.
 
 FROM THE HOLE IN THE HEDGE. 135 
 
 " Very well, but if they hurt you, you must leave 
 off at once," and Molly gives into Sibyl's tiny 
 hands a pair of large garden shears. 
 
 I am sorry to say these two little sisters have 
 not followed Grannie's good advice. They wait 
 patiently for a few days, hoping Grannie may 
 change her mind ; that she may be asked to call 
 upon the people at the Red House, or that some- 
 thing may turn up. But nothing has turned up. 
 The reports in the village are wilder than ever, 
 and the Red House itself is as silent as it can be. 
 No one is seen to go out or come in, the only 
 sound heard is the cawing of the rooks ; nothing 
 stirs except the trees, and the only sign of life is 
 the fleecy white smoke that sometimes curls out 
 of the red-tiled chimneys. 
 
 Molly and Sibyl have tried to sit upon the top of 
 the hedge, as they sat upon the top of the wall, but 
 they have failed. They could not get the ladder to 
 stand steady. " It wobbles very much," said Molly, 
 and the first step she took the ladder was nearly on
 
 136 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 the top of her. So now they are trying to make 
 a large hole at the bottom of the hedge, a hole 
 large enough and wide enough for them to see 
 through it. 
 
 It is no easy task, for the quickset hedge is 
 thick and broad, and there are a great many twigs 
 and branches to break off. It requires a good 
 deal of patience and willing fingers. Jacob is in 
 the town to-day buying some seeds, and while he 
 is away they have borrowed his garden shears, and 
 are hard at work, busy as bees. 
 
 "They do hurt my hands, Molly," says Sibyl 
 after a few minutes, " I would rather break off 
 the sticks with my fingers, and you can have these 
 scissors." 
 
 " I thought they would ; and now I am rested 
 I can go on again," says Molly. " Jacob must 
 have had these scissors made on purpose for his 
 own hands." 
 
 " Jacob's hands are not lily-white, are they ?" 
 asks Sibyl thoughtfully. " I heard Uncle Edward
 
 FROM THE HOLE IN THE HEDGE. 137 
 
 read some po'try to Grannie about 'lily-white 
 hands' the other day." 
 
 " Jacob's are not, but Prince Charming's are," re- 
 plies Molly. 
 
 " Oh, but then he is lovely altogether," says 
 Sibyl, " and" 
 
 " Do you know," interrupts Molly, " I believe we 
 can see through ! It is such a large hole." 
 
 " Oh, sister dear," says Sibyl in a most coaxing 
 voice, " let me have the first peep, please. I have 
 worked so hard, and I've torn a piece of skin 
 off one of my fingers with a nasty thorn, a real 
 bit of skin, Molly dear," and Sibyl holds out her 
 finger with a piteous air. 
 
 "Don't cry!" says Molly quickly. "If you don't 
 cry, you shall have first peep. You must push into 
 the hedge as far as you can get, and lie quite flat 
 or you will scratch your face." 
 
 Sibyl does not need to be told twice. She scram- 
 bles into the hedge, squeezes her white chin into 
 the earth, and stays quite still while she looks.
 
 138 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " What do you see ?" asks Molly. 
 
 " Nothing," calls back a very disappointed voice ; 
 " only some gravel, and nothing else." 
 
 " It is my turn now," says Molly. 
 
 But she too sees nothing. 
 
 Then Sibyl tries again. She has not been 
 long in the hole this time before she gives a 
 little shriek, which brings Molly down upon her 
 hands and knees as close as she can get to her 
 sister. 
 
 " Oh, Sibyl, what do you see ?" 
 
 " One boot no two boots," answers Sibyl. 
 
 "Are they boots hung out to dry, or are they 
 boots with feet in them ? Why did you say boots f 
 Are they feet ? Be quick, Sibyl." 
 
 " They are walking," cries Sibyl. " Now they 
 are walking faster, now they are out of sight, and 
 ok, Molly !" 
 
 " What else do you see ? Be quick, Sibyl, tell 
 me quick," says Molly, excitedly. 
 
 Sibyl backs out of the hole and faces Molly.
 
 FROM THE HOLE IN THE HEDGE. 139 
 
 There is a bright astonished look in her large dark 
 eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Molly, I saw two furry legs." 
 
 " Besides the boots ?" asks Molly. 
 
 " Yes, besides the boots," says Sibyl. 
 
 " I'll look too," says Molly, but she is unlucky, 
 and sees nothing. 
 
 "Do you know, sister," says Sibyl, in a hushed 
 voice, " who has come to be our next door neigh- 
 bour ?" 
 
 " No," answers Molly. 
 
 " Don't you guess ?" 
 
 " I can't," says Molly, " oh do tell me, Sibyl." 
 
 " It is somebody out of a fairy story. It is 
 Beauty and the Beast !" 
 
 " Oh, but it couldn't be," says Molly. 
 
 " Why not ?" asks Sibyl, crossly. 
 
 " Oh, because ," replies Molly. " Why because 
 . Oh, because I never knew people out of a 
 fairy story come to be our next door neighbours. 
 I am a great deal older than you, Sibyl, dear "
 
 140 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " But you are not as old as Grannie or Uncle 
 Edward," interrupts Sibyl quickly. " And people 
 out of a fairy story might come to be our next 
 door neighbours." 
 
 " Yes, they might" replies Molly, doubtfully. 
 
 " And they must be next door neighbours some- 
 where" argues Sibyl. 
 
 " I believe they stay where they are," says Molly, 
 meekly. 
 
 " Where is that ?" demands Sibyl. 
 
 " Why in our book they are next door neigh- 
 bours to ' Cinderella,' and the ' Yellow Dwarf,' " says 
 Molly, meekly. 
 
 " Well, then, they've got tired of living next door 
 to them, and they have come to live next door to 
 us" says Sibyl, positively. " The fairies told them 
 we were wery nice, and they've come to see us of 
 their own accord." 
 
 " Perhaps they have," says Molly, meekly, but 
 still doubtfully. 
 
 " I am sure it was the Beast's legs I saw," says
 
 FROM THE HOLE IN THE HEDGE. 141 
 
 Sibyl, triumphing over her sister. " Why nobody 
 but a beast would wear fur all down to his boots, 
 Molly." 
 
 " No, I suppose they wouldn't," says Molly. 
 " Don't you think we could both squeeze into the 
 hole ? Perhaps I should see him if I was with you, 
 Sibyl. You are lucky." 
 
 " Yes, I are," says Sibyl, much pacified. " Let 
 us try, sister." 
 
 Jacob has finished his marketing quickly, and is 
 back all too soon. The first thing he does on his 
 return home is to take a walk round his beloved 
 garden to make sure that nothing has happened 
 during his short absence. 
 
 Soon he comes upon a hole in the hedge, out of 
 which appear a fat pair of legs, a thin pair of legs, 
 some white petticoats, the upturned soles of two 
 little pairs of shoes, the toes of which are stuck 
 fast in the ground. Jacob's sight is failing, and he 
 thinks they are cats. 
 
 " If it ain't them nasty white cats of Widow
 
 142 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 Wilson's," he mutters to himself, " and they does 
 a sight of mischief, scampering over the flower- 
 beds. Es-ss-sss-ss-sss-sss-sss," and Jacob hisses 
 until he is out of breath. 
 
 " They don't take no notice, the impudent things," 
 he mutters. " I must ax the master to let me keep 
 a dog. He'll send them to the right-abouts. I'll 
 just fetch a squirt now and give 'em a bit of my 
 mind." 
 
 But when Jacob comes back, the cats have 
 turned into two grubby and red-faced little maidens 
 who are shaking the dirt from their dresses, capes, 
 and sun-bonnets. There is a large hole in the 
 hedge, and two of Jacob's finest chrysanthemums 
 are broken off at the roots, and lie upon the ground 
 at his feet. 
 
 The old man is extremely cross, but his scold- 
 ings fall upon deaf ears. Sibyl is so taken up 
 with Beauty and the Beast, that she hardly hears 
 what he says ; while Molly, who only imagines 
 it is his complaint that is troubling him, makes
 
 FROM THE HOLE IN THE HEDGE. 143 
 
 him ten times worse by saying in a pitying 
 voice, 
 
 " Poor, poor Jacob." 
 
 "A purring over me as if I was one of they 
 nasty cats," grumbles Jacob, as they walk placidly 
 off hand-in-hand. " And never so much as saying 
 they are sorry for the mischief they have done. 
 There ! for hard-heartedness, and mischief, and 
 stubbornness, there is nothing equals girls ! I'd 
 a deal rayther have a dozen boys here for the 
 holidays than they two girls all the year round. 
 Boys is wild, but they have their feelings, and that 
 is more than can be said of girls. There's no 
 making no impression on girls, oh no !" 
 
 And when next Molly and Sibyl visit their hole 
 for another peep, they find it filled tightly in with 
 the prickliest of brambles Jacob could get and he 
 went a long way in search of them.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MOLLY, SIBYL, AND PRINCE CHARMING. 
 
 T)RINCE Charming is away with his father, 
 upon a visit for a couple of days. Perhaps 
 if he had been at home the little sisters would have 
 been too much occupied with him to think of the 
 mischief into which they are falling, and in that 
 case this story would never have been written. 
 
 Grannie has a headache, and is lying down upon 
 her bed. But before she leaves the drawing-room 
 she sees Molly and Sibyl seated upon two hassocks, 
 each with a handkerchief ready to hem. She says 
 she hopes she shall find that Molly has done a 
 whole side, and Sibyl half a side by the time she 
 comes back to her afternoon tea. 

 
 MOLLY, SIBYL, AND PRINCE CHARMING. 145 
 
 Grannie has taught each of the sisters to work 
 so soon as they could hold a needle. Sibyl can 
 hem very nicely if she chooses. But to-day she 
 does not choose ; she is thinking of Beauty and the 
 Beast. A few minutes pass in silence ; then Sibyl 
 looks up from her work and stretches. 
 
 " Don't like this work, sister," she says. 
 
 " But Grannie wants it done," replies Molly so- 
 berly. 
 
 n My hands are so sticky," says Sibyl, fret- 
 fully. 
 
 " So are mine," says Molly. 
 
 " And my stuff is hard and stiff." 
 
 " So is mine," says Molly. 
 
 "'Harder and stiffer to-day than it ever has been 
 before, sister." 
 
 " So is mine," replies Molly. 
 
 " I shan't do any more of the nasty thing," and 
 in a temper Sibyl throws the handkerchief upon 
 the floor. 
 
 " Oh, Sibyl !" says Molly reproachfully. 
 L
 
 146 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " I don't care if I do get scolded," says Sibyl 
 petulantly. 
 
 " I don't think Grannie ever scolds unless it is 
 for our good," says Molly serenely. " And she is 
 such a dear Grannie." 
 
 " Yes, she is a wery dear Grannie," says Sibyl in 
 a softer tone, and sucking her thumb. 
 
 " And she will be so vexed if we don't do our 
 work, and she said that after we had finished we 
 might amuse ourselves with anything in the room, 
 so long as we're careful," says Molly. 
 
 " May we open the drawers of that thing over 
 there ?" asks Sibyl. 
 
 " Cabinet," suggests Molly. 
 
 " Never mind its name. May we ?" says Sibyl. 
 
 " Yes, if we are careful, and we finish our work 
 first." 
 
 " Then I'll work," says Sibyl, dancing joyfully 
 round the room, "and then we'll look in those 
 drawers, sister. Where is my old hankey gone ? I 
 wonder."
 
 MOLLY, SIBYL, AND PRINCE CHARMING. 147 
 
 She picks up her handkerchief, and fetches her 
 vvorkbox, for one of the fairy needles which are 
 usually kept for best. Then she settles down with 
 wrinkled brows and an earnest air. 
 
 In twenty minutes the work is finished, the hand- 
 kerchiefs are folded up, patted down, and put upon 
 Grannie's table. 
 
 " Now for the drawers," says Sibyl, leading the 
 way. 
 
 The deep drawer is filled with Indian curio- 
 sities. Beetles' wings, embroidered bags and slip- 
 pers, a small case of butterflies, a tiny silver vase 
 chased with gold, a carved ivory paper-knife, &c., 
 &c., &c. 
 
 The next drawer is full of Swiss carvings, and 
 lying upon the top is a carved wooden card-case, 
 dark wood with light leaves trailing over it. 
 
 " It opens," says Sibyl, pouncing upon it. 
 
 " Oh, you have seen that a great many times," 
 says Molly, who is showwoman. "That is only 
 Grannie's card-case." But Sibyl has opened it, and
 
 148 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 taken out one of the cards. She lays it upon her 
 little hand, which it almost covers. 
 
 " Now then, Sibyl, put it back again before I 
 show you anything else," says Molly. " You have 
 looked at it long enough. There is nothing to see 
 in it." 
 
 But Sibyl does not stir, she seems fascinated by 
 the card ; suddenly she turns upon Molly. A 
 shadow of coming mischief lies darkling in her 
 green eyes. 
 
 " Molly," she says, " let us call upon Beauty and 
 the Beast ourselves. We can take one of Grannie's 
 cards and leave it." 
 
 " Oh, Sibyl," says Molly, in a shocked voice. 
 " How can you think of such a thing ? Put the 
 card-case back at once." 
 
 " Grannie won't be neighbourly, and we will," 
 persists Sibyl. " Let us go, Molly. I do want so 
 wery much to see Beauty and the Beast." 
 
 If Molly had taken the card-case into her own 
 hands at that moment, had put it into the drawer,
 
 MOLLY, SIBYL, AND PRINCE CHARMING. 149 
 
 and shut the drawer upon it, Sibyl would have 
 pouted and frowned, but would have forgotten the 
 whole affair in a few minutes. But Molly does not 
 do this she stands still and hesitates. 
 
 " It will be lovely," says Sibyl. " We will leave 
 it at the door without going in. Grannie does 
 sometimes, you know, and then they will come and 
 see us, and we shall go and see them." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose we should," says Molly slowly. 
 " Because I asked Grannie the other day if she 
 would go and see our next door neighbours if they 
 came to see us, and Grannie said, ' Certainly, my 
 dear.' But suppose dear Grannie should be vexed, 
 sister. We should be very sorry if we made her 
 sorry." 
 
 " Grannie doesn't know they are Beauty and the 
 Beast," says Sibyl, " and she wouldn't believe if we 
 said they were. But she won't mind when she does 
 know, Molly, 'cause she said the other day when I 
 was telling her about Beauty and the Beast 
 Grannie said they were wery old friends of hers,
 
 150 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 and that she knew them when she was quite a 
 little girl. And she likes her old friends, she says 
 she do" 
 
 " Does, not do" says Molly. " That's bad gram- 
 mar." 
 
 " Never mind," replies Sibyl. 
 
 Now Molly, being older than Sibyl, does not in 
 the least believe it is Beauty and the Beast who 
 have come to be their next door neighbours, but 
 she is quite as anxious as her sister to see who it 
 really is : so though a little voice keeps whispering, 
 " Molly, it is wrong ; Molly, Molly, you know it is 
 wrong," she will not listen to the little voice, and 
 after a bit it grows slower and fainter, and then 
 dies away altogether. 
 
 " If we leave the card, Sibyl," she says, " we 
 will put our names as well as Grannie's. They 
 will like to know we have called as well as 
 Grannie." 
 
 " But we can't print," says Sibyl, opening her 
 eyes wide. " The card is print, Molly dear."
 
 MOLLY, SIBYL, AND PRINCE CHARMING. 151 
 
 " We will write our names under Grannie's 
 name. I have seen Grannie write Cousin Mil- 
 ly's name when she was staying here," says 
 Molly. 
 
 " How you 'member things, Molly dear," replies 
 Sibyl admiringly. " Write it in big large writing, 
 not in your beautiful small writing what is so clever 
 that no one can read it." 
 
 Molly seats herself in a chair in front of the 
 writing-table, Sibyl kneels down upon a chair by 
 her side. Molly chooses a pen and dips it into 
 the ink. 
 
 A large blot falls upon the card. 
 
 " That's a kiss," says Sibyl in delight. " The 
 Beast will like to have a kiss. Make another kiss, 
 Molly dear. One from you, and one from me. 
 Oh, and one from Grannie one, two, three three. 
 Three kisses one from each of us." 
 
 " That one is so big it will do from all of us," 
 says Molly. " Now don't talk, Sibyl, or I can't 
 write."
 
 152 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 Sibyl is quiet as a mouse, and watches with great 
 interest every turn of her sister's pen. 
 
 The two names are written under Grannie's 
 "Molly and Sibyl." Then Molly rests. Both 
 children gaze at it admiringly, and Sibyl gives it 
 a little pat. 
 
 " Oh, but you mustn't leave out Prince Charm- 
 ing, Molly," she cries at length. " Put him in now, 
 directly. We mustn't leave him out. He'll like to 
 see the Beast wery, wery much." 
 
 " Shall I put ' Arthur,' or ' Prince Charming ?' " 
 asks Molly. 
 
 " Prince Charming," says Sibyl. " I'll spell it for 
 you, if you don't know how. P-r " 
 
 " Oh, I know," interrupts Molly, and sets to her 
 task again. 
 
 " There's another blot," says Sibyl in the highest 
 glee. " That's two big kisses. Now it's quite 
 done. How lovely it looks, Molly dear." 
 
 This is the card when Molly has finished it.
 
 MOLLY, SIBYL, AND PRINCE CHARMING. 153 
 
 
 " Now double it up," cries Sibyl. 
 
 " Oh, but, Sibyl," says Molly very decidedly, " I 
 don't believe Grannie ever doubles up her cards. 
 She gives them in at the door quite _/?#/." 
 
 " You are not quite sure," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Very nearly sure," answers Molly, " but not 
 quite certain, positive." 
 
 " Grannie doubles up her letters with writing on 
 them," says Sibyl, " and this card has writing upon
 
 154 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 it. You are not quite certain, positive, sister, so 
 we'll double up the card, 'cause it's got writing on it." 
 
 " I am nearly sure," says Molly, as she unwill- 
 ingly folds the card in two. 
 
 " Now we'll sealing-wax him," says the excited 
 Sibyl, as her glistening eyes catch sight of the seal- 
 ing-wax. 
 
 " You should say ' it' and not ' him,' when you 
 mean things, Uncle Edward says so," replies 
 Molly. " And I am quite sure that Grannie never 
 sealing-waxes her cards, quite sure." 
 
 " It won't stick if it isn't sealing-waxed," cries 
 Sibyl, briskly. " Here are the lucifers. You light 
 one, sister, 'cause when I lighted a lucifer it burnt 
 my finger," and Sibyl nurses her finger and looks 
 grave over the memory of it. 
 
 Molly shakes her head and sighs as she takes 
 the lucifer match from her sister's outstretched 
 hand. 
 
 " Let me drop the sealing-wax," says Sibyl, 
 quickly. "There, now I've dropped two little
 
 MOLLY, SIBYL, AND PRINCE CHARMING. 155 
 
 drops as well. That's two more kisses. There is 
 a kiss from each of us now, Molly, dear." 
 
 The card is ready at last with two kisses in ink, 
 and two in sealing-wax, neatly folded in the middle 
 and sealed with Grannie's crest. This is how it 
 looks when it is doubled up 
 
 " We can take it after we have had our tea," says 
 Sibyl. 
 
 " Let us leave it until to-morrow," suggests 
 Molly. " For I am quite sure Grannie never pays 
 visits in the evening, Sibyl." 
 
 " Oh, but it must go to-day," says Sibyl, in
 
 I $6 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 feverish haste, " and it need not be evening after 
 tea. We can call it afternoon." 
 
 Near upon six o'clock two little figures may be 
 seen stealing in at the iron gates and walking, 
 hand-in-hand, along the short avenue of trees lead- 
 ing to the Red House. But when they reach the 
 big door, closely studded with iron nails, they find 
 the bell far beyond their reach. Not even, when 
 Molly lifts Sibyl in her arms, can they get near 
 enough to pull it. And after trying some time 
 they are obliged to give it up. 
 
 " Let us slip it under the door," says Sibyl. 
 
 Molly is about to answer that Grannie never 
 slips the cards under the door, she is quite sure of 
 that, when she remembers that there is nowhere 
 else where they can put it, for letter-boxes have 
 not reached this part of the world yet. So she 
 says nothing. And the card is slipped underneath 
 the door, with its four names, its four kisses, and its 
 big seal. Who will be the first to find it, Beauty 
 or the Beast ? That we shall hear by-and-by.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 
 
 " Oh, Molly Bawn, why leave me pining, 
 All lonely waiting here for you ?" 
 
 Old Song. 
 
 " T)RINCE Charming, I never thought you could 
 be so unkind." 
 
 " No, we never did." 
 
 Outside the gates leading to the Red House is 
 an old tree with thick roots twisting and twining 
 out of one another until they form quite a com- 
 fortable seat. It is here that Molly and Sibyl have 
 seated themselves, while, standing beside them, hat 
 in hand, is Prince Charming. The wind blows his
 
 158 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 yellow curls astray, tears stand in his sweet brown 
 eyes, and his usually pale face is flushed a deep 
 rose-red. 
 
 " Oh, Molly," he answers piteously, " I do not 
 want to be unkind. It vexes me so very much 
 that you think me unkind. Dear, dear Molly, I 
 would do anything for you." 
 
 " No, you will not," answers Molly, " for we have 
 just asked you to pay a visit with us, and you 
 won't come." 
 
 "And we wrote your name upon the card and 
 all," says Sibyl's injured voice. "Just pay this 
 one little wisit with us, Prince Charming, and we 
 will never ask you to do nothing again," (in a very 
 coaxing voice.) 
 
 " I wish you would ask me to do things," cries 
 Arthur. "You know how much I love you, and 
 how I like to do things for you." 
 
 " We don't believe that you love us," says Sibyl 
 obstinately. 
 
 " No,, we don't," says Molly grimly.
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 159 
 
 There is a long silence, such a long silence, 
 and they are all three so quiet, that a mouse ven- 
 tures out of its hole to peep at them, and then 
 runs away. 
 
 " Grannie does not know," says Arthur in a low 
 voice, at last. " Oh, Molly, please give it up." 
 
 " We won't give it up," says Molly firmly, " and 
 if you loved us, you would come with us." 
 
 " Yes, you would," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Father would say it is not right, I am sure he 
 would," replies Arthur as firmly as Molly herself 
 has spoken. 
 
 " Come along, Sibyl, it is no use talking to him," 
 and the sisters get up, join hand-in-hand, march 
 past Arthur, push open one of the gates, squeeze 
 through it, and stand upon the other side of them. 
 
 Arthur springs forward. 
 
 " Stop, Molly, stop !" he cries, beating with his 
 little white hands against the gate which does not 
 open. " Stop just one minute, dear Molly, I want 
 to say something I really do."
 
 160 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 They are very close to each other as they turn 
 to face him, with only the iron bars of the gate 
 between them. Just for a second they stand gaz- 
 ing into each other's eyes, Arthur flushed and 
 appealing, stretching out an arm, longing to draw 
 them back ; Molly, sturdy and obstinate ; Sibyl, 
 wilful and petulant, a pout upon the rose-bud 
 mouth, mischief working in the green eyes. 
 
 " You haven't said it," says Molly at length. 
 " What is it ?" 
 
 " 'Cause we are in a hurry," says Sibyl, tossing 
 her head. 
 
 " I do not think it is right," says Arthur, in a 
 trembling voice, " and Father told me once that 
 when we do anything that is not right, it takes us 
 a great way off from GOD, and we have to be very, 
 very sorry before we can get quite close to Him 
 again. Dear Molly, you don't want to get a long 
 way off from GOD, I am sure you don't. Do please, 
 dear Molly, give it up and come home with me, 
 and we will have such a nice game of play."
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 161 
 
 Arthur's pleading is so earnest, that for the 
 moment Molly hesitates. A drizzling rain is be- 
 ginning to fall, and forgetting their quarrel for the 
 moment, she holds out a warning hand. 
 
 " Put on your hat at once, Prince Charming, or 
 you will catch cold," she says in her motherly pro- 
 tecting way. 
 
 " We have got on our best bonnets," says Sibyl, 
 " won't the rain spoil the feathers, Molly dear ?" 
 
 " Yes," replies Molly, hastily. " We must hurry," 
 and they turn their backs upon Prince Charming 
 and his pleading face. 
 
 "Oh, Molly, don't go," he cries once again. 
 " Come back, Molly. Dear, dear Molly, come 
 back." 
 
 " Never," says Molly, as she draws herself up and 
 walks stiffly along the gravel path, " Never, never, 
 never will I love my next door neighbour again." 
 
 But Arthur does not see, nor Sibyl either, that 
 even as Molly is saying these cruel words, two 
 large tears have gathered in her dark eyes, roll 
 
 M
 
 162 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 slowly down her cheeks and splash upon her 
 dress. 
 
 When they are out of sight Arthur sits down 
 upon the roots of the tree and cries heart-brokenly. 
 He fears he has offended them hopelessly, he 
 knows how much he loves them, and he feels how 
 lonely he shall be without the two sisters to share 
 his interests much lonelier than ever he was be- 
 fore, because now he will miss them, and we cannot 
 miss things we have never had. For full half an 
 hour he sits there in the drizzling rain, shivering, 
 sad, and uncomfortable, keeping a loving, longing, 
 wistful gaze upon the iron gates, hoping every 
 minute that two little white figures will steal 
 through the gloomy trees, and he shall be able to 
 make peace with them. 
 
 In the meanwhile Grannie thinks that Molly and 
 Sibyl are safe at Riverside, and Ccrisette never 
 dreams but that Arthur is at Shadie Cottage with 
 the sisters where he is always to be found when 
 he is missing.
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 163 
 
 Unknown to Maria, the sisters have dressed 
 themselves in their best. They are alike, as usual. 
 Their frocks are white cashmere, trimmed with 
 white silk, and with white capes to match. Their 
 bonnets are drawn white silk with a tiny plume of 
 white feathers upon one side. Their stockings are 
 black silk, and their shoes have black rosettes. 
 
 It is not a cheerful afternoon. The wind moans 
 sorrowfully through the branches every now and 
 then, breaking off a dry twig or handful of withered 
 leaves, and dropping it at the children's feet. 
 Overhead dark clouds drift quickly, as if in a hurry 
 to get home. The sky is grey from one end to 
 the other, and the misty rain falls steadily, drearily. 
 
 Even fearless Molly shivers as they come in 
 sight of the Red House. It is large and gloomy, 
 the big door in the middle of it closely shut and 
 the windows gazing blankly at them. It has not a 
 neighbourly look. How are they to get in, as they 
 cannot reach to ring the bell ? 
 
 " There are always two doors to a house,"
 
 164 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 says Molly, briskly. " Let us find the other 
 door." 
 
 " It will be somewhere round the corner," says 
 Sibyl, and they pass through a trellis-work gate to 
 find themselves in the midst of the garden at the 
 back of the house. 
 
 It is a perfect wilderness, but in the orchard be- 
 yond the wind is shaking down from the trees 
 whole showers of ungathered fruit. The sisters 
 stand for a few minutes fascinated by the ripe red 
 and golden rain as it patters into the long grass. 
 Then they trot along hand-in-hand to search for 
 the second door. 
 
 A square paved -courtyard is before them, which 
 leads them to the back of the house. When they 
 have crossed this they find a stone archway. No 
 one is to be seen, everything is as quiet as the 
 dead of night, and the silence is only broken by 
 the patter of their little feet as they enter under 
 the archway and along a broad stone passage. At 
 the end of this is a flight of stairs with a door at
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 165 
 
 the top ; it is not locked, so they push it open and 
 enter. As it shuts behind them it gives such a 
 loud bang that both Molly and Sibyl jump and 
 look at each other in a frightened manner. Just 
 for a minute they hold their breath, then take 
 courage and glance around them. They have two 
 ways from which to choose. To their right are 
 three steps, leading to a long passage with doors 
 on either side. To their left is a long, low flight of 
 stairs leading upwards. Both pairs of eyes seek 
 this staircase, and without speaking they begin to 
 ascend it. It ends in a long corridor, with places 
 for pictures upon one side of it and numbers of 
 doors upon the other. 
 
 " There are a great many doors," says Sibyl. 
 " Which shall we knock at, Molly dear ?" 
 
 They knock gently at the first door, then 
 louder, then louder still. But there is no answer, 
 nothing stirs, and all is quiet as the dead of 
 night. 
 
 " Perhaps the poor Beast is z7/, and Beauty can't
 
 166 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 leave him," says Sibyl. " Hadn't we better open 
 the door a tiny bit, sister, and look in ?" 
 
 Molly turns the handle slowly and gently, and 
 the two pairs of curious eyes open wide with as- 
 tonishment as they look. The room is large and 
 empty, not even a chair to show that it has ever 
 been occupied. 
 
 " He is not at home in this room," says Sibyl, 
 " but there is a door in that corner, perhaps he is 
 in that room, sister dear." 
 
 They cross the floor which is thickly covered 
 with dust. Sibyl glances at it in disgust, and lifts 
 the skirt of her short white frock daintily up as 
 if it could possibly touch the ground. 
 
 " Grannie would scold Ellen if she left all that 
 dust about in our house," she says shaking her 
 head gravely. " I don't think the Beast looks after 
 his servants p'operly, Molly dear." 
 
 " Perhaps he does not," answers Molly placidly. 
 Then they knock at the door in the corner of the 
 room, but there is still no answer, and upon open-
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 167 
 
 ing it, they find it as large, and dusty, and empty 
 as the one they have left behind them. 
 
 But there are still doors to tempt them on, and 
 they have crossed eight or ten of these large, empty 
 rooms, most of them with two or three steps lead- 
 ing down into them, when Sibyl comes to a stand- 
 still. 
 
 " Oh, Molly," she says in a panic of fear, grasp- 
 ing her sister's wrist tightly, " s'pose we shouldn't be 
 able to find our way back again ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, it is quite straight," says Molly calmly. 
 
 She is not nervous, and it takes a great deal to 
 frighten her. Sibyl's spirits rise as she looks in 
 Molly's face. 
 
 "The Beast has plenty of rooms to growl in," 
 she says, jumping daintily over a heap of fluff and 
 dust, " but if we are not clean when we call upon 
 him it will be all his fault for keeping his rooms so 
 dusty. Molly, do you think Grannie would lend 
 him Ellen to clean up for him a bit ?" 
 
 " Ellen has enough to do to keep our house
 
 168 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR, 
 
 clean," says Molly. " No, I don't think Grannie 
 would lend him Ellen, but she might get ano- 
 ther Ellen for him, and that would do just as 
 well." 
 
 " We will ask her," says Sibyl delightedly. " I 
 'spect the poor Beast wants amoosing like Prince 
 Charming, and the nice doctor sent him down here 
 for us to be his medicine. Don't you think so, 
 sister dear ?" 
 
 But Molly does not answer. She is ahead of 
 Sibyl, and she is so accustomed to go out of one 
 large empty room into another that she is sur- 
 prised when the last door she has opened brings 
 her down three low steps into a narrow oak pas- 
 sage. It is long and dark, but the two sisters grope 
 their way along it until they are stopped by a 
 handle. Molly turns the handle, the door is not 
 locked, but it does not open so readily as the 
 others something is in the way. 
 
 " Perhaps it is a dress," suggests Sibyl, whose 
 eyes and wits are quick. " Cook hangs up her
 
 I'AGE 109.
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 169 
 
 dresses behind the door. The Beast would not 
 wear dresses, but Beauty would. Push hard, 
 sister." 
 
 " I think it is a curtain," says Molly, but she 
 pushes hard, and they squeeze through. The door 
 closes behind them with a snap, the curtain falls 
 into its place, and Molly and Sibyl find themselves 
 in a square unfurnished room, the floor of dark 
 oak, and the walls hung from the top to the bottom 
 with tapestry. 
 
 " Oh, what lovely pictures !" says Sibyl admir- 
 ingly. "I wonder if the Beast painted them all 
 himself? I am tired, Molly ; I cannot go any 
 further until I am rested. Let us look at the 
 pictures." 
 
 " Very well," replies Molly. 
 
 The light comes from a window in the roof, 
 there is no fire-place, and each side of the wall is 
 one large picture worked in tapestry. 
 
 The first, from which they turn with a shudder, 
 is a battle-field, a mass of arms and legs, strug-
 
 i;o OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 gling horses, and falling men. Not a pleasant 
 subject to rest your eyes upon. 
 
 The second is prettier. Green trees, many 
 coloured flower-beds, and a broad gravel walk 
 leading to a castle with tall towers. 
 
 The third is the same castle. A man in bright 
 armour is riding down the gravel path, turning 
 back to wave his hand to a lady, who is leaning 
 over one of the towers throwing kisses to him. 
 
 The fourth picture is the same castle again, with 
 the same man in armour, only this time he is 
 riding towards the castle, and a great many people 
 are waiting to welcome him. And coming to meet 
 him is the lady who threw kisses to him, carrying 
 a child in her arms, with another clinging to her 
 dress. 
 
 " Now we will go," says Sibyl. " How are we 
 to get out ? I don't see any door, sister." 
 
 " We must lift up the curtains to find the door," 
 says Molly. " How queer it is to paint pictures 
 upon curtains, isn't it, Sibyl ?"
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 171 
 
 " Wery quare indeed," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Here is the handle," says Molly cheerfully. " I 
 am glad I have found it, for now we shall not have 
 to go back all through those dusty rooms." 
 
 She turns the handle, but the door does not 
 move. She pulls it sharply to try if it is locked, 
 when it instantly flies open with a whizzing sound ; 
 there is a low step, over which they quickly pass, 
 and the door at once closes with the same noise it 
 made when it opened. 
 
 They are in a small square-shaped room, lighted 
 from above like the one they have left, and with a 
 dark oak floor. But the walls are covered with 
 pictures, not pictures hung up, but pictures painted 
 upon the wall. There is not a space an inch square 
 that is left uncoloured. The two sisters for some 
 minutes are lost in admiration, and walk about 
 hand-in-hand looking and praising. 
 
 " I think we had better go on now," says Sibyl 
 rather uneasily. 
 
 " Oh, yes," says Molly cheerfully, " for it would
 
 174 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 in the welwet coat it is wery rude of him to laugh 
 at us. He ought to help us to find the door. 
 Molly, take me home at once to dear Grannie." 
 
 Poor Molly does not answer. She gazes despair- 
 ingly about her, and then sets to work to press, 
 with her hands all round the room, hoping, against 
 hope, to find the door by which they entered. She 
 does not know that it is cunningly painted into a 
 picture to look as if it were part of the picture. And 
 how they tease her, these pictures, with their merry 
 mocking faces. She is so inclined to cry, but then 
 she must not cry because of Sibyl. If both give 
 way what will become of them ? They may stay 
 here for ever and starve, for there is no sound or 
 sign of any living creature, though Sibyl's screams 
 must have pierced the thickest walls. She closes 
 her eyes to shut out the sight of the pictures, and 
 then answers cheerfully, 
 
 " Don't cry, Sibyl dear, it makes me want to cry 
 too. There must be a door somewhere, and if we 
 got in we are sure to be able to get out."
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 175 
 
 Then cheered by her own brave words, she goes 
 round and round the room again, hopefully feeling 
 each separate panel. 
 
 From underneath her eye-lashes Sibyl watches 
 her, and ceases screaming. But Molly's heart is 
 beating faster, and a frightened look is coming into 
 her roguish blue eyes. Was it true what Prince 
 Charming said ? Is it not very wrong of them to 
 disobey Grannie, when Grannie asked them in such 
 a gentle way to trust her and be good little chil- 
 dren ? Dear Grannie is so kind to them always. 
 And can it be that by being so naughty they have 
 got such a long way off from GOD that He has 
 forgotten them altogether, and will not have them 
 for His little children any more ? It is a dreadful 
 thought. Molly draws a long breath, and great 
 tears fill her eyes, but she sends them back with 
 an effort. In the midst of her terror and uneasi- 
 ness, the brave little woman still keeps up, for 
 Sibyl's sake. 
 
 She leans against one of the pictures. Her heart
 
 176 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 is beating very fast, but she tries to steady her 
 voice as she says, 
 
 " Don't you think, sister, we shall feel better if 
 we say our little hymn that Grannie taught us to 
 say when we are not very well ? 
 
 ' In my little bed I lie, 
 Looking up unto the sky.' 
 
 That is the one I mean, Sibyl." 
 
 " It is wicked to say it," says Sibyl pettishly. 
 " It is telling a story, 'cause I am not lying on my 
 little bed, but on this nasty hard floor, and you are 
 standing on your own two legs, you know you are, 
 Molly." 
 
 " Then shall we say Grannie's Psalm ' The LORD 
 is my Shepherd,' " suggests Molly meekly. 
 
 " Why should we say it ?" asks Sibyl obstinately. 
 " It is not bedtime yet." 
 
 Molly is silent, she does not like to frighten 
 Sibyl by telling her the thoughts that have come 
 into her mind, but what is she to do if her sister 
 will not help her by being good and reasonable ?
 
 THE ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR. 177 
 
 She crosses her hands over her chest, to keep back 
 the sobs that are almost choking her, then shuts 
 her eyes and presses her head against the panel 
 while she begins to say to herself the little hymn. 
 In one minute the picture against which she is 
 leaning gives way with a crack ! snap ! like the re- 
 port of a gun, and Molly is jerked backward into 
 another room, falling heavily against a chair. The 
 pain is sharp, but the soft crown of her bonnet 
 saves her from being seriously hurt. Loud, pierc- 
 ing screams warn her that Sibyl is alone in the 
 room without a door ; she gets up quickly and 
 finds, to her great relief, that a little piece of her 
 cape has caught in the panel. She pushes it open 
 wider with all her strength, and calls quickly to 
 Sibyl to come, for the door has a spring fastening, 
 and she finds it difficult, though she does not know 
 why, to keep it open. And as she waits for Sibyl, 
 she turns and looks quickly round the room she 
 has so strangely entered. 
 
 N
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 GRANNIE'S VERY OLD FRIEND. 
 
 T If 7" HAT a comfort it is to see tables, and 
 * * chairs, and carpets again after passing 
 through so many unfurnished, dusty rooms, and 
 then being shut up in that mysterious room with- 
 out a door. In spite of her pain, Molly smiles 
 with content as she sees, from the fire which is 
 blazing half way up the chimney and the little 
 round table covered with a white cloth, drawn in 
 front of it, that somebody lives here. The fire 
 looks so comfortable too this chilly autumn even- 
 ing, with the drizzling rain beating against the
 
 GRANNIE'S VERY OLD FRIEND. 179 
 
 window panes, and the wind howling drearily round 
 the house. 
 
 Sibyl is very cautious. Before she ventures 
 into another unknown room, she takes a peep 
 first to , see what it is like. Just as she does so, 
 a door nearly opposite to them opens, and some- 
 thing large and furry enters, closing the door 
 behind it. 
 
 A wild frightened look in Sibyl's eyes makes 
 Molly turn, and she too sees this big, furry figure. 
 In an eager, breathless whisper Sibyl says, 
 
 " Oh Molly, it is the Beast !" 
 
 " Don't be frightened, Sibyl, dear," says Molly, 
 soothingly, though her own heart is beating wildly. 
 " You wanted to see him, you know." 
 
 " He's oh Molly ! Molly !" (in the same ter- 
 rified whisper,) "He's taking off his skin f" and 
 Sibyl seizes hold of the first thing she can grasp, 
 which happens to be a lock of Molly's hair. Molly 
 bears the pain without screaming, and only tries to 
 soothe Sibyl.
 
 i8o OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " But Sibyl, you know, the Beast turned into a 
 handsome Prince," she says. 
 
 At this moment the Beast, a tall, big man, 
 with curling hair the colour of a lion's mane, 
 and a heavy moustache to match, catches sight 
 of the two sisters. He is more surprised to 
 see them than they are to see him, and for a 
 few seconds he wonders if he is dreaming or 
 awake. 
 
 Sibyl stands in the midst of the open panel, 
 just preparing to step out of it. Her bonnet has 
 fallen to the back of her head, her large curl has 
 come unfastened, and lies in a fluffy, golden-brown 
 wreath across her forehead. Her shadowy eyes 
 are dark with wonder and terror ; her lips are 
 parted, as if about to speak. One of her hands 
 grasps Molly's hair, the other supports her against 
 the panel as she bends forward. Molly is turned 
 partly towards Sibyl, her face white with pain, and 
 her large dark eyes gazing protectingly at her. 
 Both the sisters are as still as if they were carved
 
 GRANNIE'S VERY OLD FRIEND. 181 
 
 in marble. The Beast shakes himself, then strides 
 across the room to their side. 
 
 " Are you real children," he says, " and if so, how 
 did you get here ?" 
 
 At the sound of the friendly voice Sibyl's alarm 
 vanishes. 
 
 " What have you done with your skin ?" she says, 
 " and why did you take it off?" 
 
 " Do you mean my fur coat ?" asks the Beast. 
 " I never wear it in the house. It is only for out- 
 of-doors." 
 
 " Our book does not say that," says Sibyl, puck- 
 ering her eyebrows. " But we are wery glad to see 
 you," she continues, with the air of an empress, 
 giving him her tiny hand and stepping quite out of 
 the open panel. Molly is delighted to let it go, 
 for it has been painful work holding it. Now it 
 shuts with the same crack ! snap ! just as if a pistol 
 were going off. 
 
 " Thank you," the Beast replies to Sibyl's re- 
 mark, and looking amused. Then as his eye falls
 
 182 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 upon Molly, " But how white you are, my child. 
 Are you ill ?" 
 
 " I fell down and hurt my head," says Molly, 
 faintly putting up her hand to the back of her 
 head. 
 
 The Beast, if it is he, lifts her in his strong arms, 
 sets her in an arm-chair, and gives her a glass of 
 water to drink. 
 
 " Now, lie quite still and do not attempt to 
 speak," he says. " Your sister I suppose she is 
 your sister will tell me how you came here. Lie 
 quite still and shut your eyes." 
 
 Molly does as she is bid, and feels the rest very 
 pleasant, for she was sick and stunned with the 
 pain of her fall. Sibyl seats herself in a low rock- 
 ing-chair, leans back in it, brings the tips of her 
 fingers together, and looks at the Beast. 
 
 " We came to pay you a wisit," she says, " and 
 we couldn't find you. We got into a nasty room 
 without any door, and Molly fell through one of 
 the pictures."
 
 GRANNIE'S VERY OLD FRIEND. 183 
 
 " Ah ! The picture-room," says the Beast. " If 
 you once got in tJiere I wonder you ever found 
 your way out of it. I should have said it was 
 almost impossible to find the spring unless you 
 knew the secret." 
 
 " What secret," inquires Sibyl, curiously. 
 
 " I will show you some day, but your sister 
 would like to see too, and she must stay quiet for 
 a while. How did you get into the picture- 
 room ?" 
 
 " We came through a great many empty rooms, 
 and wery dusty indeed they were," says Sibyl, in a 
 reproving voice. 
 
 " Then you entered by the back of the house," 
 says the Beast, " and how did you get out of the 
 picture-room ?" 
 
 " It was Molly found the way," replies Sibyl. 
 " She just tumbled through one of the pictures and 
 held it open for me." 
 
 " She touched the spring by accident," says the 
 Beast. " You must not think I am not pleased at
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 this unlooked-for visit, if I ask you why you have 
 come to see me. You do not know me, do 
 you ?" 
 
 " We have never seen you before, Molly and 
 me," says Sibyl, quietly. " But you are a wery old 
 friend of Grannie's. She knew you when she was 
 quite a little girl." 
 
 " I think she must have made some mistake," 
 says the Beast, " for I was born in Russia and have 
 only just come to England." 
 
 " She is not our grannie but our great-grannie," 
 explains Sibyl, " and she is the wery nicest grannie 
 in the whole world." 
 
 " Ay," says the Beast, " and how old may your 
 Grannie be ? I am afraid it is not a very polite 
 question, but you will excuse it, perhaps." 
 
 " Our Grannie was eighty-three her last birth- 
 day," says Sibyl, promptly. " But she never gets 
 no older." 
 
 " Dear me," says the Beast. 
 
 " She always looks the same, never no older, and
 
 GRANNIE'S VERY OLD FRIEND. 185 
 
 she never grows," says Sibyl. " She has always 
 looked the same ever since we came to live with 
 her, and that is a long time, oh, a wery long time 
 ago." 
 
 " I am sure I could not have had the pleasure 
 of knowing your Grannie, perhaps it was my 
 father." 
 
 " Oh, but she says so," interrupts Sibyl, indig- 
 nantly, " and our Grannie never tells stories, and 
 she never lets Molly or me tell them. She says 
 it is wery wicked. And Grannie said you were 
 a wery old friend of hers. She knew you when 
 she was quite a little girl. Perhaps you don't 
 'member, but our Grannie 'members." 
 
 " Do you know my name ?" asks the Beast. 
 
 " Oh, yes," replies Sibyl, readily. " Ever since 
 we looked through the hedge and saw your two 
 furry legs." 
 
 " Yes !" says the Beast, " and what is my 
 name ?" 
 
 " Why, The Beast, of course," says Sibyl, quietly.
 
 i86 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 At the sound of his own name the Beast starts, 
 then pulls away rather fiercely at his tawny 
 moustache. 
 
 " It is the queerest thing I ever heard in my 
 life" he begins. 
 
 " What is quare ?" asks Sibyl, in a frightened 
 voice. " You are not cross, are you ? 'Cause if 
 you are going to growl, Molly and me would 
 rather go." 
 
 " No, no, I am not thinking of growling, I assure 
 you. Sit still and tell me why you call me by 
 that unpleasant name ?" 
 
 " Why it is your name," says Sibyl. " You 
 are the Beast. You have changed into a hand- 
 some Prince now, only you will be the Beast 
 again when you put on your skin. But where 
 is Beauty? Hasn't her papa stolen the roses 
 yet ?" 
 
 At this the Beast laughs a hearty, ringing 
 laugh ; and Sibyl, much offended, sucks her thumb, 
 and looks gravely at him.
 
 GRANNfE'S VERY OLD FRIEND. 187 
 
 " Now I see it all. It is as clear as day- 
 light," he says. " I am sorry to disappoint you, 
 but I must tell you the truth. I am not the 
 Beast, nor any relation of that worthy animal. 
 What you thought was my skin is only a fur 
 coat I bought in Russia, and which I am fond 
 of wearing if it is in the least cold, for I am a 
 very chilly person. My real, true name is Valen- 
 tine Gordon." 
 
 Things real and unreal are most strangely mixed 
 in Sibyl's little head this evening. She gives one 
 startled glance at him, and takes her thumb quickly 
 out of her mouth. 
 
 " A walentine !" she exclaims. " One of those 
 things they sealing-wax and send by post ? Oh, I 
 wouldn't be sealing-waxed and sent by post, if I 
 were you. It must hurt you wery much, I am sure," 
 in a tone of great alarm. 
 
 " No, no," says Mr. Gordon soothingly. " I am 
 never sent by post. My Christian name is Va- 
 lentine, just as your sister's is Molly, and yours
 
 188 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 is , by the way, you have not told me your 
 
 name yet ?" 
 
 " You know my name," says Sibyl. " It was on 
 the card we left." 
 
 " What card ?" he asks. " I saw no card." 
 
 " When we called upon you," says Sibyl. " There 
 was Grannie and me and Molly, and Prince Charm- 
 ing." 
 
 "Ah, I remember now. It was put under the 
 door and doubled up. ' Molly and Sibyl, and 
 Prince Charming.' You are Sibyl, here is Molly, 
 but where is Prince Charming ?" 
 
 "We couldn't get him to come," says Sibyl, 
 shaking her head gravely. " But did you see the 
 kisses we sent you ?" 
 
 " Kisses, no !" he answers. 
 
 " One from me, one from Grannie, one from 
 Molly, and one from Prince Charming. Two blots 
 of ink, and two sealing-wax blots." 
 
 " Ah ! I am very ignorant, and I was not aware 
 those were meant for kisses," says Valentine Gor-
 
 GRANNIE'S VERY OLD FRIEND. 189 
 
 don meekly. " I am sorry I did not return your 
 visit, but it is not usual to notice cards that are 
 pushed under the door." 
 
 "We couldn't reach the bell, and we do know 
 how to behave p'operly, 'cause we go to pay wisits 
 with Grannie," Sibyl explains wistfully. 
 
 " The bell is high," he says ; " we must have 
 it altered in some way." 
 
 "We put on our best dresses to wisit you to- 
 day," says Sibyl. " Grannie only lets us wear them 
 for query best, 'cause she says its 'travagant. And 
 your rooms were wery dusty." 
 
 " I hope you did not soil your pretty white 
 frocks, the prettiest I have seen for a long time," 
 he says. 
 
 " We held them up," says Sibyl gravely. 
 
 " They do not sweep .the ground at any rate," he 
 says, trying to hide a smile. 
 
 " They come just down to our knees," says Sibyl. 
 " Grannie likes to see our legs, she says. Would 
 you like Grannie to lend you Ellen to clean the
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 rooms ? She is a wery good housemaid, Grannie 
 says so." 
 
 " Thank you," he says smiling. " But we have 
 engaged our servants, and I hope the rooms will 
 be furnished and clean by the time you come to 
 see me again. I have been up in London choosing 
 furniture, and I have only just run down here now 
 and then. I am the eldest of a large family. They 
 are all abroad at present, but when the house 
 is ready they will come to fill it, and you will 
 be surprised to find what a number of us there 
 are." 
 
 " Then you don't live by yourself ?" asks 
 Sibyl. 
 
 " Oh, no. What should I do with such a huge 
 house? There are sixteen of us altogether," he 
 replies. 
 
 " My head is almost well," says Molly, whose 
 colour has come back, " and we must go, because 
 Grannie does not know where we are. We are 
 naughty," she says, turning grave, sorrowful eyes,
 
 GRANNIE'S VERY OLD FRIEND. 191 
 
 with not a sparkle of roguishness in them upon 
 Valentine Gordon. " We are very naughty. We 
 did not obey dear Grannie, and we shall have 
 made her so sorry." 
 
 Sibyl hangs her head, when she sees Valentine 
 Gordon's astonished look. 
 
 " Then I am sure you ought to go at once," he 
 says. " I hope your Grannie has not been anxious 
 yet. Do you live far ?" 
 
 " Only next door," says Molly. 
 
 " Shall I take you ?" he asks. 
 
 " Oh, no, thank you, we would rather go by 
 ourselves. We will run very fast," says Molly. 
 
 He shakes hands gravely with both of them. 
 They are very much ashamed of themselves as they 
 run silently home. 
 
 At the door they stop. 
 
 " He never said he hoped he should see us again," 
 says Sibyl in a tearful voice. 
 
 " We have been very naughty," says Molly, " and 
 now we've got to tell Grannie."
 
 192 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " That is the bad part of it," says Sibyl. " Can't 
 we wait a weeny bit, sister dear ?" 
 
 " Oh, no," replies Molly. " We had better do it 
 at once."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 GETTING BACK. 
 
 A S they enter the house they are met by Maria. 
 f^ " Who ever put you on your best dresses to 
 go and play with Master Arthur ?" she exclaims, 
 lifting her hands. " There ! your grandmamma 
 will be put about." 
 
 " But our best dresses is not the worst, there is 
 a great deal worse to come," says Sibyl gloomily. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" begins Maria, but the 
 sisters slip past her into the drawing-room. 
 
 And whom do you think they see there quietly 
 reading the newspaper to Grannie? Whom but 
 Uncle Edward ? He came this afternoon without 
 
 O
 
 194 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 sending a letter first to say he was coming. He 
 wanted to take them by surprise. 
 
 Sibyl plucks Molly's dress. 
 
 " Let us wait to tell Grannie until after Uncle 
 Edward has gone away again." 
 
 But Molly shakes her head, sorrowfully, yet 
 decidedly. 
 
 " You never thought you should see me to-day," 
 says Uncle Edward, opening wide his arms. 
 
 He is prepared for a shout of welcome, a glad 
 rush, and then to be smothered in kisses. He is 
 much surprised to see the sisters stand hand-in- 
 hand in the middle of the room, and make no at- 
 tempt to draw nearer. Molly is very pale, and her 
 blue eyes are cloudy. 
 
 " What ever ails the children ?" cries Uncle Ed- 
 ward, while Grannie sits upright in her chair, and 
 says in a quavering voice, 
 
 " Oh, my loves, I hope you have not hurt your- 
 selves ?" 
 
 " We are two wery bad little girls," says Sibyl,
 
 GE TT1NG BA CK. 1 95 
 
 flinging herself recklessly into the midst of the 
 story before Molly can speak. " We dressed our- 
 selves in our best dresses when Maria was not 
 looking, and we didn't trust Grannie, and we went 
 to call upon the Beast no, the Walentine I mean, 
 he turned into a Walentine, only we thought he 
 was the Beast when we went to wisit him. And 
 we got into a room without any door, and Molly 
 tumbled through the picture and knocked her head. 
 That's all, Grannie." 
 
 " Oh, my dears," says Grannie, much distressed, 
 " I cannot make out what you have been about. 
 Nothing wrong, I hope? Why, they have," says 
 Grannie, putting on her spectacles to look at the 
 children closely, " yes, Edward, they really have 
 on their best frocks and bonnets ! Where have 
 you been, my dears ?" 
 
 " Molly, you are the eldest, explain to us quietly 
 what you have been about," says Uncle Edward. 
 
 " I can 'splain things as well as Molly," murmurs 
 Sibyl indignantly.
 
 196 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 "We wanted Grannie to call upon our next 
 door neighbour," says Molly's ashamed voice, 
 speaking fast and low, "and Grannie wouldn't 
 call, and she said we must trust her. And we 
 didn't trust dear Grannie, and we were very 
 naughty one day, and we left Grannie's card at 
 the Red House, and wrote our names upon 
 it too." 
 
 " Left my card at the Red House !" murmurs 
 Grannie ; " why I never heard of such a thing !" 
 
 " Nor I," says Uncle Edward gravely. " Go on, 
 Molly." 
 
 "And to-day we went to call, and we couldn't 
 reach the bell, and we went round to the back 
 door. Then we went through a great many rooms 
 with no furniture, and then we got into a picture 
 room, and we couldn't get out, and then I fell 
 through one of the pictures into another room, 
 and a gentleman came, and he was very kind. We 
 told him we had been very naughty, and that you 
 didn't know we had come, dear Grannie."
 
 GETTING BACK. 197 
 
 Before the last words are finished tears are 
 raining down Molly's cheeks and splashing upon 
 her pretty white dress. Sibyl clings to her, half- 
 frightened herself, but more frightened at seeing 
 brave Molly in tears. 
 
 " Now do not cry, my dear," said Grannie^ " or 
 you will make yourself ill. It was naughty of 
 you both to disobey me, and to call upon people 
 when I told you there were very good reasons 
 why I did not wish to call. But if you are 
 sorry for what you have done, and will promise 
 to try to be better children for the future, I will 
 forgive you. Say you are sorry, and come and 
 kiss me." 
 
 They run joyfully to Grannie, and kiss her upon 
 each of her cheeks, Molly still sobbing bitterly as 
 she thinks how kind Grannie is and what bad 
 children they are ever to have dreamt of disobey- 
 ing her. 
 
 " Now sit down, and let us talk a bit," says 
 Grannie. " I cannot understand, my dears, what
 
 198 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 made you so anxious to call upon the people at 
 the Red House ?" 
 
 " I can tell you, Grannie," says Uncle Edward. 
 " It was curiosity was at the bottom of the whole 
 affair. I have told you often that there can be no 
 two people in the whole wide world, so curious as 
 Molly and Sibyl." 
 
 " It was 'cause we wanted to be neighbourly," 
 says Sibyl, shaking her head gravely. " Grannie 
 has always said we were to love our neighbours, 
 Uncle Edward." 
 
 " Yes, my dear," says Grannie, " and I hope you 
 always will love your neighbours, but I do not 
 call it loving your neighbours to pry into things 
 they may not want you to know." 
 
 "What is it to pry?" asks Sibyl. 
 
 " It means peeping" says Uncle Edward. " Such 
 as making a hole in the hedge to see what your 
 neighbours are about." 
 
 Molly and Sibyl look into each other's eyes, and 
 then hang down their heads.
 
 GETTING BACK. 199 
 
 " There once lived a very good man," says Uncle 
 Edward, "and this good man had a very great 
 friend at least one who called himself a very great 
 friend. And this friend wanted to find out if this 
 good man was just as good when he was quite 
 alone, as he was when many people were watching 
 him. His bedroom was next door to that of this 
 good man, and this very great friend bored a hole 
 in the wall, that he might peep through it, and see 
 what the good man did when he was alone. He 
 peeped, and peeped, and he saw that he was the 
 same when he was alone as when he was with a 
 crowd of people. Then he was satisfied, and left 
 off prying. But I always have thought that a 
 man who could do a thing of that sort was not a 
 true friend not neighbourly, as Sibyl put it 
 because he did ' not do unto his friend as he would 
 have wished his friend to do unto him.' That is the 
 golden rule, and a very safe rule it is. For I am quite 
 sure this so-called friend was the last person who 
 would have liked to have been watched himself."
 
 200 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Molly and me wouldn't mind anybody making 
 a hole and watching us" says Sibyl. 
 
 " Perhaps not," says Uncle Edward. " But when 
 you grow older you will learn that sometimes the 
 truest way to show our love to our neighbour is 
 by leaving him alone. Grannie was anxious you 
 should trust her. She has lived long in the world, 
 and she knows its ways, and she quite understands 
 that sometimes people come to a strange part of 
 the country to be by themselves for a time, and 
 she thought this might be the case with the people 
 who have taken the Red House. But this after- 
 noon a letter came from a lady Grannie knew years 
 ago, saying that the people who have taken the 
 Red House are great friends of hers, and asking 
 Grannie to call. See, my children, how you would 
 have been rewarded if you had trusted Grannie 
 and been patient." 
 
 The sisters hang their heads, and say nothing. 
 
 " They are a large family," says Uncle Ed- 
 ward, "but at present the eldest son is attend-
 
 GETTING BACK. 201 
 
 ing to the furnishing, and they are not ready for 
 visitors." 
 
 " Ah, the Walentine," murmurs Sibyl sleepily. 
 " He said he was going to clean up the rooms, they 
 were wery dusty, and I said you would lend him 
 Ellen, Grannie." 
 
 " My dear, what have you been promising ? I 
 could not spare Ellen on any account," says Grannie 
 distressed. 
 
 " No, no, dear Grannie," says Molly soothingly. 
 " He said he didn't want Ellen. He has some ser- 
 vants coming." 
 
 A knock at the door. 
 
 " The young ladies' tea is quite ready," says 
 Maria. 
 
 " Run up at once, my dears," says Grannie, " I 
 am sure you must want your tea. Is your head 
 bad now, Molly ?" 
 
 " Only a little, thank you, Grannie," says Molly. 
 " Have you forgiven us, Uncle Edward ?" she asks, 
 timidly.
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he says, gathering them both into his 
 arms. " But you must remember that to be curious 
 is not to be neighbourly, and that the best part 
 of loving your neighbour is that it teaches you 
 to do kind things at the right time not at the 
 wrong time and to the right people. And until 
 you grow quite old and able to judge for your- 
 selves, you must trust Grannie and me. Trust 
 without asking for reasons, without saying ' Why 
 mustn't I ?' or ' Why won't you ?' " 
 
 " Yes, Uncle Edward," says Sibyl. 
 
 " We won't forget," whispers Molly, and the two 
 pairs of arms twine round his neck, and the two 
 white bonnets rest upon his shoulders for a minute 
 in satisfied content. 
 
 The sisters are in bed and Sibyl is already 
 nearly asleep, when suddenly she opens one eye 
 and murmurs lazily, 
 
 " Sister, are you awake ?" 
 
 " Yes," replies Molly. " Very wide-awake." 
 
 " I'm asleep," says Sibyl. " Wery nearly. But
 
 GETTING BACK. 203 
 
 Molly dear, I am so sorry I was so c'oss to you in 
 the picture room to-day." 
 
 " Never mind," says Molly. " I have forgotten 
 all about it." 
 
 " If you are wide enough awake, could you get 
 out of bed and kiss me to make it up ?" murmurs 
 Sibyl. 
 
 Molly is upon her feet in a second, and running 
 to her sister's bed she presses a kiss upon her soft 
 cheek. Sibyl is so sleepy that she can only throw 
 one arm lazily around Molly's neck ; then it falls 
 upon the counterpane, and she is fast asleep. 
 
 Not so Molly. Even after she goes back to bed, 
 she cannot sleep. She lies tossing restlessly from 
 side to side, seeming always to hear Arthur's words 
 " Molly, Molly, come back, you are going such a 
 long way off from GOD." 
 
 She went a long way off from GOD. Has she 
 got near to Him again ? 
 
 After some time she jumps up, opens the door 
 softly, then runs down stairs into the dining-room
 
 204 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 where Grannie is eating her supper while Uncle 
 Edward has his dinner. 
 
 " Oh, my dear," says Grannie, " what brings 
 you down here in your night-dress, and with your 
 bare feet ? what a cold you will catch :" while 
 Uncle Edward seizes a knitted coverlet from the 
 sofa and wraps it around her. 
 
 " Grannie," says Molly, nestling timidly to her, 
 " Arthur said to-day that when we do naughty 
 things it takes us a great way off from GOD. 
 And I want to know how to get near to Him 
 again ?" 
 
 " Did Arthur go with you to the Red House ? 
 You never told me that, my love," says Grannie. 
 
 " No, he wouldn't go. We tried hard to make 
 him, and I was very cross with him because he 
 wouldn't go," says Molly, with tears in her eyes 
 and quivering lips. " He was a good little boy, 
 and he said that you and his papa would not like 
 it, and that it was wrong, and that doing naughty 
 things took us such a long way off from GOD.
 
 GETTING BACK. 205 
 
 And we were in the picture room and couldn't get 
 out, and I thought we had gone such a long way 
 off from GOD that He had forgotten us alto- 
 gether." 
 
 " That would be sad indeed. The saddest thing 
 that could happen, my love," says Grannie, ten- 
 derly. " But He had not forgotten you, for He 
 showed you the way out of the room, did not 
 He?" 
 
 " Yes, Grannie," replies Molly. " And now I 
 want to get near to Him again." 
 
 " And on Sunday," says Grannie, " you read 
 about a child who went a long way off from his 
 father. What did that child say when he was near 
 enough to speak to his father again ?" 
 
 " I know, Grannie," says Molly. " It was the 
 Prodigal Son ; and he said, ' Father, I have 
 sinned.' " 
 
 " And what did you say to me this evening after 
 you had told me what you had done ?" asks 
 Grannie.
 
 206 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Dear Grannie, we are so very sorry," murmurs 
 Molly, softly. 
 
 " Go to your room, my dear," says Grannie, 
 " and kneel down and tell GOD how naughty you 
 have been just as you told me, and say to Him 
 just what you said to me, and ask Him to help 
 you to be a better child for the future. Then you 
 will have got near to Him again, never, I hope, 
 to go far away from Him any more. And in a few 
 minutes," continues Grannie, " I will come and 
 tuck you up in bed and give you a good-night 
 kiss." 
 
 " Thank you, dear Grannie," says Molly, brightly, 
 and with an embrace, as she passes him, to Uncle 
 Edward, Molly runs quickly away.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS. 
 
 F T is two days after Molly and Sibyl paid that 
 never-to-be-forgotten visit. Grannie has set- 
 tled herself for a comfortable afternoon. She is 
 leaning back in her arm-chair cutting up flannel 
 into the smallest of pieces, to stuff cushions for 
 poor people. It makes such soft cushions, and 
 Grannie is glad to rest her eyes from knitting and 
 other work. Uncle Edward is in a chair by her 
 side, he has a paper-knife in his hand with which 
 he is preparing to cut the leaves of a new book he 
 is just about to read to Grannie.
 
 208 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 The door gently opens, and a small figure with 
 a grave face sidles in sideways. This is Molly. 
 Close behind her is another small figure with an 
 equally grave face. This is Sibyl. Hand-in-hand 
 they solemnly cross the room, and stand before 
 Grannie. 
 
 " Is anything the matter ?" asks Uncle Edward, 
 speaking in an I-have-made-up-my-mind-for-the- 
 worst tone of voice. 
 
 " Nothing is the matter," says Sibyl, lifting one 
 shoulder much higher than the other ; " but we are 
 'fraid, at least Molly is 'fraid, / isn't." 
 
 " Afraid of what ?" says Uncle Edward. 
 
 "We want to go into the village," says Molly, 
 " and we are afraid " 
 
 " You was, I wasn't," says Sibyl boldly. 
 
 " What grammar !" says Uncle Edward with a 
 shudder. " It is a good thing you are going to 
 have some regular lessons. Now, Molly." 
 
 " We thought," says Molly, " that perhaps Gran- 
 nie would think it curious, or naughty to want to
 
 JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS. 209 
 
 know if Mrs. Grey's cold is better, and Billy Bob- 
 bins who broke his arm " 
 
 " And Widow Wilson's little black pig with the 
 curly tail," says Sibyl eagerly. "When we went 
 there last, Widow Wilson said he was off his feed, 
 and wouldn't touch a bite of nothing, and she was 
 'fraid he was wery ill indeed." 
 
 " My dears," says Grannie, " it is never curious 
 or wrong to do kind things, or say kind things to 
 people " 
 
 " At the right time," says Uncle Edward. 
 
 " Yes, at the right time," says Grannie. " And 
 I am sure this is the right time, if Mrs. Grey's 
 cold is bad, to send her a pot of currant 
 jelly, for her colds are always in the throat. 
 And Billy Bobbins is a good little boy in the 
 choir, he shall have the custard pudding we did 
 not eat at luncheon to-day, and a pot of raspberry 
 jam, and some plum cake, he will enjoy those. 
 Ask cook to pack them nicely in a basket for you, 
 and to cut a very large slice of cake." 
 
 P
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " A wery large slice," says Sibyl with glistening 
 eyes. " May he have half the cake, Grannie ?" 
 
 "Well, my dear, a quarter will be enough, I 
 think ; and you can take him some more when 
 cook makes a new cake," says Grannie. 
 
 " As the little black pig with the curly tail has 
 such a delicate appetite at present," says Uncle 
 Edward, " perhaps he would like a custard pudding. 
 What do you say, Sibyl ?" 
 
 " I think he would wery much," says Sibyl. 
 " May we ask cook to make him one, Grannie ?" 
 
 " Oh, Sibyl," says Molly, " don't you know that 
 when Uncle Edward looks so grave, he is only 
 telling make-believes, and not real things ?" 
 
 " The custard pudding would be wasted on the 
 little pig, my dear," says Grannie, settling herself 
 comfortably in her chair. " I dare say you will 
 find him quite well to-day. Now run off, my loves, 
 and be home in good time for tea." 
 
 " Oh, yes, because Prince Charming is coming," 
 says Molly.
 
 JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS. 211 
 
 " One minute," says Uncle Edward, as they fer- 
 vently kiss him, " as you are rather more subdued 
 to-day, and not quite such a couple of scaramouches, 
 I want to tell you something. There is a neighbour 
 of yours, a next door neighbour too, to whom you 
 are not neighbourly." 
 
 "Do you mean the walentine?" says Sibyl, 
 " 'cause Grannie " 
 
 " I do not mean the ' walentine,' but a much 
 nearer neighbour than the 'walentine,' I mean 
 Jacob," says Uncle Edward. 
 
 " Oh, but he is so c'oss. It's his complaint what 
 is so c'oss," says Sibyl. 
 
 " I am afraid you are a great trouble to him, 
 poor old man," says Uncle Edward. " It is not 
 loving your neighbour to treat him as you have 
 treated Jacob. You have not been kind to him, 
 my little girls, you have not done to him as you 
 would have him do to you." 
 
 " He hasn't been kind to us," says Sibyl, eagerly. 
 " I am sure if he had wanted the big squirt or the
 
 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 short ladder I would have lent them to him in a 
 minute. He is never neighbourly to us, Uncle 
 Edward." 
 
 "What have we done to him, Uncle?" asks 
 Molly, wistfully. 
 
 " I cannot tell you everything" says Uncle 
 Edward, caressing her soft hair. " But I will 
 name a few things. Scampering over the beds 
 when Jacob has dug them up and raked them 
 over " 
 
 " That was when we were playing hide-and- 
 seek," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Picking some of his choicest flowers, pulling 
 others up by the roots 
 
 " That was when we think they is weeds," says 
 Sibyl. 
 
 " Running off with his tools, playing ball on 
 forbidden ground, and breaking some of the panes 
 of glass in the forcing frames " 
 
 " That was only once, or twice, or three times 
 when we fur-got," says Sibyl.
 
 JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS. 213 
 
 " What shall we do, Uncle Edward ?" asks Molly. 
 
 " Say you are sorry for what you have done, and 
 that you will be better children for the future. 
 Make him happy by promising him not to pick 
 the flowers that he says you may not ; and ask 
 him whether a thing is a weed before you pull it 
 up, and keep away from the glass frames when you 
 are playing ball." 
 
 " It is a wery hard and wery long promise, and 
 perhaps we shall fur-get," says Sibyl. 
 
 " You must try and remember," says Uncle 
 Edward. Then they kiss him and trot away. 
 
 They pay their visit to Jacob upon their road 
 home. The old man is sitting in his deep, wicker 
 chair, enjoying a pipe before he has his tea. The 
 sisters have seldom been in his cottage before, and 
 they glance around them curiously. It is small, 
 but clean and tidy, and a bright fire burns in the 
 tiny grate. 
 
 " We are come to say we are wery sorry," begins 
 Sibyl, briskly.
 
 214 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 The old man lifts himself out of his chair. 
 
 " And what have you been up to now" he says, 
 in an agitated voice. " Is it the " 
 
 " No, no, Jacob, sit down again," says Molly. 
 "We have not done anything at all to-day, but 
 Uncle Edward sent us to tell you we have not 
 been neighbourly and kind to you, and we are 
 going to be better children, and not pick the 
 flowers when you say we mustn't, and not pull 
 up the weeds without asking you if they are 
 flowers " 
 
 " And not run over the beds when you have 
 made them tidy," puts in Sibyl. 
 
 "And not play at ball among the frames," 
 finishes Molly. 
 
 Jacob's face brightens then clouds over. 
 
 " You'll be forgetting all about it after a day or 
 two, I'll be bound," he says. 
 
 " No, no, Jacob, we will try hard to remember," 
 says Molly, earnestly. 
 
 " Then I'll be the man to trust you, Miss Molly,"
 
 JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS. 215 
 
 says Jacob, " and if you keep your promise, I'll 
 end my days in peace, and have never so much as 
 a care upon me." 
 
 " 'Cept your complaint," says Sibyl. 
 
 " Oh, I am so used to him that I don't lay no 
 account by him," says Jacob. " 'Twas those teeny 
 hands of yours what were the plague of my life, 
 my little ladies. Many a night I've lain awake 
 worriting over the mischief they teeny hands of 
 yours have done." 
 
 " Were we as bad as that ?" asks Molly wist- 
 fully. 
 
 " You see," says old Jacob, " I've neither wife 
 nor children, and this garden it's just wife and child 
 to me. I watch the flowers coming open just as 
 people watch their children growing up, and then 
 just as the flowers is opening to purfection two 
 pairs of little hands pull off the beautiful blossoms, 
 and there ! they are gone in the twinkling of an 
 eyelid. If you had only cut 'em off with a knife, 
 I think I could have borne it better, but to
 
 216 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 pull 'em off as if they was nasty weeds ! Why 
 it went to my heart it did, and it went very 
 nigh to breaking of it sometimes it did," and the 
 old man draws the sleeve of his coat across his 
 eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Jacob, don't cry," says Sibyl hastily. 
 " Where's my hankey gone ? Oh, I 'member 
 now, I needled it on to one of my doll's dresses 
 for a train. Have you got your hankey, sister ?" 
 
 " I don't want a pocket-hankey, thank you, Miss 
 Sibyl," says Jacob, taking up his pipe again. 
 " Now you've given me your promise I'll be a 
 happier man. Why my flowers will be the pride 
 of the county if only you'll let 'em 'bide. I took 
 the first prize for chancy-asters, and them two chry- 
 santhemums what you broke off at the roots when 
 you made that hole in the hedge were finer than 
 any what were at the show." 
 
 " Poor Jacob," says Molly penitently. " We did 
 not know you minded so much. We are very 
 sorry, and we will be careful, we really will."
 
 JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS. 217 
 
 " I'll trust you, Miss Molly," says Jacob in a 
 satisfied voice. 
 
 " I tell you what, Jacob," says Sibyl eagerly, 
 " we will be really and truly neighbourly. You 
 are all by yourself, and you have no little chil- 
 dren. We will come and live with you, and be 
 your two little girls. Won't that be nice for you, 
 Jacob?" 
 
 But the old man grows pale. 
 
 " You are not in earnest, Miss Sibyl." 
 
 " Really and truly," answers Sibyl ? 
 
 " I wouldn't have you for a mint of money," says 
 Jacob, shaking his grey head vigorously. " Why I 
 should be in my grave in a week. Bless you, Miss 
 Sibyl, what should I do with you ?" 
 
 " Wouldn't you like to have us ?" asks Sibyl, in 
 such a disappointed voice. 
 
 " No, no, my little ladies," says the old man. 
 " You stay where GOD has put you. Why I 
 shouldn't know a minute's rest or peace if you 
 were my little children. I wouldn't have the
 
 2i8 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 care of you for a week if I was paid for it in as 
 much gold as I could carry on my shoulders in a 
 sack." 
 
 This is plain speaking. Sibyl looks very crest- 
 fallen. Molly is thinking sad thoughts, for her 
 eyes are grave. 
 
 They both cough. 
 
 " There ! I ought to have put out my pipe," 
 says the old man apologising. " But I ain't used 
 to ladies visiting me in my house, that's the truth 
 of it." 
 
 " We don't mind the baccy much. But it 
 doesn't smell nice like Uncle Edward's seg-gars," 
 says Sibyl. 
 
 " I'll put it away next time you come to see me," 
 says Jacob. 
 
 " May we come again ?" asks Molly meekly. 
 
 " Oh, yes, if you please, little ladies," says old 
 Jacob ; " and if your grandma will let you 
 perhaps you will have a cup of tea with me. 
 I've had some rare fine honey sent me from my
 
 JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS. 219 
 
 sister in Scotland, where the bees is fed from the 
 heather" 
 
 " Grannie is sure to let us," says Sibyl briskly, 
 " oh may we come to-morrow, Jacob, and bring 
 Prince Charming with us ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," says Jacob, " and the little gentleman 
 is right welcome, for a nicer behaved little gentle- 
 man couldn't be found." 
 
 " Would you like him for your little boy, Jacob ?" 
 asks Sibyl wistfully. 
 
 Jacob does not answer. 
 
 " We must go," says Molly, " or Prince Charming 
 will be waiting." 
 
 " Oh, Jacob," says Sibyl, running back and 
 putting her head in at the door, "you must 
 be neighbourly as well as us, and lend us the 
 big squirt and short ladder when we want 
 them." 
 
 "You won't take them without asking, Miss 
 Sibyl ?" 
 
 " N . . . o," answers Sibyl.
 
 220 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 " Then we will see what you want them for afore 
 I lend them to you," says old Jacob. 
 
 The sisters are unusually silent that evening, 
 especially Molly. After tea Prince Charming is 
 sitting upon the large old-fashioned sofa, a sister 
 upon each side of him. 
 
 " Prince Charming," says Sibyl suddenly, patting 
 his hand as it lies in hers, " you love us wery much, 
 don't you ?" 
 
 " Very, very much," he answers earnestly. 
 
 " Next best to your papa ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," says Prince Charming. 
 
 " And we have done you a great deal of good ?" 
 asks Sibyl again. 
 
 " A great deal of good, everybody says so," re- 
 plies Prince Charming. 
 
 "And we are wery nice medicine. Wery nice 
 indeed, are we not, dear Arthur ?" 
 
 "Very, very nice," Prince Charming tries to 
 answer. But Sibyl has wound her arms tightly 
 round his neck, and Molly is arranging his back
 
 JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS. 
 
 curls with her little motherly hand, so he can only 
 make a sound which is more like a grunt than 
 anything else. 
 
 But Sibyl who draws his face close down to 
 hers, and Molly who pulls back his yellow curls 
 to press a fervent kiss upon his forehead, are both 
 equally satisfied. 
 
 i 
 
 Ah ! the eerieness is creeping away just as 
 slowly as it came on, and I am waking up to my 
 own world, and leaving the world into which the 
 fairies have taken me far, far away. 
 
 Not another word will the fairies tell me to-day. 
 The sweet, silver chiming of their voices has 
 ceased, and I just feel their gauzy wings sweep 
 across my cheek as they flutter past me. Perhaps 
 if I do not move, and open my eyes a little bit, I 
 shall catch a glimpse of them perhaps see the 
 shining of their diamond crowns, a fragment of 
 their silver trains, a brown curl, or a golden curl 
 whisking out of sight.
 
 222 OUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 Ah ! no. The fairies have vanished with the 
 story, and there is nothing of them to be seen. I 
 do not know what you think, but it seems to me 
 they have left it in a very unfinished state. I always 
 imagined that the fairies' stories ended so charm- 
 ingly, that everybody lived happily ever after. 
 
 But may be, as this story is about real people, 
 the fairies prefer to leave it without an end. For 
 they know that none of our stories the stories of 
 real men, women, and children ever finish in this 
 world. Now GOD goes into His garden and 
 picks first a rose, then a lily, but our stories will 
 not end until He has folded all His dear ones in 
 His Arms until He has sent north and south, 
 east and west, to gather His flowers into one 
 splendid nosegay, which will shine and glisten with 
 a thousand starry colours in His beautiful home. 
 And then, but not until then, will it be true of 
 us that " we lived happily ever after." 
 
 And if, it is a tiny word, but a very hopeful
 
 JACOB'S LITTLE GIRLS. 223 
 
 one sometimes, if the fairies at some future time 
 should whisper to me any more of the story, I 
 will not forget, you may be sure, to tell it to you 
 again. For I know you will like to hear, just as 
 I shall, everything that the fairies can find out to 
 tell us about 
 
 turf ^ ***%< 
 
 J. MASTERS AND CO., PRINTERS, ALBION BUILDINGS, BARTHOLOMEW CLOSE.
 
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