Hildegarde's Neighbors

by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

  CHAPTER VIII.

  "HANDS ACROSS THE SEA."

  "Oh, how jolly you all look!" cried Hildegarde, peeping throughthe hedge. "Where are you going?"

  The Merryweathers were going to ride; so much was evident. Fivebicycles stood at the door, glittering in the sunlight; fiveriders were in the act of mounting, plainly bound on a pleasure-trip.

  "Only for the mail, and a little spin after it," cried Mr.Merryweather. "Wish you could come too, Miss Grahame. You willcertainly have to get a wheel and join us. Nothing like it, Iassure you."

  Bell and Gertrude, in trim short skirts and gaiters, sat alreadyperched, ready for the start; and Phil and Gerald were putting alast touch to their shining metal-work.

  Mrs. Merryweather came out on the steps, with Kitty by her side.

  "Here are my letters, dear people," she said. "And don't forgetthe boots, please; they are very important."

  "May one inquire what boots?" asked Mr. Merryweather.

  "I really have no idea!" replied his wife. "Somebody said atbreakfast that you must be sure to remember the boots, and dwelton their importance; therefore I mention them."

  "Ou avez-vous procure ce chapeau?" inquired Gerald, politely.

  "My dear Gerald, you know that I will not endure slang that isless than fifty years old."

  "It isn't slang, Mother! At least it may be; but I want to know,because, really, you know, ma'am, when it comes to baskets--"

  Mrs. Merryweather put up her hand, and removed her head-gear."Dear me!" she said, "it is a basket, sure enough. That is verycurious! Why--why then, I must have picked the raspberries into myhat."

  A shout of laughter, in which Mrs. Merryweather joined placidly,greeted this announcement. "I put plenty of green leaves in it,"she said; "it will be all right. But I sent it to the minister'swife, and I fear she will be surprised. My dear Gertrude, have youlearned your Latin lesson, that I see you starting off so freely?"

  "Yes, mother," said Gertrude, sadly. "I learned it, and it was adetestable lesson. I am SO tired of hearing that Titus Labienuswas stationed on a hill!"

  "I know!" chimed in Phil. "I remember when I was in Caesar, aboutforty years ago, and Titus Labby was on the hill then. It's mybelief he got stuck there, and was afraid to come down."

  "That is curious!" said Mrs. Merryweather, meditatively. "Alwayson a hill; why, so he is! That is rather interesting, don't youthink so?"

  "With all respect, I do not!" said Mr. Merryweather. "I desire todepart. If Caesar had had a wheel, he would not have been sotedious."

  "Oh, jolly!" cried Gerald. "Caesar commanded to let scoot thelegions through the morasses and bogges the bogs. Then cameVercingetorix on a '91 Columbia, weighing seventy-three pounds,and said, 'How in time am I to get up this hill?' Then spake tohim Caesar, and said these words,--Get out, you Ferguson!"

  For Ferguson, swiftly departing, had launched a kick at hisbrother in passing, nearly sending him from his seat. Geraldwhirled off in pursuit; the others followed more soberly, and thewhole party disappeared round the curve of the road.

  Hildegarde looked after them rather dolefully. A year ago a girlon a bicycle was a shocking thing to our heroine; she shook herlittle head severely, and said that nothing would induce her tomount one. Somehow her views had changed since she had seen theMerryweathers on theirs. She began to think that it would beuncommonly pleasant to go skimming along like a swallow, swoopingdown the hills and whirling along the levels. "The nearestapproach to flying that this generation will see," Mr.Merryweather called it, and Hilda inclined to think he was right.However--

  "Remember that you are both coming over this morning," called Mrs.Merryweather, cheerfully. "I mean this evening, of course, to tea.We will have some music. Kitty, my dear, we must go to ourFrench."

  "Shall we bring our sewing out on the verandah, mammy?" askedHilda, rousing herself from a little reverie. "Ah, you have theletters, sly one, and never told me!"

  "I doubted if there was anything that would interest you, mylove," said Mrs. Grahame. "Yes; let us have our work, by allmeans. There are one or two business letters that I should likeyou to look over."

  Hilda smiled and departed, revolving the thought that she was aselfish and empty-headed wretch. She did not want to read businessletters; she wanted to be on a wheel, flying over the smooth road,with the wind lifting her hair and breathing cool against hercheek. And here was her mother sitting alone, and the newtablecloths to hem, and--and altogether--"If you COULD tell me whythey thought it worth while to keep you," she said to herself, "Ishould be glad to know it. Perhaps you can tell me what P-I-Gspells."

  Returning with the wide sewing basket, she found her motherlooking over a pile of letters. "It is high time," said Mrs.Grahame, "that you began to take some interest in businessmatters." Hildegarde wondered what was coming; her mother lookedvery grave; she held in her hand a square grey envelope. "I shallbe greatly obliged, therefore, my dear," her mother continued,with the same portentous gravity, "if--you would--read that"; andshe gave the letter to Hildegarde.

  "Oh, mamma! you wicked, wicked deceiver! You frightened me almostto death; and it is from Jack, dear old Jack. Oh, how delightful!You pleasant person, Mrs. Grahame; I forgive you, though my heartstill throbs with terror. Are you all comfortable, my own? Yourlittle feet all tucked up beneath your petticoat, so that theycannot steal in and out? Don't you want a glass of milk, or acracker, or a saddle of mutton, or anything else? Then be silent!and oh, how happy we shall be!" Hildegarde settled herself in herchair, sighed with pleasure, and broke the seal of the fat letter.

  "DEAR HILDA: It seems an age since I last wrote, but there is somuch going on I have hardly time to breathe. There have been someawfully jolly concerts this spring, and I have been going to them,and practising four hours a day, and having lessons and all that.Herr J. played at the last two concerts, and I know what heaven islike--my heaven, at least--since I heard him. He played--"

  Here followed an accurate list of the great violinist'sperformances, covering three sheets of note-paper.

  "It isn't the technique and all that, though of course he is thefirst in the world for that and everything else; it's the sense,the heart that he puts into it. In that adagio--well, I played itto you once, like the cheeky little duffer I was, and felt pleasedas Punch with myself, and no end cocked up because you liked it.Hilda, I ought to have been taken out and shot for daring to touchit! When the maestro (they call him maestro here, so you mustn'tthink me Frenchified), when he played it, the world seemed just tomelt away, and nothing left but a voice, that sang, and sang, andtold you more than you ever dreamed of in all your life before. Iwish I could describe things, but you know I can't, so you won'texpect it. But one thing I will tell you, if you'll promise not totell any living soul--"

  "Stop, my dear!" said Mrs. Grahame, quickly. "We must not touchupon the boy's confidences. Head that part to yourself."

  "Thank you, ma'am!" said Hilda. "This mark of trust is mostgratifying, I assure you. 'Not tell any living soul except yourmother, dear.' Now how do you feel, madam?"

  "Dear Jack!" said Mrs. Grahame, softly. "Dear lad! of course Ishall like to hear it. Go on, Hilda, and I promise not tointerrupt again."

  "The day after the last concert--it was only day before yesterday,but it seems an age--I went to take my lesson, and my master wasnot there. He is often late, so I just took out some music andbegan to play over the things I had studied. There was a sonata ofRubinstein's, very splendid, that has quite possessed me lately. Iplayed that, and I suppose I forgot where I was and all about it,for I went on and on, never hearing a sound except just the music.You must hear it when I come back, Hilda. It begins in the minor,and then there is the most superb sweep up into the major; yourheart seems to sweep up with it, and you find yourself in anotherworld, where everything is divine harmony. I'm talking nonsense, Iknow, but that piece just sends me off my head altogether. Well,at last I finished it and came down from the clouds, and when Iturned around, Hilda, there was the maestro hims
elf, standing andlistening. Well! you can't go through the floor and all that sortof thing, as they do in the fairy-books, but I did wish I was amouse, or a flea, or anything smaller that there is. He stoodstill a minute. Perhaps he was afraid I would behave like someasses the other day--they weren't Americans, I am happy to say--who met him, and went down on their knees in the hotel entry, andtook bits of mud from his shoes for a keepsake; they truly did,the horrid pigs! And he just said 'Dummkopfer!' and went off andleft them kneeling there. Wasn't that jolly? Well, I say, he mighthave thought I would act like that, and yet I don't believe hedid, for he had the kindest, friendliest look on his face. He cameforward and held out his hand, and said, 'So you play the greatsonata, my son; and love it, too, I perceive.'

  "I don't know exactly what I said,--some rubbish about how much Icared for it; but I stammered mostly, and got all kinds ofcolours. I guess you can tell pretty much how I behaved, though Ireally am getting to be not quite so much of a muff. Anyhow, heseemed to understand, and nodded, and said, 'Give me now theviolin, for there are things you understand not yet in the piece.'

  "Oh, Hilda! he took my violin in his own hands, and played for me.Think of it! the greatest master in the world, all alone with methere, and playing like--like--well, I don't know how to say whatI mean, so you'll have to imagine it for yourself. He went allthrough it, stopping once in a while to explain to me, and todescribe this or that shade of expression or turn of the wrist. Itwas the most splendid lesson any one ever had, I believe. But thatis not the best, and I hardly like to tell even you the rest. Youmay think I am just bluffing, and anyhow,--but it is the truth,so--well, after about half an hour my master came in, and ofcourse he was delighted, and highly honoured, and bowing andscraping and all. But the maestro came and put his hand on myshoulder, and said, 'Friend, will you give me up this pupil,hein?'

  "I don't mind if you don't believe it; I didn't myself, butthought I was asleep and dreaming it all. 'I will give you inexchange two others,' he said. 'The fat English lady has shortnessof breath, and cannot keep my hours of work, and the young Russianmakes eyes at me, which is not to be endured. Will you take them,both very rich, and give me in exchange this child?'

  "Of course there is only one answer, you know; it is like when aking asks for anything. And besides, Herr Geiger is so good andkind, he was really perfectly delighted at my having the greatchance,--the chance of a lifetime. So I am going this afternoon totake my first regular lesson from the great master of the world,and I don't deserve it, Hilda, and I wonder why everything is doneso for me, and such happiness given to a fellow like me, whenthere are hundreds of other fellows who deserve it a great dealmore. I know what you and your mother would say, and I do feel it,and I am thankful, I truly think, with all my heart, and I hope Ishall be a better fellow in every way, and try to make somereturn. I couldn't go without telling you. Of course I wrote aline to the governor first. He will be so happy! And of course ifit hadn't been for him, I never should have had any music, or anyviolin, or anything; and without you and your mother, Hilda, Inever should have come here, that is certain. So I don't see veryclear, sometimes, when I think about you and him.

  "Time for the lesson now. Good-bye! I am the happiest fellow inthe world! Best love to your mother, and uncle--no! shall write tohim by this mail.

  "Always your affectionate

  "JACK.

  "P.S. Lesson glorious! he is really the greatest man in the world,I don't care who the next is. I didn't thank you for your lastletter. Of course I felt for a minute as if my gas-balloon hadbust, when you told me that the lovely Rose was going to marry Dr.Flower; but I guess it is all right. You see, she must be verysweet and all that; but after all, I never saw her, and you sayshe has no ear for music, and I am afraid that would have been apretty bad thing, don't you think so yourself? So I guess it isall right, and I am as jolly as a coot. Awfully jolly about thenew neighbours turning out such bricks. Do any of them play orsing? JACK.

  "P.P.S. I fought my first duel yesterday, with a chap who slangedthe U. S. I got a cut on my left arm, but then, I cut a littleslice off his ear, so I was all right. J."

  "Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Grahame; "a duel! The naughty, naughtyboy! Those student duels are not apt to be serious affairsnowadays, I believe, but still it seems a dreadful thing. Whatwill the Colonel say when he hears it?"

  "He will very likely be pleased as Punch, as Jack says," rejoinedHildegarde. "To have his milksop fight a duel would probably seemto him a very encouraging thing. And of course, mammina, it isn'tlike a real, dreadful duel, is it? I mean, it is more a kind ofhorrid bear-play? But oh, to think of our Jack cutting off a pieceof a man's ear! It almost spoils the beautiful other part of it.No, nothing can spoil that. Dear, delightful, stupid, glorious oldJack! I always knew he had genius. When shall we see the Colonel?"

  "Possibly to-night, at the Merryweathers'," said her mother."These pleasant little tea-parties seem to take in all our littlecircle. See! there come the riders back again, Gerald and Philracing, as usual. Hear them shout! Certainly, never a family wasbetter named."

  Hildegarde came up behind her mother, and put her arms lightlyround her neck.

  "I prefer my pea!" she said. And the two women laughed and kissedeach other and went on with their work.