NEW NEIGHBOURS
NOT five minutes' walk from Lowercoombe Farm, situated a little back
from the high road, was a large-sized, detached cottage called Coombe
Villa, standing in its own grounds. It had been unoccupied for some
months, but one day towards the end of March, as Nellie and Bessie
Maple went by on their way to school, they noticed a large furniture
van drawn up in front of the garden gate, and several men engaged in
carrying different articles of household furniture into the cottage.
They paused a moment to watch, and then ran on to make up for lost
time, wondering who the new inhabitants of Coombe Villa were, and
wishing they knew all about them.
On their return journey they found the van had gone, and an old man was
sweeping up the straw and litter that strewed the garden path, whilst a
maidservant stood at one of the open windows looking out.
The children went home in some excitement to inform their mother that
Coombe Villa was occupied again; and during the time the family was
seated at dinner the conversation was mostly about the newcomers.
"The cottage has been taken by a Mr. Manners," the farmer said. "I was
told so in the village this morning—in fact, Mr. Manners was pointed
out to me, and a fine-looking gentleman, he seemed, with a pleasant
face. They tell me he is a widower with an only child, a little girl of
about the same age as our Bessie, I should think."
"Oh, have you seen her?" the children enquired with great interest.
"Yes; she was with her father this morning. They had evidently been
shopping in the village, for they were laden with parcels. They look
nice people, but of course one cannot always judge by appearances."
Nellie and Bessie were very curious about their new neighbours, and
felt the advent of strangers to the parish to be an exciting event,
for, like most country children, they rarely saw a face they did not
know, unless on the few occasions when they went with their parents to
the nearest market town. So they peeped into the garden of Coombe Villa
every time they passed, in the hope of seeing the little girl, but
nearly a week elapsed before they caught sight of her. On that occasion
she was at play with a black and white fox-terrier, and laughing
merrily as the dog frisked around her delighted with the game.
She stood inside the gate looking through the bars as Nellie and Bessie
came within view, and when she met their eager glances she smiled a
little shyly, and said: "Good morning!"
"Good morning!" they echoed, and passed on slowly.
Once they looked back, and perceived the little girl gazing after them
with her face full of lively interest. Next morning she was there
again—this time evidently watching for them. She greeted them in the
same manner as before, adding quickly:
"Oh, please, do stop a minute!"
They paused, and there was a moment's silence; then the little stranger
asked:
"Are you going to school?"
"Yes," Nellie answered.
"I thought so. I don't go to school, because father teaches me. You
pass here every day, don't you? Have you far to go?"
"About a mile—that is not far when the weather is fine, but it seems a
long way in the winter if it is rainy or snowy. We live at Lowercoombe
Farm."
"That is the house down in the valley, isn't it? Is your father a
farmer?"
"Yes."
"How nice! I should like to be a farmer if I were a man, and keep lots
of horses, and dogs, and cows!"
"And sheep, and pigs, and poultry," added Nellie, laughing, "but it's
hard work looking after them all!"
"I suppose it is. My name is Una Manners—what is yours?"
"I am called Nellie—Nellie Maple," the elder little girl explained,
"and she," pointing to her sister, "is Bessie!"
"I think Nellie and Bessie are pretty names! Oh, are you going already?
Can't you stay and talk to me a little longer?"
"We should like to, but we should be late for school if we did, and
that would never do," Nellie replied, "but perhaps we shall see you
another day!"
"Very likely. I will be on the look-out for you. This is my dog
'Crack.' Are you fond of dogs?"
"Oh, yes," both children answered; and Bessie added: "We have a dear
old sheep-dog called 'Rags.'"
"I should like to see him! Oh, must you really go now? Good-bye!"
The little girls ran off and were soon out of sight. Una, after
watching them till they disappeared, opened the gate, and strolled into
the road. As she went along she gathered a bunch of primroses and a few
white violets to take home to her father.
Presently she heard a sheep-dog barking, and coming to a gateway saw
a man crossing the field towards her, bearing in his arms a little
white lamb that bleated pitifully, whilst a rough old English sheep-dog
rushed towards her growling and snarling.
Una drew back hastily with a cry of alarm, and Crack, who was close at
her heels, gave a sharp, indignant bark. The man called to his dog, and
the well-trained animal returned obediently to his side, looking up
into his master's face for further instructions.
"Don't be frightened, Missy," said the farmer, for it was Mr. Maple
himself. "Rags will not hurt you; but he saw you were a stranger, and
he was wondering what you were doing here!"
Una smiled, reassured, and as Rags came up to her again, fixing his
brown eyes on her face as though to ascertain if she was to be trusted
or not, she extended her little white hand to him. The big dog sniffed
at it for a moment in doubt, then he gave it a friendly lick, while
Crack walked round him inquisitively.
"There now!" exclaimed the farmer laughing. "Rags has quite made up his
mind to like you, and he'll know you when he sees you again. He's very
fond of children; my little maids can do anything with him; and he's
really very good-tempered, although he looks so fierce. Ah, dogs know
those who understand them."
"Are Nellie and Bessie your little girls?" Una enquired. "Then you must
be the farmer at Lowercoombe Farm?"
"Yes," he answered, "but how did you come to know that?"
"I was talking to your little girls just now," she explained. "They
pass our house on their way to school. I live at Coombe Villa with my
father and Nanny—she's my nurse. We have another servant named Polly,
but she has not been with us long. Nanny has lived with us ever since I
was born. What are you going to do with that dear little lamb?"
"Why, I am going to take it home to my wife to see if she can't rear it
up by hand. The poor creature has lost its mother."
"Oh, dear, how sad!" cried Una. "Do you think it will live?"
"I hope so. We shall do our best for it, anyway. You must pay us a
visit, little Missy, one of these days, to see for yourself how the
lamb is doing. Will you?"
"Oh, yes, if father will let me, and I know he will! How kind of you to
ask me!"
"My wife and children will be pleased to see you, I know," the farmer
continued; "you'll be very welcome."
"And Rags?" said Una, smiling as she put her hand on the dog's shaggy
back, "you will be pleased to see me too, won't you, Rags?"
"You are fond of animals, I can see," remarked Mr. Maple.
"Oh, yes!" she answered readily, "so is father! He says he cannot think
how any one can serve animals badly! It's so unchristian, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is, Missy, though I never thought of it in that light
before!"
"Don't you remember what God says: 'Every beast of the forest is Mine,
and the cattle upon a thousand hills. I know all the fowls of the
mountains, and the wild beasts of the field are Mine.' Animals belong
to God just as much as we do, don't they?"
The farmer nodded, looking with interest at the bright, animated face
of the child. She put up her hand, and softly caressed the curly fleece
of the motherless lamb.
"Dear little thing!" she murmured, "I do hope it will live! How will
your wife manage to feed it?"
"She puts the finger of a kid glove on to the spout of a tea-pot, and
lets the lambs who lose their mothers take the milk that way. She's
reared many like that, and it's wonderful how soon the little creatures
get to know her."
With a cheery "Good morning," the farmer turned his footsteps
homewards, followed by Rags; and Una calling to Crack, who was rat
hunting in the hedge, ran back along the road towards Coombe Villa.
She found her father at the garden gate looking for her, and
immediately began to tell him about the farmer and his dog and the
little lamb, to all of which he listened with an amused smile. Then she
spoke of her interview with Nellie and Bessie.
"I may go to the farm one day, may I not, father?" she asked coaxingly.
"We will see about it, my dear; I dare say you may. Perhaps the little
girls may mention the matter to you; and if they do, I have not the
least objection to your going. I hear the Maples are nice people, and
much respected in the district, and I dare say the children will be
good companions for you. The folks at Lowercoombe Farm are our nearest
neighbours, and I should wish to be on good terms with them."
"Oh, yes, father! See what beautiful flowers I have gathered for your
studio! Are not the violets sweet?"
"Very," Mr. Manners answered; "I think they are my favourite flowers,
for they always remind me of your dear mother. It was Spring when she
died, and some white violets that I gave her one day were the last
flowers she noticed, I remember."
He sighed, and the shadow of a deep grief crossed his face as he
mentioned his dead wife. Una gave his hand a little, sympathetic
squeeze, and he looked down at her with a tender, loving smile as he
whispered:
"Little comforter! You always understand!"