"If you please, mum," said the voice of a domesticfrom somewhere round the angle of the door, "number threeis moving in.

Two little old ladies, who were sitting at eitherside of a table, sprang to their feet with ejaculationsof interest, and rushed to the window of thesitting-room.

"Take care, Monica dear," said one, shrouding herselfin the lace curtain; "don't let them see us.

"No, no, Bertha. We must not give them reason to saythat their neighbors are inquisitive. But I think thatwe are safe if we stand like this."

The open window looked out upon a sloping lawn, welltrimmed and pleasant, with fuzzy rosebushes and astar-shaped bed of sweet-william. It was bounded bya low wooden fence, which screened it off from a broad,modern, new metaled road. At the other side of this roadwere three large detached deep-bodied villas with peakyeaves and small wooden balconies, each standing in itsown little square of grass and of flowers. All threewere equally new, but numbers one and two were curtainedand sedate, with a human, sociable look to them; whilenumber three, with yawning door and unkempt garden, hadapparently only just received its furniture and madeitself ready for its occupants. A four-wheeler haddriven up to the gate, and it was at this that the oldladies, peeping out bird-like from behind their curtains,directed an eager and questioning gaze.

The cabman had descended, and the passengers withinwere handing out the articles which they desired him tocarry up to the house. He stood red-faced and blinking,with his crooked arms outstretched, while a male hand,protruding from the window, kept piling up upon him aseries of articles the sight of which filled the curiousold ladies with bewilderment.

"My goodness me!" cried Monica, the smaller, thedrier, and the more wizened of the pair. "What do youcall that, Bertha? It looks to me like four batterpuddings."

"Those are what young men box each other with,"said Bertha, with a conscious air of superior worldlyknowledge.

"And those?"

Two great bottle-shaped pieces of yellow shining woodhad been heaped upon the cabman.

"Oh, I don't know what those are," confessed Bertha. Indian clubs had never before obtruded themselves uponher peaceful and very feminine existence.

These mysterious articles were followed, however, byothers which were more within their, range ofcomprehension--by a pair of dumb-bells, a purplecricket-bag, a set of golf clubs, and a tennis racket. Finally, when the cabman, all top-heavy and bristling,had staggered off up the garden path, there emerged in avery leisurely way from the cab a big, powerfully builtyoung man, with a bull pup under one arm and a pinksporting paper in his hand. The paper he crammed intothe pocket of his light yellow dust-coat, and extendedhis hand as if to assist some one else from the vehicle. To the surprise of the two old ladies, however, the onlything which his open palm received was a violent slap,and a tall lady bounded unassisted out of the cab. Witha regal wave she motioned the young man towards the door,and then with one hand upon her hip she stood in acareless, lounging attitude by the gate, kicking hertoe against the wall and listlessly awaiting the returnof the driver.

As she turned slowly round, and the sunshine struckupon her face, the two watchers were amazed to see thatthis very active and energetic lady was far from being inher first youth, so far that she had certainly come ofage again since she first passed that landmark in life'sjourney. Her finely chiseled, clean-cut face, withsomething red Indian about the firm mouth and stronglymarked cheek bones, showed even at that distance tracesof the friction of the passing years. And yet she wasvery handsome. Her features were as firm in repose asthose of a Greek bust, and her great dark eyes werearched over by two brows so black, so thick, and sodelicately curved, that the eye turned away from theharsher details of the face to marvel at their grace andstrength. Her figure, too, was straight as a dart, alittle portly, perhaps, but curving into magnificentoutlines, which were half accentuated by the strangecostume which she wore. Her hair, black but plentifullyshot with grey, was brushed plainly back from her highforehead, and was gathered under a small round felt hat,like that of a man, with one sprig of feather in the bandas a concession to her sex. A double-breasted jacket ofsome dark frieze-like material fitted closely to herfigure, while her straight blue skirt, untrimmed andungathered, was cut so short that the lower curve of herfinely-turned legs was plainly visible beneath it,terminating in a pair of broad, flat, low-heeled andsquare-toed shoes. Such was the lady who lounged at thegate of number three, under the curious eyes of her twoopposite neighbors.

But if her conduct and appearance had alreadysomewhat jarred upon their limited and precise sense ofthe fitness of things, what were they to think of thenext little act in this tableau vivant? The cabman,red and heavy-jowled, had come back from his labors, andheld out his hand for his fare. The lady passed him acoin, there was a moment of mumbling and gesticulating,and suddenly she had him with both hands by the redcravat which girt his neck, and was shaking him as aterrier would a rat. Right across the pavement shethrust him, and, pushing him up against the wheel, shebanged his head three several times against the side ofhis own vehicle.

"Can I be of any use to you, aunt?" asked the largeyouth, framing himself in the open doorway.

"Not the slightest," panted the enraged lady. "There, you low blackguard, that will teach you to beimpertinent to a lady."

The cabman looked helplessly about him with abewildered, questioning gaze, as one to whom alone ofall men this unheard-of and extraordinary thing hadhappened. Then, rubbing his head, he mounted slowly onto the box and drove away with an uptossed hand appealingto the universe. The lady smoothed down her dress,pushed back her hair under her little felt hat, andstrode in through the hall-door, which was closed behindher. As with a whisk her short skirts vanished into thedarkness, the two spectators--Miss Bertha and Miss MonicaWilliams--sat looking at each other in speechlessamazement. For fifty years they had peeped through thatlittle window and across that trim garden, but never yethad such a sight as this come to confound them.

"I wish," said Monica at last, "that we had kept thefield."

"I am sure I wish we had," answered her sister.