There was thus but one villa unoccupied, and it was no wonder that the two maiden ladies watched with a keen interest, which deepened into a dire apprehension, the curious incidents which heralded the coming of the new tenants.  They had already learned from the agent that the family consisted of two only, Mrs. Westmacott, a widow, and her nephew, Charles Westmacott.  How simple and how select it had sounded!  Who could have foreseen from it these fearful portents which seemed to threaten violence and discord among the dwellers in The Wilderness?  Again the two old maids cried in heartfelt chorus that they wished they had not sold their field.

“Well, at least, Monica,” remarked Bertha, as they sat over their teacups that afternoon, “however strange these people may be, it is our duty to be as polite to them as to the others.”

“Most certainly,” acquiesced her sister.

“Since we have called upon Mrs. Hay Denver and upon the Misses Walker, we must call upon this Mrs. Westmacott also.”

“Certainly, dear.  As long as they are living upon our land I feel as if they were in a sense our guests, and that it is our duty to welcome them.”

“Then we shall call to-morrow,” said Bertha, with decision.

“Yes, dear, we shall.  But, oh, I wish it was over!”

At four o’clock on the next day, the two maiden ladies set off upon their hospitable errand.  In their stiff, crackling dresses of black silk, with jet-bespangled jackets, and little rows of cylindrical grey curls drooping down on either side of their black bonnets, they looked like two old fashion plates which had wandered off into the wrong decade.  Half curious and half fearful, they knocked at the door of number three, which was instantly opened by a red-headed page-boy.

Yes, Mrs. Westmacott was at home.  He ushered them into the front room, furnished as a drawing-room, where in spite of the fine spring weather a large fire was burning in the grate.  The boy took their cards, and then, as they sat down together upon a settee, he set their nerves in a thrill by darting behind a curtain with a shrill cry, and prodding at something with his foot.  The bull pup which they had seen upon the day before bolted from its hiding-place, and scuttled snarling from the room.

“It wants to get at Eliza,” said the youth, in a confidential whisper.  “Master says she would give him more’n he brought.”  He smiled affably at the two little stiff black figures, and departed in search of his mistress.

“What—­what did he say?” gasped Bertha.

“Something about a——­ Oh, goodness gracious!  Oh, help, help, help, help, help!” The two sisters had bounded on to the settee, and stood there with staring eyes and skirts gathered in, while they filled the whole house with their yells.  Out of a high wicker-work basket which stood by the fire there had risen a flat diamond-shaped head with wicked green eyes which came flickering upwards, waving gently from side to side, until a foot or more of glossy scaly neck was visible.  Slowly the vicious head came floating up, while at every oscillation a fresh burst of shrieks came from the settee.