When they went to South America for six months, the Henslows, that live across the street from me, wanted to rent their cottage. And of course, being a neighbor, I wanted them to get the fifteen dollars a month. But—being the cottage was my neighbor—I couldn't help, deep down in my inner head, feeling kind of selfish pleased that it stood vacant a while. It's a chore to have a new neighbor in the summer. They always want to borrow your rubber fruit-rings, and they forget to return some; and they come in and sit in the mornings when you want to get your work out of the way before the hot part of a hot day crashes down on you. I can neighbor agreeable when the snow flies, but summers I want my porch and my rocker and my wrapper and my palm-leaf fan, and nobody to call on. And—I don't want to sound less neighborly than I mean to sound—I don't want any real danger of being what you might say called-on—not till the cool of the day.
Then, on a glorious summer morning, right out of a clear blue sky, what did I see but two trunks plopped down on the Henslows' porch! I knew they were never back so soon. I knew the two trunks meant renters, and nothing but renters.
"I'll bet ten hundred thousand dollars one of them plays the flute and practices evenings," I says.
I didn't catch sight of them till the next morning, and then I saw him head for the early train into the city, and her stand at the gate and watch him. And, my land, she was in a white dress and she didn't look twenty years old.
So I went right straight over.
"My dear," I says, "I dunno what your name is, but I'm your neighbor, and I dunno what more we need than that."
She put out her hand—just exactly as if she was glad. She had a wonderful sweet, loving smile—and she smiled with that.
So I says: "I thought moving in here with trunks, so, you might want something. And if I can let you have anything—jars or jelly-glasses or rubber rings or whatever, why, just you—"
"Thank you, Miss Marsh," she says. "I know you're Miss Marsh—Mrs. Henslow told me about you."
"The same," says I, neat.