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[Illustration: NEW NEIGHBORS.

_"Who can have taken the Ferguses' house, sister?" said a brisk little
old lady, peeping through the window blinds._--p. 7.]




WE AND OUR NEIGHBORS:

OR,

THE RECORDS OF AN UNFASHIONABLE STREET.

(_Sequel to "My Wife and I."_)

_A NOVEL._

BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.


_Author of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," "My Wife and I," etc._

With Illustrations.

[Illustration]

NEW YORK:

J. B. FORD & COMPANY.




COPYRIGHT A.D. 1875




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER                                                 PAGE

      I.--THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET                     7

     II.--HOW WE BEGIN LIFE                               23

    III.--THE FAMILY DICTATOR AT WORK                     30

     IV.--EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER                           42

      V.--AUNT MARIA ROUSES A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT         52

     VI.--THE SETTLING OF THE WATERS                      69

    VII.--LETTERS AND AIR-CASTLES                         78

   VIII.--THE VANDERHEYDEN FORTRESS TAKEN                 86

     IX.--JIM AND ALICE                                   95

      X.--MR. ST. JOHN                                   103

     XI.--AUNT MARIA CLEARS HER CONSCIENCE               115

    XII.--"WHY CAN'T THEY LET US ALONE?"                 131

   XIII.--OUR "EVENING" PROJECTED                        144

    XIV.--MR. ST. JOHN IS OUTARGUED                      152

     XV.--GETTING READY TO BEGIN                         160

    XVI.--THE MINISTER'S VISIT                           173

   XVII.--OUR FIRST THURSDAY                             178

  XVIII.--RAKING UP THE FIRE                             192

    XIX.--A LOST SHEEP                                   197

     XX.--EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER                          201

    XXI.--BOLTON AND ST. JOHN                            207

   XXII.--BOLTON TO CAROLINE                             214

  XXIII.--THE SISTERS OF ST. BARNABAS                    221

   XXIV.--EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER                          227

    XXV.--AUNT MARIA ENDEAVORS TO SET MATTERS RIGHT      232

   XXVI.--SHE STOOD OUTSIDE THE GATE                     243

  XXVII.--ROUGH HANDLING OF SORE NERVES                  253

 XXVIII.--REASON AND UNREASON                            262

   XXIX.--AUNT MARIA FREES HER MIND                      270

    XXX.--A DINNER ON WASHING DAY                        274

   XXXI.--WHAT THEY TALKED ABOUT                         285

  XXXII.--A MISTRESS WITHOUT A MAID                      296

 XXXIII.--A FOUR-FOOTED PRODIGAL                         307

  XXXIV.--GOING TO THE BAD                               317

   XXXV.--A SOUL IN PERIL                                328

  XXXVI.--LOVE IN CHRISTMAS GREENS                       339

 XXXVII.--THEREAFTER?                                    350

XXXVIII.--"WE MUST BE CAUTIOUS"                          357

  XXXIX.--SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOR--WHAT?                365

     XL.--THE ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCED                       369

    XLI.--LETTER FROM EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER              375

   XLII.--JIM'S FORTUNES                                 387

  XLIII.--A MIDNIGHT CAUCUS OVER THE COALS               399

   XLIV.--FLUCTUATIONS                                   407

    XLV.--THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW                       414

   XLVI.--WHAT THEY ALL SAID ABOUT IT                    418

  XLVII.--"IN THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS"                   430

 XLVIII.--THE PEARL CROSS                                439

   XLIX.--THE UNPROTECTED FEMALE                         448

      L.--EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER                          461

     LI.--THE HOUR AND THE WOMAN                         465

    LII.--EVA'S CONSULTATIONS                            469

   LIII.--WEDDING PRESENTS                               474

    LIV.--MARRIED AND A'                                 478




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.


I.--NEW NEIGHBORS                                     _Frontispiece._

"_'Who can have taken the Ferguses' house, sister?' said a
brisk little old lady, peeping through the window blinds._"

                                                                PAGE

II.--TALKING IT OVER                                              73

"_Come now, Puss, out with it. Why that anxious brow?
What domestic catastrophe?_"

III.--THE DOMESTIC ARTIST                                        131

"_A spray of ivy that was stretching towards the window had been
drawn back and was forced to wreathe itself around a picture._"

IV.--WICKEDNESS, OR MISERY?                                      197

"_Bolton laid his hand on her shoulder, and, looking down
on her, said: 'Poor child, have you no mother?'_"

V.--CONFIDENCES                                                  287

"_In due course followed an introduction to'my wife,' whose
photograph Mr. Selby wore dutifully in his coat-pocket._"

VI.--GOING TO THE BAD                                            327

"_The sweet-faced woman calls the attention of her husband.
He frowns, whips up the horse, and is gone.... Bitterness
possesses Maggie's soul.... Why not go to the bad?_"

VII.--SKIRMISHING                                                341

"_'I like your work,' he said, 'better than you do mine.'
'I didn't say that I didn't like yours,' said Angie, coloring._"

VIII.--A MIDNIGHT CAUCUS                                         400

"_'There, now he's off,' said Eva... then, leaning back,
she began taking out hair-pins and shaking down curls and
untying ribbons as a preface to a wholly free conversation._"




WE AND OUR NEIGHBORS.




_CHAPTER I._

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET.


"Who can have taken the Ferguses' house, sister?" said a brisk little
old lady, peeping through the window blinds. "It's taken! Just come
here and look! There's a cart at the door."

"You don't say so!" said Miss Dorcas, her elder sister, flying across
the room to the window blinds, behind which Mrs. Betsey sat discreetly
ensconced with her knitting work. "Where? Jack, get down, sir!" This
last remark was addressed to a rough-coated Dandie Dinmont terrier,
who had been winking in a half doze on a cushion at Miss Dorcas's
feet. On the first suggestion that there was something to be looked at
across the street, Jack had ticked briskly across the room, and now
stood on his hind legs on an old embroidered chair, peering through
the slats as industriously as if his opinion had been requested. "Get
down, sir!" persisted Miss Dorcas. But Jack only winked contumaciously
at Mrs. Betsey, whom he justly considered in the light of an ally,
planted his toe nails more firmly in the embroidered chair-bottom, and
stuck his nose further between the slats, while Mrs. Betsey took up
for him, as he knew she would.

"Do let the dog alone, Dorcas! _He_ wants to see as much as anybody."

"Now, Betsey, how am I ever to teach Jack not to jump on these chairs
if you will always take his part? Besides, next we shall know, he'll
be barking through the window blinds," said Miss Dorcas.

Mrs. Betsey replied to the expostulation by making a sudden diversion
of subject. "Oh, look, look!" she called, "that must be _she_," as a
face with radiant, dark eyes, framed in an aureole of bright golden
hair, appeared in the doorway of the house across the street. "She's a
pretty creature, anyway--much prettier than poor dear Mrs. Fergus."

"Henderson, you say the name is?" said Miss Dorcas.

"Yes. Simons, the provision man at the corner, told me that the
house had been bought by a young editor, or something of that sort,
named Henderson--somebody that writes for the papers. He married Van
Arsdel's daughter."

"What, the Van Arsdels that failed last spring? One of our mushroom
New York aristocracy--up to-day and down to-morrow!" commented Miss
Dorcas, with an air of superiority. "Poor things!"

"A very imprudent marriage, I don't doubt," sighed Mrs. Betsey. "These
upstart modern families never bring up their girls to do anything."

"She seems to be putting her hand to the plough, though," said Miss
Dorcas. "See, she actually is lifting out that package herself! Upon
my word, a very pretty creature. I think we must take her up."

"The Ferguses were nice," said Mrs. Betsey, "though he was only a
newspaper man, and she was a nobody; but she really did quite answer
the purpose for a neighbor--not, of course, one of our sort exactly,
but a very respectable, lady-like little body."

"Well," said Miss Dorcas, reflectively, "I always said it doesn't do
to carry exclusiveness too far. Poor dear Papa was quite a democrat.
He often said that he had seen quite good manners and real refinement
in people of the most ordinary origin."

"And, to be sure," said Mrs. Betsey, "if one is to be too particular,
one doesn't get anybody to associate with. The fact is, the good old
families we used to visit have either died off or moved off up into
the new streets, and one does like to have _somebody_ to speak to."

"Look there, Betsey, do you suppose that's Mr. Henderson that's coming
down the street?" said Miss Dorcas.

"Dear me!" said Mrs. Betsey, in an anxious flutter. "Why, there are
_two_ of them--they are both taking hold to lift out that bureau--see
there! Now _she's_ put her head out of the chamber window there, and
is speaking to them. What a pretty color her hair is!"

At this moment the horse on the other side of the street started
prematurely, for some reason best known to himself, and the bureau
came down with a thud; and Jack, who considered his opinion as now
called for, barked frantically through the blinds.

Miss Dorcas seized his muzzle energetically and endeavored to hold
his jaws together, but he still barked in a smothered and convulsive
manner; whereat the good lady swept him, _vi et armis_, from his
perch, and disciplined him vigorously, forcing him to retire to his
cushion in a distant corner, where he still persistently barked.

"Oh, poor doggie!" sighed Mrs. Betsey. "Dorcas, how can you?"

"How can I?" said Miss Dorcas, in martial tones. "Betsey Ann
Benthusen, this dog would grow up a perfect pest of this
neighborhood if I left him to you. He _must_ learn not to get up
and bark through those blinds. It isn't so much matter now the
windows are shut, but the _habit_ is the thing. Who wants to have
a dog firing a fusillade when your visitors come up the front
steps--barking-enough-to-split-one's-head-open," added Miss Dorcas,
turning upon the culprit, with a severe staccato designed to tell upon
his conscience.

Jack bowed his head and rolled his great soft eyes at her through a
silvery thicket of hair.

"You are a _very_ naughty dog," she added, impressively.

Jack sat up on his haunches and waved his front paws in a deprecating
manner to Miss Dorcas, and the good lady laughed and said, cheerily,
"Well, well, Jacky, be a good dog now, and we'll be friends."

And Jacky wagged his tail in the most demonstrative manner, and
frisked with triumphant assurance of restored favor. It was the usual
end of disciplinary struggles with him. Miss Dorcas sat down to a bit
of worsted work on which she had been busy when her attention was
first called to the window.

Mrs. Betsey, however, with her nose close to the window blinds,
continued to announce the state of things over the way in short jets
of communication.

"There! the gentlemen are both gone in--and there! the cart has driven
off. Now, they've shut the front door," etc.

After