e?"

"I suppose so--dear old lady! it isn't any use. I knew we should have
nothing to say. Give my love to Aunt Juley and Tibby, and take more
yourself than I can say. Promise to come and see me in Munich later."

"Certainly, dearest."

"For that is all we can do."

It seemed so. Most ghastly of all was Helen's common sense; Monica had
been extraordinarily good for her.

"I am glad to have seen you and the things." She looked at the bookcase
lovingly, as if she was saying farewell to the past.

Margaret unbolted the door. She remarked: "The car has gone, and here's
your cab."

She led the way to it, glancing at the leaves and the sky. The spring
had never seemed more beautiful. The driver, who was leaning on the
gate, called out, "Please, lady, a message," and handed her Henry's
visiting-card through the bars.

"How did this come?" she asked.

Crane had returned with it almost at once.

She read the card with annoyance. It was covered with instructions in
domestic French. When she and her sister had talked she was to come back
for the night to Dolly's. "Il faut dormir sur ce sujet." while Helen
was to be found une comfortable chambre a l'hotel. The final sentence
displeased her greatly until she remembered that the Charles's had only
one spare room, and so could not invite a third guest.

"Henry would have done what he could," she interpreted.

Helen had not followed her into the garden. The door once open, she lost
her inclination to fly. She remained in the hall, going from bookcase to
table. She grew more like the old Helen, irresponsible and charming.

"This IS Mr. Wilcox's house?" she inquired.

"Surely you remember Howards End?"

"Remember? I who remember everything! But it looks to be ours now."

"Miss Avery was extraordinary," said Margaret, her own spirits
lightening a little. Again she was invaded by a slight feeling of
disloyalty. But it brought her relief, and she yielded to it. "She loved
Mrs. Wilcox, and would rather furnish her home with our things than
think of it empty. In consequence here are all the library books."

"Not all the books. She hasn't unpacked the Art books, in which she may
show her sense. And we never used to have the sword here."

"The sword looks well, though."

"Magnificent."

"Yes, doesn't it?"

"Where's the piano, Meg?"

"I warehoused that in London. Why?"

"Nothing."

"Curious, too, that the carpet fits."

"The carpet's a mistake," announced Helen.