ied through the
negotiations without a hitch. Sir Harry Otway signed the agreement,
met Mr. Emerson, who was duly disillusioned. The Miss Alans were
duly offended, and wrote a dignified letter to Lucy, whom they held
responsible for the failure. Mr. Beebe planned pleasant moments for the
new-comers, and told Mrs. Honeychurch that Freddy must call on them as
soon as they arrived. Indeed, so ample was the Muse's equipment that she
permitted Mr. Harris, never a very robust criminal, to droop his head,
to be forgotten, and to die.

Lucy--to descend from bright heaven to earth, whereon there are shadows
because there are hills--Lucy was at first plunged into despair, but
settled after a little thought that it did not matter the very least.
Now that she was engaged, the Emersons would scarcely insult her and
were welcome into the neighbourhood. And Cecil was welcome to bring whom
he would into the neighbourhood. Therefore Cecil was welcome to bring
the Emersons into the neighbourhood. But, as I say, this took a little
thinking, and--so illogical are girls--the event remained rather greater
and rather more dreadful than it should have done. She was glad that
a visit to Mrs. Vyse now fell due; the tenants moved into Cissie Villa
while she was safe in the London flat.

"Cecil--Cecil darling," she whispered the evening she arrived, and crept
into his arms.

Cecil, too, became demonstrative. He saw that the needful fire had been
kindled in Lucy. At last she longed for attention, as a woman should,
and looked up to him because he was a man.

"So you do love me, little thing?" he murmured.

"Oh, Cecil, I do, I do! I don't know what I should do without you."

Several days passed. Then she had a letter from Miss Bartlett. A
coolness had sprung up between the two cousins, and they had not
corresponded since they parted in August. The coolness dated from what
Charlotte would call "the flight to Rome," and in Rome it had increased
amazingly. For the companion who is merely uncongenial in the mediaeval
world becomes exasperating in the classical. Charlotte, unselfish in the
Forum, would have tried a sweeter temper than Lucy's, and once, in the
Baths of Caracalla, they had doubted whether they could continue
their tour. Lucy had said she would join the Vyses--Mrs. Vyse was an
acquaintance of her mother, so there was no impropriety in the plan and
Miss Bartlett had replied that she was quite used to being abandoned
suddenly. Finally