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〃Well；〃 said he； 〃I cannot help it if they do disapprove of me。
There are certain irremovable barriers between myself and them；
and I must accept them。〃
〃We all have our limitations； I suppose；〃 said wise Lucy。
〃Sometimes they are forced on us； though；〃 said Cecil； who saw
from her remark that she did not quite understand his position。
〃How？〃
〃It makes a difference doesn't it； whether we fully fence
ourselves in； or whether we are fenced out by the barriers of
others？〃
She thought a moment； and agreed that it did make a difference。
〃Difference？〃 cried Mrs。 Honeychurch； suddenly alert。 〃I don't
see any difference。 Fences are fences； especially when they are
in the same place。〃
〃We were speaking of motives；〃 said Cecil； on whom the
interruption jarred。
〃My dear Cecil； look here。〃 She spread out her knees and perched
her card…case on her lap。 〃This is me。 That's Windy Corner。 The
rest of the pattern is the other people。 Motives are all very
well； but the fence comes here。〃
〃We weren't talking of real fences；〃 said Lucy； laughing。
〃Oh； I see； dearpoetry。〃
She leant placidly back。 Cecil wondered why Lucy had been amused。
〃I tell you who has no 'fences；' as you call them；〃 she said；
〃and that's Mr。 Beebe。〃
〃A parson fenceless would mean a parson defenceless。〃
Lucy was slow to follow what people said； but quick enough to
detect what they meant。 She missed Cecil's epigram； but grasped
the feeling that prompted it。
〃Don't you like Mr。 Beebe？〃 she asked thoughtfully。
〃I never said so！〃 he cried。 〃I consider him far above the
average。 I only denied〃 And he swept off on the subject of
fences again； and was brilliant。
〃Now； a clergyman that I do hate；〃 said she wanting to say
something sympathetic； 〃a clergyman that does have fences； and
the most dreadful ones； is Mr。 Eager； the English chaplain at
Florence。 He was truly insincerenot merely the manner
unfortunate。 He was a snob； and so conceited； and he did say such
unkind things。〃
〃What sort of things？〃
〃There was an old man at the Bertolini whom he said had murdered
his wife。〃
〃Perhaps he had。〃
〃No！〃
〃Why 'no'？〃
〃He was such a nice old man； I'm sure。〃
Cecil laughed at her feminine inconsequence。
〃Well； I did try to sift the thing。 Mr。 Eager would never come
to the point。 He prefers it vaguesaid the old man had
'practically' murdered his wifehad murdered her in the sight of
God。〃
〃Hush； dear！〃 said Mrs。 Honeychurch absently。 〃But isn't it
intolerable that a person whom we're told to imitate should go
round spreading slander？ It was； I believe； chiefly owing to him
that the old man was dropped。 People pretended he was vulgar； but
he certainly wasn't that。〃
〃Poor old man！ What was his name？〃
〃Harris；〃 said Lucy glibly。
〃Let's hope that Mrs。 Harris there warn't no sich person；〃 said
her mother。
Cecil nodded intelligently。
〃Isn't Mr。 Eager a parson of the cultured type？〃 he asked。
〃I don't know。 I hate him。 I've heard him lecture on Giotto。 I
hate him。 Nothing can hide a petty nature。 I HATE him。〃
〃My goodness gracious me； child！〃 said Mrs。 Honeychurch。 〃You'll
blow my head off！ Whatever is there to shout over？ I forbid you
and Cecil to hate any more clergymen。〃
He smiled。 There was indeed something rather incongruous in
Lucy's moral outburst over Mr。 Eager。 It was as if one should see
the Leonardo on the ceiling of the Sistine。 He longed to hint to
her that not here lay her vocation； that a woman's power and
charm reside in mystery； not in muscular rant。 But possibly rant
is a sign of vitality： it mars the beautiful creature； but shows
that she is alive。 After a moment； he contemplated her flushed
face and excited gestures with a certain approval。 He forebore to
repress the sources of youth。
Naturesimplest of topics； he thoughtlay around them。 He
praised the pine…woods； the deep lasts of bracken； the crimson
leaves that spotted the hurt…bushes； the serviceable beauty of
the turnpike road。 The outdoor world was not very familiar to
him； and occasionally he went wrong in a question of fact。 Mrs。
Honeychurch's mouth twitched when he spoke of the perpetual green
of the larch。
〃I count myself a lucky person；〃 he concluded； 〃When I'm in
London I feel I could never live out of it。 When I'm in the
country I feel the same about the country。 After all； I do
believe that birds and trees and the sky are the most wonderful
things in life； and that the people who live amongst them must be
the best。 It's true that in nine cases out of ten they don't seem
to notice anything。 The country gentleman and the country
labourer are each in their way the most depressing of companions。
Yet they may have a tacit sympathy with the workings of Nature
which is denied to us of the town。 Do you feel that； Mrs。
Honeychurch？〃
Mrs。 Honeychurch started and smiled。 She had not been attending。
Cecil； who was rather crushed on the front seat of the victoria；
felt irritable； and determined not to say anything interesting
again。
Lucy had not attended either。 Her brow was wrinkled； and she
still looked furiously crossthe result； he concluded； of too
much moral gymnastics。 It was sad to see her thus blind to the
beauties of an August wood。
〃'Come down； O maid； from yonder mountain height；'〃 he quoted；
and touched her knee with his own。
She flushed again and said： 〃What height？〃
〃'Come down； O maid； from yonder mountain height；
What pleasure lives in height （the shepherd sang）。
In height and in the splendour of the hills？'
Let us take Mrs。 Honeychurch's advice and hate clergymen no
more。 What's this place？〃
〃Summer Street； of course；〃 said Lucy； and roused herself。
The woods had opened to leave space for a sloping triangular
meadow。 Pretty cottages lined it on two sides； and the upper and
third side was occupied by a new stone church； expensively
simple； a charming shingled spire。 Mr。 Beebe's house was near the
church。 In height it scarcely exceeded the cottages。 Some great
mansions were at hand； but they were hidden in the trees。 The
scene suggested a Swiss Alp rather than the shrine and centre of
a leisured world； and was marred only by two ugly little villas
the villas that had competed with Cecil's engagement； having been
acquired by Sir Harry Otway the very afternoon that Lucy had been
acquired by Cecil。
〃Cissie〃 was the name of one of these villas； 〃Albert〃 of the
other。 These titles were not only picked out in shaded Gothic on
the garden gates； but appeared a second time on the porches；
where they followed the semicircular curve of the entrance arch
in block capitals。 〃Albert〃 was inhabited。 His tortured garden
was bright with geraniums and lobelias and polished shells。 His
little windows were chastely swathed in Nottingham lace。 〃Cissie〃
was to let。 Three notice…boards； belonging to Dorking agents；
lolled on her fence and announced the not surprising fact。 Her
paths were already weedy； her pocket…handkerchief of a lawn was
yellow with dandelions。
〃The place is ruined！〃 said the ladies mechanically。 〃Summer
Street will never be the same again。〃
As the carriage passed； 〃Cissie's〃 door opened； and a gentleman
came out of her。
〃Stop！〃 cried Mrs。 Honeychurch； touching the coachman with her
parasol。 〃Here's Sir Harry。 Now we shall know。 Sir Harry； pull
those things down at once！〃
Sir Harry Otwaywho need not be describedcame to the carriage
and said 〃Mrs。 Honeychurch； I meant to。 I can't； I really can't
turn out Miss Flack。〃
〃Am I not always right？ She ought to have gone before the
contract was signed。 Does she still live rent free； as she did in
her nephew's time？〃
〃But what can I do？〃 He lowered his voice。 〃An old lady； so very
vulgar； and almost bedridden。〃
〃Turn her out；〃 said Cecil bravely。
Sir Harry sighed； and looked at the villas mournfully。 He had had
full warning of Mr。 Flack's intentions； and might have bought the
plot before building commenced： but he was apathetic and
dilatory。 He had known Summer Street for so many years that he
could not imagine it being spoilt。 Not till Mrs。 Flack had laid
the foundation stone； and the apparition of red and cream brick
began to rise did he take alarm。 He called on Mr。 Flack； the
local builder；a most reasonable and respectful manwho agreed
that tiles would have made more artistic roof； but pointed out
that slates were cheaper。 He ventured to differ； however； about
the Corinthian columns which were to cling like leeches to the
frames of the bow windows； saying that； for his part； he liked to
relieve the facade by a bit of decoration。 Sir Harry hinted that
a column； if possible； should be structural as well as
decorative。
Mr。 Flack replied that all the columns had been ordered； adding；
〃and all