Part Two
Chapter 9: Lucy As a Work of Art
(continued)
Sir Harry blushed. Neither he nor Cecil enjoyed these open
compliments to their sex. Even the exclusion of the dirty did not
leave them much distinction. He suggested that Mrs. Honeychurch,
if she had time, should descend from the carriage and inspect
"Cissie" for herself. She was delighted. Nature had intended her
to be poor and to live in such a house. Domestic arrangements
always attracted her, especially when they were on a small
scale.
Cecil pulled Lucy back as she followed her mother.
"Mrs. Honeychurch," he said, "what if we two walk home and leave
you?"
"Certainly!" was her cordial reply.
Sir Harry likewise seemed almost too glad to get rid of them. He
beamed at them knowingly, said, "Aha! young people, young people!"
and then hastened to unlock the house.
"Hopeless vulgarian!" exclaimed Cecil, almost before they were
out of earshot,
"Oh, Cecil!"
"I can't help it. It would be wrong not to loathe that man."
"He isn't clever, but really he is nice."
"No, Lucy, he stands for all that is bad in country life. In
London he would keep his place. He would belong to a brainless
club, and his wife would give brainless dinner parties. But down
here he acts the little god with his gentility, and his
patronage, and his sham aesthetics, and every one--even your
mother--is taken in."
"All that you say is quite true," said Lucy, though she felt
discouraged. "I wonder whether--whether it matters so very much."
"It matters supremely. Sir Harry is the essence of that
garden-party. Oh, goodness, how cross I feel! How I do hope he'll
get some vulgar tenant in that villa--some woman so really vulgar
that he'll notice it. GENTLEFOLKS! Ugh! with his bald head and
retreating chin! But let's forget him."
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