Part Two
Chapter 19: Lying to Mr. Emerson
(continued)
"Thank you."
At that moment Mr. Beebe came back from church. His cassock was
covered with rain. "That's all right," he said kindly. "I counted
on you two keeping each other company. It's pouring again. The
entire congregation, which consists of your cousin, your mother,
and my mother, stands waiting in the church, till the carriage
fetches it. Did Powell go round?"
"I think so; I'll see."
"No--of course, I'll see. How are the Miss Alans?"
"Very well, thank you."
"Did you tell Mr. Emerson about Greece?"
"I--I did."
"Don't you think it very plucky of her, Mr. Emerson, to undertake
the two Miss Alans? Now, Miss Honeychurch, go back--keep warm. I
think three is such a courageous number to go travelling." And he
hurried off to the stables.
"He is not going," she said hoarsely. "I made a slip. Mr. Vyse
does stop behind in England."
Somehow it was impossible to cheat this old man. To George, to
Cecil, she would have lied again; but he seemed so near the end
of things, so dignified in his approach to the gulf, of which he
gave one account, and the books that surrounded him another, so
mild to the rough paths that he had traversed, that the true
chivalry--not the worn-out chivalry of sex, but the true chivalry
that all the young may show to all the old--awoke in her, and, at
whatever risk, she told him that Cecil was not her companion to
Greece. And she spoke so seriously that the risk became a
certainty, and he, lifting his eyes, said: "You are leaving him?
You are leaving the man you love?"
"I--I had to."
"Why, Miss Honeychurch, why?"
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