Part Two
Chapter 8: Medieval
(continued)
The Honeychurches were a worthy family, but he began to realize
that Lucy was of another clay; and perhaps--he did not put it
very definitely--he ought to introduce her into more congenial
circles as soon as possible.
"Mr. Beebe!" said the maid, and the new rector of Summer Street
was shown in; he had at once started on friendly relations, owing
to Lucy's praise of him in her letters from Florence.
Cecil greeted him rather critically.
"I've come for tea, Mr. Vyse. Do you suppose that I shall get
it?"
"I should say so. Food is the thing one does get here--Don't sit
in that chair; young Honeychurch has left a bone in it."
"Pfui!"
"I know," said Cecil. "I know. I can't think why Mrs. Honeychurch
allows it."
For Cecil considered the bone and the Maples' furniture
separately; he did not realize that, taken together, they kindled
the room into the life that he desired.
"I've come for tea and for gossip. Isn't this news?"
"News? I don't understand you," said Cecil. "News?"
Mr. Beebe, whose news was of a very different nature, prattled
forward.
"I met Sir Harry Otway as I came up; I have every reason to hope
that I am first in the field. He has bought Cissie and Albert
from Mr. Flack!"
"Has he indeed?" said Cecil, trying to recover himself. Into what
a grotesque mistake had he fallen! Was it likely that a clergyman
and a gentleman would refer to his engagement in a manner so
flippant? But his stiffness remained, and, though he asked who
Cissie and Albert might be, he still thought Mr. Beebe rather a
bounder.
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