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The Sunday after Miss Bartlett's arrival was a glorious day； like
most of the days of that year。 In the Weald； autumn approached；
breaking up the green monotony of summer； touching the parks with
the grey bloom of mist； the beech…trees with russet； the
oak…trees with gold。 Up on the heights； battalions of black pines
witnessed the change； themselves unchangeable。 Either country was
spanned by a cloudless sky； and in either arose the tinkle of
church bells。
The garden of Windy Corners was deserted except for a red book；
which lay sunning itself upon the gravel path。 From the house
came incoherent sounds； as of females preparing for worship。 〃The
men say they won't go〃 〃Well； I don't blame them〃 Minnie
says； need she go？〃 〃Tell her； no nonsense〃 〃Anne！ Mary！
Hook me behind！〃 〃Dearest Lucia； may I trespass upon you for a
pin？〃 For Miss Bartlett had announced that she at all events was
one for church。
The sun rose higher on its journey； guided； not by Phaethon； but
by Apollo； competent； unswerving； divine。 Its rays fell on the
ladies whenever they advanced towards the bedroom windows； on
Mr。 Beebe down at Summer Street as he smiled over a letter from
Miss Catharine Alan； on George Emerson cleaning his father's
boots； and lastly； to complete the catalogue of memorable
things； on the red book mentioned previously。 The ladies move；
Mr。 Beebe moves； George moves； and movement may engender shadow。
But this book lies motionless； to be caressed all the morning by
the sun and to raise its covers slightly； as though acknowledging
the caress。
Presently Lucy steps out of the drawing…room window。 Her new
cerise dress has been a failure； and makes her look tawdry and
wan。 At her throat is a garnet brooch； on her finger a ring set
with rubiesan engagement ring。 Her eyes are bent to the Weald。
She frowns a littlenot in anger； but as a brave child frowns
when he is trying not to cry。 In all that expanse no human eye is
looking at her； and she may frown unrebuked and measure the
spaces that yet survive between Apollo and the western hills。
〃Lucy！ Lucy！ What's that book？ Who's been taking a book out of
the shelf and leaving it about to spoil？〃
〃It's only the library book that Cecil's been reading。〃
〃But pick it up； and don't stand idling there like a flamingo。〃
Lucy picked up the book and glanced at the title listlessly；
Under a Loggia。 She no longer read novels herself； devoting all
her spare time to solid literature in the hope of catching Cecil
up。 It was dreadful how little she knew； and even when she
thought she knew a thing； like the Italian painters； she found
she had forgotten it。 Only this morning she had confused
Francesco Francia with Piero della Francesca； and Cecil had
said； 〃What！ you aren't forgetting your Italy already？〃 And this
too had lent anxiety to her eyes when she saluted the dear view
and the dear garden in the foreground； and above them； scarcely
conceivable elsewhere； the dear sun。
〃Lucyhave you a sixpence for Minnie and a shilling for
yourself？〃
She hastened in to her mother； who was rapidly working herself
into a Sunday fluster。
〃It's a special collectionI forget what for。 I do beg； no
vulgar clinking in the plate with halfpennies； see that Minnie
has a nice bright sixpence。 Where is the child？ Minnie！ That
book's all warped。 （Gracious； how plain you look！） Put it under
the Atlas to press。 Minnie！〃
〃Oh； Mrs。 Honeychurch〃 from the upper regions。
〃Minnie； don't be late。 Here comes the horse〃 it was always the
horse； never the carriage。 〃Where's Charlotte？ Run up and hurry
her。 Why is she so long？ She had nothing to do。 She never brings
anything but blouses。 Poor Charlotte How I do detest blouses！
Minnie！〃
Paganism is infectiousmore infectious than diphtheria or piety
and the Rector's niece was taken to church protesting。 As
usual； she didn't see why。 Why shouldn't she sit in the sun with
the young men？ The young men； who had now appeared； mocked her
with ungenerous words。 Mrs。 Honeychurch defended orthodoxy； and
in the midst of the confusion Miss Bartlett； dressed in the very
height of the fashion； came strolling down the stairs。
〃Dear Marian； I am very sorry； but I have no small change
nothing but sovereigns and half crowns。 Could any one give me〃
〃Yes； easily。 Jump in。 Gracious me； how smart you look！ What a
lovely frock！ You put us all to shame。〃
〃If I did not wear my best rags and tatters now； when should I
wear them？〃 said Miss Bartlett reproachfully。 She got into the
victoria and placed herself with her back to the horse。 The
necessary roar ensued； and then they drove off。
〃Good…bye！ Be good！〃 called out Cecil。
Lucy bit her lip； for the tone was sneering。 On the subject of
〃church and so on〃 they had had rather an unsatisfactory
conversation。 He had said that people ought to overhaul
themselves； and she did not want to overhaul herself； she did not
know it was done。 Honest orthodoxy Cecil respected； but he always
assumed that honesty is the result of a spiritual crisis； he
could not imagine it as a natural birthright； that might grow
heavenward like flowers。 All that he said on this subject pained
her； though he exuded tolerance from every pore； somehow the
Emersons were different。
She saw the Emersons after church。 There was a line of carriages
down the road； and the Honeychurch vehicle happened to be
opposite Cissie Villa。 To save time； they walked over the green
to it； and found father and son smoking in the garden。
〃Introduce me；〃 said her mother。 〃Unless the young man considers
that he knows me already。〃
He probably did； but Lucy ignored the Sacred Lake and introduced
them formally。 Old Mr。 Emerson claimed her with much warmth； and
said how glad he was that she was going to be married。 She said
yes； she was glad too； and then； as Miss Bartlett and Minnie were
lingering behind with Mr。 Beebe； she turned the conversation to a
less disturbing topic； and asked him how he liked his new house。
〃Very much；〃 he replied； but there was a note of offence in his
voice； she had never known him offended before。 He added： 〃We
find； though； that the Miss Alans were coming； and that we have
turned them out。 Women mind such a thing。 I am very much upset
about it。〃
〃I believe that there was some misunderstanding；〃 said Mrs。
Honeychurch uneasily。
〃Our landlord was told that we should be a different type of
person；〃 said George； who seemed disposed to carry the matter
further。 〃He thought we should be artistic。 He is disappointed。〃
〃And I wonder whether we ought to write to the Miss Alans and
offer to give it up。 What do you think？〃 He appealed to Lucy。
〃Oh； stop now you have come；〃 said Lucy lightly。 She must avoid
censuring Cecil。 For it was on Cecil that the little episode
turned； though his name was never mentioned。
〃So George says。 He says that the Miss Alans must go to th