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Persephone　whom　he　asked　leave　to　pick　up　on　the　way；　saying

that　she　was　his　sisterPersephone；　tall　and　slender　and　pale；

returning　with　the　Spring　to　her　mother's　cottage；　and　still

shading　her　eyes　from　the　unaccustomed　light。　To　her　Mr。　Eager

objected；　saying　that　here　was　the　thin　edge　of　the　wedge；　and

one　must　guard　against　imposition。　But　the　ladies　interceded；　and

when　it　had　been　made　clear　that　it　was　a　very　great　favour；　the

goddess　was　allowed　to　mount　beside　the　god。



Phaethon　at　once　slipped　the　left　rein　over　her　head；　thus

enabling　himself　to　drive　with　his　arm　round　her　waist。　She　did

not　mind。　Mr。　Eager；　who　sat　with　his　back　to　the　horses；　saw

nothing　of　the　indecorous　proceeding；　and　continued　his

conversation　with　Lucy。　The　other　two　occupants　of　the　carriage

were　old　Mr。　Emerson　and　Miss　Lavish。　For　a　dreadful　thing　had

happened：　Mr。　Beebe；　without　consulting　Mr。　Eager；　had　doubled

the　size　of　the　party。　And　though　Miss　Bartlett　and　Miss　Lavish

had　planned　all　the　morning　how　the　people　were　to　sit；　at　the

critical　moment　when　the　carriages　came　round　they　lost　their

heads；　and　Miss　Lavish　got　in　with　Lucy；　while　Miss　Bartlett；

with　George　Emerson　and　Mr。　Beebe；　followed　on　behind。



It　was　hard　on　the　poor　chaplain　to　have　his　partie　carree　thus

transformed。　Tea　at　a　Renaissance　villa；　if　he　had　ever　meditated

it；　was　now　impossible。　Lucy　and　Miss　Bartlett　had　a　certain

style　about　them；　and　Mr。　Beebe；　though　unreliable；　was　a　man　of

parts。　But　a　shoddy　lady　writer　and　a　journalist　who　had　murdered

his　wife　in　the　sight　of　Godthey　should　enter　no　villa　at　his

introduction。



Lucy；　elegantly　dressed　in　white；　sat　erect　and　nervous　amid

these　explosive　ingredients；　attentive　to　Mr。　Eager；　repressive

towards　Miss　Lavish；　watchful　of　old　Mr。　Emerson；　hitherto

fortunately　asleep；　thanks　to　a　heavy　lunch　and　the　drowsy

atmosphere　of　Spring。　She　looked　on　the　expedition　as　the　work　of

Fate。　But　for　it　she　would　have　avoided　George　Emerson

successfully。　In　an　open　manner　he　had　shown　that　he　wished　to

continue　their　intimacy。　She　had　refused；　not　because　she

disliked　him；　but　because　she　did　not　know　what　had　happened；　and

suspected　that　he　did　know。　And　this　frightened　her。



For　the　real　eventwhatever　it　washad　taken　place；　not　in　the

Loggia；　but　by　the　river。　To　behave　wildly　at　the　sight　of　death

is　pardonable。　But　to　discuss　it　afterwards；　to　pass　from

discussion　into　silence；　and　through　silence　into　sympathy；　that

is　an　error；　not　of　a　startled　emotion；　but　of　the　whole　fabric。

There　was　really　something　blameworthy　（she　thought）　in　their

joint　contemplation　of　the　shadowy　stream；　in　the　common　impulse

which　had　turned　them　to　the　house　without　the　passing　of　a　look

or　word。　This　sense　of　wickedness　had　been　slight　at　first。　She

had　nearly　joined　the　party　to　the　Torre　del　Gallo。　But　each　time

that　she　avoided　George　it　became　more　imperative　that　she　should

avoid　him　again。　And　now　celestial　irony；　working　through　her

cousin　and　two　clergymen；　did　not　suffer　her　to　leave　Florence

till　she　had　made　this　expedition　with　him　through　the　hills。



Meanwhile　Mr。　Eager　held　her　in　civil　converse；　their　little　tiff

was　over。



〃So；　Miss　Honeychurch；　you　are　travelling？　As　a　student　of　art？〃



〃Oh；　dear　me；　nooh；　no！〃



〃Perhaps　as　a　student　of　human　nature；〃　interposed　Miss　Lavish；

〃like　myself？〃



〃Oh；　no。　I　am　here　as　a　tourist。〃



〃Oh；　indeed；〃　said　Mr。　Eager。　〃Are　you　indeed？　If　you　will　not

think　me　rude；　we　residents　sometimes　pity　you　poor　tourists

not　a　littlehanded　about　like　a　parcel　of　goods　from　Venice　to

Florence；　from　Florence　to　Rome；　living　herded　together　in

pensions　or　hotels；　quite　unconscious　of　anything　that　is　outside

Baedeker；　their　one　anxiety　to　get　'done'　or　'through'　and　go　on

somewhere　else。　The　result　is；　they　mix　up　towns；　rivers；　palaces

in　one　inextricable　whirl。　You　know　the　American　girl　in　Punch

who　says：　'Say；　poppa；　what　did　we　see　at　Rome？'　And　the　father

replies：　'Why；　guess　Rome　was　the　place　where　we　saw　the　yaller

dog。'　There's　travelling　for　you。　Ha！　ha！　ha！〃



〃I　quite　agree；〃　said　Miss　Lavish；　who　had　several　times　tried　to

interrupt　his　mordant　wit。　〃The　narrowness　and　superficiality　of

the　Anglo…Saxon　tourist　is　nothing　less　than　a　menace。〃



〃Quite　so。　Now；　the　English　colony　at　Florence；　Miss　Honeychurch

and　it　is　of　considerable　size；　though；　of　course；　not　all

equallya　few　are　here　for　trade；　for　example。　But　the　greater

part　are　students。　Lady　Helen　Laverstock　is　at　present　busy　over

Fra　Angelico。　I　mention　her　name　because　we　are　passing　her　villa

on　the　left。　No；　you　can　only　see　it　if　you　standno；　do　not

stand；　you　will　fall。　She　is　very　proud　of　that　thick　hedge。

Inside；　perfect　seclusion。　One　might　have　gone　back　six　hundred

years。　Some　critics　believe　that　her　garden　was　the　scene　of　The

Decameron；　which　lends　it　an　additional　interest；　does　it　not？〃



〃It　does　indeed！〃　cried　Miss　Lavish。　〃Tell　me；　where　do　they

place　the　scene　of　that　wonderful　seventh　day？〃



But　Mr。　Eager　proceeded　to　tell　Miss　Honeychurch　that　on　the

right　lived　Mr。　Someone　Something；　an　American　of　the　best　type

so　rare！and　that　the　Somebody　Elses　were　farther　down　the

hill。　〃Doubtless　you　know　her　monographs　in　the　series　of

'Mediaeval　Byways'？　He　is　working　at　Gemistus　Pletho。　Sometimes

as　I　take　tea　in　their　beautiful　grounds　I　hear；　over　the　wall；

the　electric　tram　squealing　up　the　new　road　with　its　loads　of　hot；

dusty；　unintelligent　tourists　who　are　going　to　'do'　Fiesole　in　an

hour　in　order　that　they　may　say　they　have　been　there；　and　I

thinkthinkI　think　how　little　they　think　what　lies　so　near

them。〃



During　this　speech　the　two　figures　on　the　box　were　sporting　with

each　other　disgracefully。　Lucy　had　a　spasm　of　envy。　Granted　that

they　wished　to　misbehave；　it　was　pleasant　for　them　to　be　able　to

do　so。　They　were　probably　the　only　people　enjoying　the

expedition。　The　carriage　swept　with　agonizing　jolts　up　through

the　Piazza　of　Fiesole　and　into　the　Settignano　road。



〃Piano！　piano！〃　said　Mr。　Eager；　elegantly　waving　his　hand　over

his　head。



〃Va　bene；　signore；　va　bene；　va　bene；〃　crooned　the　driver；　and

whipped　his　horses　up　again。



Now　Mr。　Eager　and　Miss　Lavish　began　to　talk　against　each　other　on

the　subject　of　Alessio　Baldovinetti。　Was　he　a　cause　of　the

Renaissance；　or　was　he　one　of　its　manifestations？　The　other

carriage　was　left　behind。　As　the　pace　increased　to　a　gallop　the

large；　slumbering　form　of　Mr。　Emerson　was　thrown　against　the

chaplain　with　the　regularity　of　a　machine。



〃Piano！　piano！〃　said　he；　with　a　martyred　look　at　Lucy。



An　extra　lurch　made　him　turn　angrily　in　his　seat。　Phaethon；　who

for　some　time　had　been　endeavouring　to　kiss　Persephone；　had　just

succeeded。



A　little　scene　ensued；　which；　as　Miss　Bartlett　said　afterwards；

was　most　unpleasant。　The　horses　were　stopped；　the　lovers　were

ordered　to　disentangle　themselves；　the　boy　was　to　lose　his

pourboire；　the　girl　was　immediately　to　get　down。



〃She　is　my　sister；〃　said　he；　turning　round　on　them　with　piteous

eyes。



Mr。　Eager　took　the　trouble　to　tell　him　that　he　was　a　liar。



Phaethon　hung　down　his　head；　not　at　the　matter　of　the　accusation；

but　at　its　manner。　At　this　point　Mr。　Emerson；　whom　the　shock　of

stopping　had　awoke；　declared　that　the　lovers　must　on　no　account

be　separated；　and　patted　them　on　the　back　to　signify　his

approval。　And　Miss　Lavish；　though　unwilling　to　ally　him；　felt

bound　to　support　the　cause　of　Bohemianism。



〃Most　certainly　I　would　let　them　be；〃　she　cried。　〃But　I　dare　say

I　shall　receive　scant　support。　I　have　always　flown　in　the　face　of

the　conventions　all　my　life。　This　is　what　I　call　an　adventure。〃



〃We　must　not　submit；〃　said　Mr。　Eager。　〃I　knew　he　was　trying　it

on。　He　is　treating　us　as　if　we　were　a　party　of　Cook's　tourists。〃



〃Surely　no！〃　said　Miss　Lavish；　her　ardour　visibly　decreasing。



The　other　carriage　had　drawn　up　behind；　and　sensible　Mr。　Beebe

called　out　that　after　this　warning　the　couple　would　be　sure　to

behave　themselves　properly。



〃Leave　them　alone；〃　Mr。　Emerson　begged　the　chaplain；　of　whom　he

stood　in　no　awe。　〃Do　we　find　happiness　so　often　that　we　should

turn　it　off　the　box　when　it　happens　to　sit　there？　To　be　driven　by

lovers　A　king　might　envy　us；　and　if　we　part　them　it's　more

like　sacrilege　than　anything　I　know。〃



Here　the　voice　of　Miss　Bartlett　was　heard　saying　that　a　crowd

had　begun　to　collect。



Mr。　Eager；　who　suffered　from　an　over…fluent　tongue　rather　than　a

resolute　will；　was　determined　to　make　himself　heard。　He　addressed

the　driver　again。　Italian　in　the　mouth　of　Italians　is　a

deep…voiced　stream；　with　unexpected　cataracts　and　boulders　to

preserve　it　from　monotony。　In　Mr。　Eager's　mouth　it　resembled

nothing　so　much　as　an　acid　whistling　fountain　which　played　ever

higher　and　higher；　and　quicke