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God。



He　only　stopped　once；　to　pick　her　some　great　blue　violets。　She

thanked　him　with　real　pleasure。　In　the　company　of　this　common　man

the　world　was　beautiful　and　direct。　For　the　first　time　she　felt

the　influence　of　Spring。　His　arm　swept　the　horizon　gracefully；

violets；　like　other　things；　existed　in　great　profusion　there；

would　she　like　to　see　them？〃



〃Ma　buoni　uomini。〃



He　bowed。　Certainly。　Good　men　first；　violets　afterwards。　They

proceeded　briskly　through　the　undergrowth；　which　became　thicker

and　thicker。　They　were　nearing　the　edge　of　the　promontory；　and

the　view　was　stealing　round　them；　but　the　brown　network　of　the

bushes　shattered　it　into　countless　pieces。　He　was　occupied　in　his

cigar；　and　in　holding　back　the　pliant　boughs。　She　was　rejoicing

in　her　escape　from　dullness。　Not　a　step；　not　a　twig；　was

unimportant　to　her。



〃What　is　that？〃



There　was　a　voice　in　the　wood；　in　the　distance　behind　them。　The

voice　of　Mr。　Eager？　He　shrugged　his　shoulders。　An　Italian's

ignorance　is　sometimes　more　remarkable　than　his　knowledge。　She

could　not　make　him　understand　that　perhaps　they　had　missed　the

clergymen。　The　view　was　forming　at　last；　she　could　discern　the

river；　the　golden　plain；　other　hills。



〃Eccolo！〃　he　exclaimed。



At　the　same　moment　the　ground　gave　way；　and　with　a　cry　she　fell

out　of　the　wood。　Light　and　beauty　enveloped　her。　She　had　fallen

on　to　a　little　open　terrace；　which　was　covered　with　violets

from　end　to　end。



〃Courage！〃　cried　her　companion；　now　standing　some　six　feet　above。

〃Courage　and　love。〃



She　did　not　answer。　From　her　feet　the　ground　sloped　sharply　into

view；　and　violets　ran　down　in　rivulets　and　streams　and　cataracts；

irrigating　the　hillside　with　blue；　eddying　round　the　tree　stems

collecting　into　pools　in　the　hollows；　covering　the　grass　with

spots　of　azure　foam。　But　never　again　were　they　in　such　profusion；

this　terrace　was　the　well…head；　the　primal　source　whence　beauty

gushed　out　to　water　the　earth。



Standing　at　its　brink；　like　a　swimmer　who　prepares；　was　the　good

man。　But　he　was　not　the　good　man　that　she　had　expected；　and　he

was　alone。



George　had　turned　at　the　sound　of　her　arrival。　For　a　moment　he

contemplated　her；　as　one　who　had　fallen　out　of　heaven。　He　saw

radiant　joy　in　her　face；　he　saw　the　flowers　beat　against　her

dress　in　blue　waves。　The　bushes　above　them　closed。　He　stepped

quickly　forward　and　kissed　her。



Before　she　could　speak；　almost　before　she　could　feel；　a　voice

called；　〃Lucy！　Lucy！　Lucy！〃　The　silence　of　life　had　been　broken

by　Miss　Bartlett　who　stood　brown　against　the　view。







Chapter　VII：　They　Return



Some　complicated　game　had　been　playing　up　and　down　the　hillside

all　the　afternoon。　What　it　was　and　exactly　how　the　players

had　sided；　Lucy　was　slow　to　discover。　Mr。　Eager　had　met　them　with

a　questioning　eye。　Charlotte　had　repulsed　him　with　much　small

talk。　Mr。　Emerson；　seeking　his　son；　was　told　whereabouts　to　find

him。　Mr。　Beebe；　who　wore　the　heated　aspect　of　a　neutral；　was

bidden　to　collect　the　factions　for　the　return　home。　There　was　a

general　sense　of　groping　and　bewilderment。　Pan　had　been　amongst

themnot　the　great　god　Pan；　who　has　been　buried　these　two

thousand　years；　but　the　little　god　Pan；　who　presides　over　social

contretemps　and　unsuccessful　picnics。　Mr。　Beebe　had　lost　every

one；　and　had　consumed　in　solitude　the　tea…basket　which　he　had

brought　up　as　a　pleasant　surprise。　Miss　Lavish　had　lost　Miss

Bartlett。　Lucy　had　lost　Mr。　Eager。　Mr。　Emerson　had　lost　George。

Miss　Bartlett　had　lost　a　mackintosh　square。　Phaethon　had　lost　the

game。



That　last　fact　was　undeniable。　He　climbed　on　to　the　box

shivering；　with　his　collar　up；　prophesying　the　swift　approach　of

bad　weather。　〃Let　us　go　immediately；〃　he　told　them。　〃The

signorino　will　walk。〃



〃All　the　way？　He　will　be　hours；〃　said　Mr。　Beebe。



〃Apparently。　I　told　him　it　was　unwise。〃　He　would　look　no　one　in

the　face；　perhaps　defeat　was　particularly　mortifying　for　him。　He

alone　had　played　skilfully；　using　the　whole　of　his　instinct；

while　the　others　had　used　scraps　of　their　intelligence。　He　alone

had　divined　what　things　were；　and　what　he　wished　them　to　be。　He

alone　had　interpreted　the　message　that　Lucy　had　received　five

days　before　from　the　lips　of　a　dying　man。　Persephone；　who　spends

half　her　life　in　the　graveshe　could　interpret　it　also。　Not　so

these　English。　They　gain　knowledge　slowly；　and　perhaps　too　late。



The　thoughts　of　a　cab…driver；　however　just；　seldom　affect　the

lives　of　his　employers。　He　was　the　most　competent　of　Miss

Bartlett's　opponents；　but　infinitely　the　least　dangerous。　Once

back　in　the　town；　he　and　his　insight　and　his　knowledge　would

trouble　English　ladies　no　more。　Of　course；　it　was　most

unpleasant；　she　had　seen　his　black　head　in　the　bushes；　he　might

make　a　tavern　story　out　of　it。　But　after　all；　what　have　we　to　do

with　taverns？　Real　menace　belongs　to　the　drawing…room。　It　was　of

drawing…room　people　that　Miss　Bartlett　thought　as　she　journeyed

downwards　towards　the　fading　sun。　Lucy　sat　beside　her；　Mr。　Eager

sat　opposite；　trying　to　catch　her　eye；　he　was　vaguely　suspicious。

They　spoke　of　Alessio　Baldovinetti。



Rain　and　darkness　came　on　together。　The　two　ladies　huddled

together　under　an　inadequate　parasol。　There　was　a　lightning

flash；　and　Miss　Lavish　who　was　nervous；　screamed　from　the

carriage　in　front。　At　the　next　flash；　Lucy　screamed　also。　Mr。

Eager　addressed　her　professionally：



〃Courage；　Miss　Honeychurch；　courage　and　faith。　If　I　might　say　so；

there　is　something　almost　blasphemous　in　this　horror　of　the

elements。　Are　we　seriously　to　suppose　that　all　these　clouds；　all

this　immense　electrical　display；　is　simply　called　into　existence

to　extinguish　you　or　me？〃



〃Noof　course〃



〃Even　from　the　scientific　standpoint　the　chances　against　our

being　struck　are　enormous。　The　steel　knives；　the　only　articles

which　might　attract　the　current；　are　in　the　other　carriage。　And；

in　any　case；　we　are　infinitely　safer　than　if　we　were　walking。

Couragecourage　and　faith。〃



Under　the　rug；　Lucy　felt　the　kindly　pressure　of　her　cousin's

hand。　At　times　our　need　for　a　sympathetic　gesture　is　so　great

that　we　care　not　what　exactly　it　signifies　or　how　much　we　may

have　to　pay　for　it　afterwards。　Miss　Bartlett；　by　this　timely

exercise　of　her　muscles；　gained　more　than　she　would　have　got　in

hours　of　preaching　or　cross　examination。



She　renewed　it　when　the　two　carriages　stopped；　half　into

Florence。



〃Mr。　Eager！〃　called　Mr。　Beebe。　〃We　want　your　assistance。　Will　you

interpret　for　us？〃



〃George！〃　cried　Mr。　Emerson。　〃Ask　your　driver　which　way　George

went。　The　boy　may　lose　his　way。　He　may　be　killed。〃



〃Go；　Mr。　Eager；〃　said　Miss　Bartlett。　don't　ask　our　driver；　our

driver　is　no　help。　Go　and　support　poor　Mr。　Beebe；　he　is　nearly

demented。〃



〃He　may　be　killed！〃　cried　the　old　man。　〃He　may　be　killed！〃



〃Typical　behaviour；〃　said　the　chaplain；　as　he　quitted　the

carriage。　〃In　the　presence　of　reality　that　kind　of　person

invariably　breaks　down。〃



〃What　does　he　know？〃　whispered　Lucy　as　soon　as　they　were　alone。

〃Charlotte；　how　much　does　Mr。　Eager　know？〃



〃Nothing；　dearest；　he　knows　nothing。　But〃　she　pointed　at　the

driver…〃HE　knows　everything。　Dearest；　had　we　better？　Shall　I？〃

She　took　out　her　purse。　〃It　is　dreadful　to　be　entangled　with

low…class　people。　He　saw　it　all。〃　Tapping　Phaethon's　back　with　her

guide…book；　she　said；　〃Silenzio！〃　and　offered　him　a　franc。



〃Va　bene；〃　he　replied；　and　accepted　it。　As　well　this　ending　to

his　day　as　any。　But　Lucy；　a　mortal　maid；　was　disappointed　in　him。



There　was　an　explosion　up　the　road。　The　storm　had　struck　the

overhead　wire　of　the　tramline；　and　one　of　the　great　supports　had

fallen。　If　they　had　not　stopped　perhaps　they　might　have　been

hurt。　They　chose　to　regard　it　as　a　miraculous　preservation；　and

the　floods　of　love　and　sincerity；　which　fructify　every　hour　of

life；　burst　forth　in　tumult。　They　descended　from　the　carriages；

they　embraced　each　other。　It　was　as　joyful　to　be　forgiven　past

unworthinesses　as　to　forgive　them。　For　a　moment　they　realized

vast　possibilities　of　good。



The　older　people　recovered　quickly。　In　the　very　height　of　their

emotion　they　knew　it　to　be　unmanly　or　unladylike。　Miss　Lavish

calculated　that；　even　if　they　had　continued；　they　would　not　have

been　caught　in　the　accident。　Mr。　Eager　mumbled　a　temperate

prayer。　But　the　drivers；　through　miles　of　dark　squalid　road；

poured　out　their　souls　to　the　dryads　and　the　saints；　and　Lucy

poured　out　hers　to　her　cousin。



〃Charlotte；　dear　Charlotte；　kiss　me。　Kiss　me　again。　Only　you　can

understand　me。　You　warned　me　to　be　careful。　And　II　thought　I

was　developing。〃



〃Do　not　cry；　dearest。　Take　your　time。〃



〃I　have　been　obstinate　and　sillyworse　than　you　know；　far　worse。

Once　by　the　riverOh；　but　he　isn't　killedhe　wouldn't　be

killed；　would　he？〃



The　thought　disturbed　her　rep