e, for you are so fond
of her that you'd give her anything of yours that she fancies, wouldn't
you? and I'd raise no objection. I could understand it if it was her old
home, because a home, or a house," he changed the word, designedly; he
had thought of a telling point--"because a house in which one has once
lived becomes in a sort of way sacred, I don't know why. Associations
and so on. Now Helen has no associations with Howards End, though I
and Charles and Evie have. I do not see why she wants to stay the night
there. She will only catch cold."

"Leave it that you don't see," cried Margaret. "Call it fancy. But
realise that fancy is a scientific fact. Helen is fanciful, and wants
to."

Then he surprised her--a rare occurrence. He shot an unexpected bolt.
"If she wants to sleep one night she may want to sleep two. We shall
never get her out of the house, perhaps."

"Well?" said Margaret, with the precipice in sight. "And suppose we
don't get her out of the house? Would it matter? She would do no one any
harm."

Again the irritated gesture.

"No, Henry," she panted, receding. "I didn't mean that. We will
only trouble Howards End for this one night. I take her to London
to-morrow--"

"Do you intend to sleep in a damp house, too?"

"She cannot be left alone."

"That's quite impossible! Madness. You must be here to meet Charles."

"I have already told you that your message to Charles was unnecessary,
and I have no desire to meet him."

"Margaret--my Margaret."

"What has this business to do with Charles? If it concerns me little, it
concerns you less, and Charles not at all."

"As the future owner of Howards End," said Mr. Wilcox arching his
fingers, "I should say that it did concern Charles."

"In what way? Will Helen's condition depreciate the property?"

"My dear, you are forgetting yourself."

"I think you yourself recommended plain speaking."

They looked at each other in amazement. The precipice was at their feet
now.

"Helen commands my sympathy," said Henry. "As your husband, I shall do
all for her that I can, and I have no doubt that she will prove more
sinned against than sinning. But I cannot treat her as if nothing has
happened. I should be false to my position in society if I did."

She controlled herself for the last time. "No, let us go back to Helen's
request," she said. "It is unreasonable, but the request of an unhappy
girl. Tomorrow she will go to Germany, and trouble society no