ucy Morgan. It was a summer fashion-picture: the three ladies
charmingly dressed, delicate parasols aloft; the lines of the victoria
graceful as those of a violin; the trim pair of bays in glistening
harness picked out with silver, and the serious black driver whom
Isabel, being an Amberson, dared even in that town to put into a black
livery coat, boots, white breeches, and cockaded hat. They jingled
smartly away, and, seeing George standing on the Major's lawn, Lucy
waved, and Isabel threw him a kiss.

But George shuddered, pretending not to see them, and stooped as if
searching for something lost in the grass, protracting that posture
until the victoria was out of hearing. And ten minutes later, George
Amberson, somewhat in the semblance of an angry person plunging out of
the Mansion, found a pale nephew waiting to accost him.

"I haven't time to talk, Georgie."

"Yes, you have. You'd better!"

"What's the matter, then?"

His namesake drew him away from the vicinity of the house. "I want to
tell you something I just heard Aunt Amelia say, in there."

"I don't want to hear it," said Amberson. "I've been hearing entirely
too much of what 'Aunt Amelia, says, lately."

"She says my mother's on your side about this division of the property
because you're Eugene Morgan's best friend."

"What in the name of heaven has that got to do with your mother's being
on my side?"

"She said--" George paused to swallow. "She said--" He faltered.

"You look sick," said his uncle; and laughed shortly. "If it's because
of anything Amelia's been saying, I don't blame you! What else did she
say?"

George swallowed again, as with nausea, but under his uncle's
encouragement he was able to be explicit. "She said my mother wanted you
to be friendly to her about Eugene Morgan. She said my mother had been
using Aunt Fanny as a chaperone."

Amberson emitted a laugh of disgust. "It's wonderful what tommy-rot a
woman in a state of spite can think of! I suppose you don't doubt that
Amelia Amberson created this specimen of tommy-rot herself?"

"I know she did."

"Then what's the matter?"

"She said--" George faltered again. "She said--she implied people
were--were talking about it."

"Of all the damn nonsense!" his uncle exclaimed. George looked at him
haggardly. "You're sure they're not?"

"Rubbish! Your mother's on my side about this division because she knows
Sydney's a pig and always has been a pig, and so has his spiteful wi