y in her little trouble. He repeated any
rubbish that came into his head.

"Murdered his wife?" said Mrs. Honeychurch. "Lucy, don't desert us--go
on playing bumble-puppy. Really, the Pension Bertolini must have been
the oddest place. That's the second murderer I've heard of as being
there. Whatever was Charlotte doing to stop? By-the-by, we really must
ask Charlotte here some time."

Mr. Beebe could recall no second murderer. He suggested that his hostess
was mistaken. At the hint of opposition she warmed. She was perfectly
sure that there had been a second tourist of whom the same story had
been told. The name escaped her. What was the name? Oh, what was the
name? She clasped her knees for the name. Something in Thackeray. She
struck her matronly forehead.

Lucy asked her brother whether Cecil was in.

"Oh, don't go!" he cried, and tried to catch her by the ankles.

"I must go," she said gravely. "Don't be silly. You always overdo it
when you play."

As she left them her mother's shout of "Harris!" shivered the tranquil
air, and reminded her that she had told a lie and had never put it
right. Such a senseless lie, too, yet it shattered her nerves and
made her connect these Emersons, friends of Cecil's, with a pair of
nondescript tourists. Hitherto truth had come to her naturally. She
saw that for the future she must be more vigilant, and be--absolutely
truthful? Well, at all events, she must not tell lies. She hurried up
the garden, still flushed with shame. A word from Cecil would soothe
her, she was sure.

"Cecil!"

"Hullo!" he called, and leant out of the smoking-room window. He
seemed in high spirits. "I was hoping you'd come. I heard you all
bear-gardening, but there's better fun up here. I, even I, have won a
great victory for the Comic Muse. George Meredith's right--the cause of
Comedy and the cause of Truth are really the same; and I, even I, have
found tenants for the distressful Cissie Villa. Don't be angry! Don't be
angry! You'll forgive me when you hear it all."

He looked very attractive when his face was bright, and he dispelled her
ridiculous forebodings at once.

"I have heard," she said. "Freddy has told us. Naughty Cecil! I suppose
I must forgive you. Just think of all the trouble I took for nothing!
Certainly the Miss Alans are a little tiresome, and I'd rather have nice
friends of yours. But you oughtn't to tease one so."

"Friends of mine?" he laughed. "But, Lucy, the whole joke is to