"Cross it out, too," said Freddy.

Mrs. Honeychurch left it in.

"Then the whole thing runs: 'Dear Mrs. Vyse.--Cecil has just
asked my permission about it, and I should be delighted if Lucy
wishes it, and I have told Lucy so. But Lucy seems very
uncertain, and in these days young people must decide for
themselves. I know that Lucy likes your son, because she tells me
everything. But I do not know--'"

"Look out!" cried Freddy.

The curtains parted.

Cecil's first movement was one of irritation. He couldn't bear
the Honeychurch habit of sitting in the dark to save the
furniture. Instinctively he give the curtains a twitch, and sent
them swinging down their poles. Light entered. There was revealed
a terrace, such as is owned by many villas with trees each side
of it, and on it a little rustic seat, and two flower-beds. But
it was transfigured by the view beyond, for Windy Corner was
built on the range that overlooks the Sussex Weald. Lucy, who was
in the little seat, seemed on the edge of a green magic carpet
which hovered in the air above the tremulous world.

Cecil entered.

Appearing thus late in the story, Cecil must be at once