was not as pleasant as he had been.

"Do you go to much of this sort of thing?" he asked when they
were driving home.

"Oh, now and then," said Lucy, who had rather enjoyed herself.

"Is it typical of country society?"

"I suppose so. Mother, would it be?"

"Plenty of society," said Mrs. Honeychurch, who was trying to
remember the hang of one of the dresses.

Seeing that her thoughts were elsewhere, Cecil bent towards Lucy
and said:

"To me it seemed perfectly appalling, disastrous, portentous."

"I am so sorry that you were stranded."

"Not that, but the congratulations. It is so disgusting, the way
an engagement is regarded as public property--a kind of waste
place where every outsider may shoot his vulgar sentiment. All
those old women smirking!"

"One has to go through it, I suppose. They won't notice us so
much next time."

"But my point is that their whole attitude is wrong. An