have asked him. Mr. Beebe had turned the conversation so
cleverly, and she hoped that the young man was not very much hurt
at her asking him

"The railway!" gasped Miss Lavish. "Oh, but I shall die! Of
course it was the railway!" She could not control her mirth. "He
is the image of a porter--on, on the South-Eastern."

"Eleanor, be quiet," plucking at her vivacious companion. "Hush!
They'll hear--the Emersons--"

"I can't stop. Let me go my wicked way. A porter--"

"Eleanor!"

"I'm sure it's all right," put in Lucy. "The Emersons won't hear,
and they wouldn't mind if they did."

Miss Lavish did not seem pleased at this.

"Miss Honeychurch listening!" she said rather crossly. "Pouf!
Wouf! You naughty girl! Go away!"

"Oh, Lucy, you ought to be with Mr. Eager, I'm sure."

"I can't find them now, and I don't want to either."

"Mr. Eager will be offended. It is your party."

"Please, I'd rather stop here with you."