"
"Exactly!" said Sir Harry excitedly. "That is exactly what I
fear, Mr. Vyse. It will attract the wrong type of people. The
train service has improved--a fatal improvement, to my mind. And
what are five miles from a station in these days of bicycles?"
"Rather a strenuous clerk it would be," said Lucy.
Cecil, who had his full share of mediaeval mischievousness,
replied that the physique of the lower middle classes was
improving at a most appalling rate. She saw that he was laughing
at their harmless neighbour, and roused herself to stop him.
"Sir Harry!" she exclaimed, "I have an idea. How would you like
spinsters?"
"My dear Lucy, it would be splendid. Do you know any such?"
"Yes; I met them abroad."
"Gentlewomen?" he asked tentatively.
"Yes, indeed, and at the present moment homeless. I heard from
them last week--Miss Teresa and Miss Catharine Alan. I'm really
not joking. They are quite the right people. Mr. Beebe knows
them, too. May I tell them to write to you?"
"Indeed you may!" he cried.
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