He
was not a coward and bore necessary pain as well as any man. But
he hated the physical violence of the young. How right it was!
Sure enough it ended in a cry.
"I wish the Miss Alans could see this," observed Mr. Beebe, just
as Lucy, who was nursing the injured Minnie, was in turn lifted
off her feet by her brother.
"Who are the Miss Alans?" Freddy panted.
"They have taken Cissie Villa."
"That wasn't the name--"
Here his foot slipped, and they all fell most agreeably on to the
grass. An interval elapses.
"Wasn't what name?" asked Lucy, with her brother's head in her
lap.
"Alan wasn't the name of the people Sir Harry's let to."
"Nonsense, Freddy! You know nothing about it."
"Nonsense yourself! I've this minute seen him. He said to me:
'Ahem! Honeychurch,'"--Freddy was an indifferent mimic--"'ahem!
ahem! I have at last procured really dee-sire-rebel tenants.' I
said, 'ooray, old boy!' and slapped him on the back."
"Exactly. The Miss Alans?"
"Rather not. More like Anderson.
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