"
"Oh, good gracious, there isn't going to be another muddle!" Mrs.
Honeychurch exclaimed. "Do you notice, Lucy, I'm always right? I
said don't interfere with Cissie Villa. I'm always right. I'm
quite uneasy at being always right so often."
"It's only another muddle of Freddy's. Freddy doesn't even know
the name of the people he pretends have taken it instead."
"Yes, I do. I've got it. Emerson."
"What name?"
"Emerson. I'll bet you anything you like."
"What a weathercock Sir Harry is," said Lucy quietly. "I wish I
had never bothered over it at all."
Then she lay on her back and gazed at the cloudless sky. Mr.
Beebe, whose opinion of her rose daily, whispered to his niece
that THAT was the proper way to behave if any little thing went
wrong.
Meanwhile the name of the new tenants had diverted Mrs.
Honeychurch from the contemplation of her own abilities.
"Emerson, Freddy? Do you know what Emersons they are?"
"I don't know whether they're any Emersons," retorted Freddy, who
was democratic.
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