CHAPTER I

veneverhad.Meg,shallweeverlearntotalkless?Ineverfeltsoashamedofmyselfinmylife.Icouldn’tpointtoatimewhenmenhadbeenequal,noreventoatimewhenthewishtobeequalhadmadethemhappierinotherways.Icouldn’tsayaword.Ihadjustpickedupthenotionthatequalityisgoodfromsomebook—probablyfrompoetry,oryou.Anyhow,it’sbeenknockedintopieces,and,likeallpeoplewhoarereallystrong,Mr.Wilcoxdiditwithouthurtingme.Ontheotherhand,Ilaughatthemforcatchinghayfever.Welivelikefighting-cocks,andCharlestakesusouteverydayinthemotor—atombwithtreesinit,ahermit’shouse,awonderfulroadthatwasmadebytheKingsofMercia—tennis—acricketmatch—bridgeandatnightwesqueezeupinthislovelyhouse.Thewholeclan’sherenow—it’slikearabbitwarren.Evieisadear.TheywantmetostopoverSunday—Isupposeitwon’tmatterifIdo.Marvellousweatherandtheviewsmarvellous—viewswestwardtothehighground.Thankyouforyourletter.Burnthis. “Youraffectionate “HELEN.” “HowardsEnd, “Sunday. “Dearest,dearestMeg,—Idonotknowwhatyouwillsay:PaulandIareinlove—theyoungersonwhoonlycamehereWednesday.”