CHAPTER III

eNorthRoad,andthatowetheirsizetothetrafficofcoachingandpre-coachingdays.BeingnearLondon,ithadnotsharedintheruraldecay,anditslongHighStreethadbuddedoutrightandleftintoresidentialestates.ForaboutamileaseriesoftiledandslatedhousespassedbeforeMrs.Munt’sinattentiveeyes,aseriesbrokenatonepointbysixDanishtumulithatstoodshouldertoshoulderalongthehighroad,tombsofsoldiers.Beyondthesetumuli,habitationsthickened,andthetraincametoastandstillinatanglethatwasalmostatown. Thestation,likethescenery,likeHelen’sletters,struckanindeterminatenote.Intowhichcountrywillitlead,EnglandorSuburbia?Itwasnew,ithadislandplatformsandasubway,andthesuperficialcomfortexactedbybusinessmen.Butitheldhintsoflocallife,personalintercourse,asevenMrs.Muntwastodiscover. “Iwantahouse,”sheconfidedtotheticketboy.“ItsnameisHowardsLodge.Doyouknowwhereitis?” “Mr.Wilcox!”theboycalled. Ayoungmaninfrontofthemturnedaround. “She’swantingHowardsEnd.” Therewasnothingforitbuttogoforward,thoughMrs.Muntwastoomuchagitatedeventostareatthestranger.Butrememberingthatthereweretwobrothers,shehadthesensetosaytohim,“Excusemeasking,butareyoutheyoungerMr.Wilcoxortheelder?” “Theyounger.CanIdoanythingforyou?” “Oh,well”—shecontrolledherselfwithdifficulty.“Really.Areyou?I—”Shemovedawayfromtheticketboyandloweredhervoice.“IamMissSchlegel’saunt.Ioughttointroducemyself,oughtn’tI?MynameisMrs.Munt.” Shewasconsciousthatheraisedhiscapandsaidquitecoolly,“Oh,ratherMissSchlegelisstoppingwithus.Didyouwanttoseeher?” “Possibly.” “I’llcallyouacab.Nowaitamo—”Hethought.“Ourmotor’shere.I’llrunyouupinit.” “Thatisverykind.” “Notatall,ifyou’lljustwaittilltheybringoutaparcelfromtheoffice.Thisway.” “Mynieceisnotwithyoubyanychance?” “NoIcameoverwithmyfather.Hehasgoneonnorthinyourtrain.You’llseeMissSchlegelatlunch.You’recominguptolunch,Ihope?” “IshouldliketocomeUP,”saidMrs.Munt,notcommittingherselftonourishmentuntilshehadstudiedHelen’sloveralittlemore.Heseemedagentleman,buthadsorattledherroundthatherpowersofobservationwerenumbed.Sheglancedathimstealthily. Toafeminineeyetherewasnothingamissinthesharpdepressionsatthecornersofhismouth,orintheratherbox-likeconstructionofhisforehead.Hewasdark,clean-shaven,andseemedaccustomedtocommand. “Infrontorbehind?Whichdoyouprefer?Itmaybewindyinfront.” “InfrontifImaythenwecantalk.” “Butexcusemeonemoment—Ican’tthinkwhatthey’redoingwiththatparcel.”Hestrodeintothebooking-office,andcalledwithanewvoice:“Hi!hi,youthere!Areyougoingtokeepmewaitingallday?ParcelforWilcox,HowardsEnd.Justlooksharp!” Emerging,hesaidinquietertones:“Thisstation’sabominablyorganisedifIhadmyway,thewholelotof’emshouldgetthesack.MayIhelpyouin?” “Thisisverygoodofyou,”saidMrs.Munt,asshesettledherselfintoaluxuriouscavernofredleather,andsufferedherpersontobepaddedwithrugsandshawls.Shewasmorecivilthanshehadintended,butreallythisyoungmanwasverykind.Moreover,shewasalittleafraidofhimhisself-possessionwasextraordinary.“Verygoodindeed,”sherepeate