14 Room With A View - Guided Literature

In E.M. Forster's classic novel A Room with a View, the 'view' symbolises personal freedom and authentic living, while the 'room' represents the rigid social expectations of Edwardian society. This chapter marks the start of Part Two. The chapter features Lucy accepting Cecil's marriage proposal, Cecil's arrival at Windy Corner, and his snobbish views on society.

In this episode, Miss Bartlett comes to call.

Music by Jean-Miles Carter
All rights reserved. This audio file contains a hidden watermark. Individual use only. Copyright Neworld Books.

Transcript

Welcome to sleep stories with Steph your go-to podcast. That offers you a calm and relaxing transition. Into a great night's sleep. It is time to relax and fully let go. There is nothing you need to be doing now. And know where you need to go. Close your eyes. And feel yourself sink into the support beneath you. And let all the worries of the day go. Drift away. This is your time. And your space. Take a deep breath in through your nose. And let it out with a long sigh. That's it! There is nothing you need to be doing now. And know where you need to go. Happy listening. Chapter 14 How Lucy faced the external situation bravely. Of course Miss Bartlett accepted, And equally of course she felt sure she would prove a nuisance, And begged to be given inferior spare room, Something with no view. Anything. Her love to Lisey and equally of course George Emerson could come to tennis on the second week. Lucy faced the situation bravely, Though like most of us she only faced the situation that encompassed her. She never gazed inwards. At times strange images rose from the depths she put them down to nerves. When Cecil brought the Emersons to Summer Street, It had upset her nerves. Charlotte would burnish her fast foolishness, And this might upset her nerves. She was nervous at night. When she talked to George, They met again almost immediately at the rectory. His voice moved her deeply. And she was upset again. She wished to remain near him. How dreadful that she really wished to remain near him. Of course the wish was due to nerves which love to play such perverse tricks upon us. When she had suffered from things that came out of nothing and meant she didn't know what. Now Cecil had explained psychology to her one wet afternoon and all the troubles of youth in an unknown world. Could be dismissed. It is obvious, Therefore, For the reader to conclude she loves young Emerson. A reader in Lucy's place would not find it obvious, Though. Life is easy to chronicle, But bewildering to practice. And we welcome nerves or any other that will cloak our personal desire. She loved Cecil. And George made her nervous. Will the reader please explain to her the phrases should have been reversed? But the external situation. She would now have to face that bravely. The meeting at the rectory had passed off well enough. Standing between Mr. Beebe and Cecil, She'd made a few temperate allusions to Italy and George had replied. She was anxious to show she was not shy and glad that he did not seem shy either. A nice fellow, " said Mr Beeb afterwards. He will work off his crudities in time. I'd rather mistrust young men who slip into life gracefully. Lucy said. He seems in better spirits. He laughs more. Yes, Replied the clergyman. He is waking up. That was all. But as the week wore on, More of her defenses fell and Lucy entertained an image that had physical beauty. In spite of the clearest directions, Miss Bartlett contrived to bungle her arrival. She was due at the Southeastern Station at Dawking, With a Mrs Honeychurch drove to meet her. She arrived at the London Brighton station and had to hire a cab. No one was at home except Freddy and his friend who had to stop their tennis to entertain her and Cecil and Lucy turned up at four o'clock. These, With little mini B, Made a somewhat lugubrious sextet upon the upper long fatigue. I shall never forget myself, " said Miss Barclayt, Who kept on rising for her seat, And had to be begged by the United Company to remain. Our visitors never do such dreadful things, " said Lucy, While her brother in whose memory the boiled egg had grown unsubstantial. Exclaimed in irritable tones. Just what I've been trying to convince Cousin Charlotte of, Lucy. For the past half hour. I do not feel myself an ordinary visitor. Of Miss Bartlett. She looked at her frayed gloves. Alright, If you'd really rather, Five shillings and I'll give a bob to the driver. Miss Bartlett looked in her purse. Only sovereigns and pennies. Could anyone give her change? Freddy had half a quid and his friend had four half crowns. Miss Bartlett accepted their monies and said, But who am I to give this sovereign to? Let's leave it all till mother comes back, Suggested Lucy. No dear, Your mother might take quite a long drive now she's not hampered with me. We all have our little foibles, And mine's the prompt settling of accounts. Here, Freddy's friend Mr Floyd made the one remark of his that need be quoted. He offered to toss Freddy from his bark at Squid. A solution seemed in sight, And even Cecil, Who had been ostentatiously drinking his tea at the view, Felt the eternal attraction of chance and turned round. But this did not do either. "'Please, Please, ' said Miss Bartlett, "'I know I'm a sad spoilsport, But it would make me wretched. I should practically be robbing the one who lost. '" Freddie owes me 15 shillings, Interposed Cecil, So it will work out alright if you give the pound to me. 15 shillings? " said Miss Barker dubiously. Because don't you see? Freddy paid your cab. Give me the pound and we shall avoid this deplorable gang. Responding to his port, Figures became bewildered. She rendered up the sovereign amidst the suppressed gurgles of the other youths. For a moment Cecil was happy. He was playing at nonsense among his peers. Then he glanced at Lucy in whose face petty anxieties had marred the smiles. In January, He would rescue his Leonardo from this stupefying twirl. But I don't see that! " exclaimed Mini-B. Who had narrowly watched the inquisitious transaction. Because of the fifteen shillings and the five, They said solemnly. Fifteen shillings and five shillings make one pound, You see. But I don't see. . . They tried to stifle her with cake. No thank you, I'm done. I don't see why. . . Freddy don't poke me! Miss Honeychurch, Your brother's hurting me. Ow! What about Mr Floyd's ten shillings? I don't see and I never shall see why Miss Watsoname shouldn't pay that bob for the driver. I had forgotten the driver, Said Miss Barklet, Reddening. Thank you, Dear, For reminding me. A shilling was it? Can anyone give me change for half a crown? I'll get it, " said the young hostess, Rising with decision. Cecil, Give me that sovereign. No, Give me up that sovereign! I'll get change and we'll start the whole thing again from the beginning. Lucy, What a nuisance I am, Protested Miss Barklet and followed her across the lawn. Lucy tripped ahead, Simulating hilarity. When they were out of earshot, Miss Bartlett stopped her whales and said, Have you told him yet? No, I haven't, Replied Lucy. And then could have bitten her tongue for understanding so quickly what her cousin meant. Let me see, A sovereign's worth of silver. She escaped into the kitchen. Miss Barclay's sudden transitions were too uncanny. It sometimes seemed as if she planned every word or spoke or course to be spoken, As if all this worry about caps and change had been a ruse to surprise the soul. I haven't told Cecil or anyone, " Lucy remarked when they returned. I promise you I shouldn't. Now here is your money, All shillings except two half-crowns. Would you count it? You can settle your deck nicely now. Miss Bartlett was in the drawing room gazing at the photograph of St John ascending, Which had been framed. How dreadful, She murmured. How more than dreadful if Mr. Fye should come to hear of it from some other source. No, Charlotte, " said Lucy, Entering the battle. George Emerson is all right. And what other source is there? Miss Barclay continued. For instance, That driver. I saw him looking through the bushes at you. Remember, He had a violet between his teeth. Lucy shuddered. We shall get the silly affair on our nerves if we aren't careful. How could a Florentine cab driver ever get hold of Cecil? We must think of every possibility! Oh, It's alright. Perhaps old Mr. Emerson knows. In fact, He's quite certain to know. I don't care if he does. I was grateful to you for your letter, But even if the news does get around, I think I can trust Cecil to laugh at it. To contradict it. Know to laugh at it. But Lucy knew in her heart she could not trust Cecil, For he desired her untouched. Very well, Dear, You know best. Perhaps gentlemen are different to what they were when I was young. Ladies are certainly different. Now shut up! Lucy struck at her painfully. Kind anxious thing, What would you have me do? First you say don't tell, Then you say tell, Which is it to be quick? I'm no match for you in conversation, Dearest, " sighed Miss Bartlett. I blush when I think how I interfered at Florence, And you so well able to look after yourself, Dear. And so much cleverer in all ways than I am. You will never forgive me. Shall we go out then? We'll smash the china if we don't. The air now rang with the shrieks of Minnie, Who was being scalped with a teaspoon. Fine moment. We may not have this chance for a chat again. Have you seen the young one yet? Yes, I have. What happened? We met at the rectory. What line is he taking up? No line, Said Lucy. He talked about Italy like any other person. It really isn't right, Charlotte. What advantage would he get from being a cat? I do wish I could make you see it my way. He really won't be any nuisance at all. Once a cad, Always a cad. That is my poor opinion. Lucy paused. Cecil said one day, And I thought it so profound, There were two types of cats, The conscious and the subconscious. She paused again to be sure of doing justice to Cecil's profundity. Through the window she saw Cecil himself turning over the pages of a novel. It was a new one from Smith's Library. Her mother must have returned from the station. Once a cad, Always a cad, Droned Miss Bartlett. What I mean by subconscious is that Emerson lost his head. I fell into those violets and he was silly and surprised. I don't think we ought to blame him very much, Persisted Lucy. It makes such a difference when you see a person with beautiful things behind him unexpectedly. It really does. It makes an enormous difference. And he lost his head. He doesn't admire me or any of that nonsense one straw. Freddy rather likes him and he's asking him up here on Sunday so you can judge for yourself. He has improved. He doesn't always look as if he's going to burst into tears. He's a clerk at the General Manager's office at one of the big railways, Not a porter, And he runs down to his father weekends. Papa was to do with journalism but is rheumatic and has retired. Now for the garden. Lucy declared, Taking hold of her guest by the arm. Suppose we don't talk about this silly Italian business anymore. We want you to have a nice restful visit at Windy Corner with no worrying. Walking back, Lucy thought this rather a good speech. The reader may have detected an unfortunate slip in it. Whether Miss Bartlett detected the slip, One cannot say, For it is impossible to penetrate into the minds of elderly people. She might have spoken further. But they were interrupted by the entrance of her hostess. Explanations took place. And in the midst of them Lucy escaped. The images throbbing a little more vividly in her brain.