Chapter: Charles and Tibby met at Ducie Street, where the latter was staying.
Their interview was short and absurd. They had nothing in common but the
English language, and tried by its help to express what neither of them
understood. Charles saw in Helen the family foe. He had singled her out
as the most dangerous of the Schlegels, and, angry as he was, looked
forward to telling his wife how right he had been. His mind was made up
at once; the girl must be got out of the way before she disgraced them
farther. If occasion offered she might be married to a villain, or,
possibly, to a fool. But this was a concession to morality, it formed
no part of his main scheme. Honest and hearty was Charles's dislike, and
the past spread itself out very clearly before him; hatred is a skilful
compositor. As if they were heads in a note-book, he ran through all
the incidents of the Schlegels' campaign: the attempt to compromise his
brother, his mother's legacy, his father's marriage, the introduction
of the furniture, the unpacking of the same. He had not yet heard of the
request to sleep at Howards End; that was to be their master-stroke and
the opportunity for his. But he already felt that Howards End was the
objective, and, though he disliked the house, was determined to defend
it.

Tibby, on the other hand, had no opinions. He stood above the
conventions: his sister had a right to do what she thought right. It is
not difficult to stand above the conventions when we leave no hostages
among them; men can always be more unconventional than women, and a
bachelor of independent means need encounter no difficulties at all.
Unlike Charles, Tibby had money enough; his ancestors had earned it for
him, and if he shocked the people in one set of lodgings he had only to
move into another. His was the leisure without sympathy--an attitude as
fatal as the strenuous; a little cold culture may be raised on it, but
no art. His sisters had seen the family danger, and had never forgotten
to discount the gold islets that raised them from the sea. Tibby gave
all the praise to himself, and so despised the struggling and the
submerged.

Hence the absurdity of the interview; the gulf between them was economic
as well as spiritual. But several facts passed; Charles pressed for them
with an impertinence that the undergraduate could not withstand. On what
date had Helen gone abroad? To whom? (Charles was anxious to fasten the
scandal on Germany.) Then, changing his tactics, he said roughly: "I
suppose you realise that you are your sister's protector?"

"In what sense?"

"If a man played about with my sister, I'd send a bullet through him,
but perhaps you don't mind."

"I mind very much," protested Tibby.

"Who d'ye suspect, then? Speak out man. One always suspects some one."

"No one. I don't think so." Involuntarily he blushed. He had remembered
the scene in his Oxford rooms.

"You are hiding something," said Charles. As interviews go, he got the
best of this one. "When you saw her last, did she mention any one's
name? Yes or no!" he thundered, so that Tibby started.

"In my rooms she mentioned some friends, called the Basts."

"Who are the Basts?"

"People--friends of hers at Evie's wedding."

"I don't remember. But, by great Scott, I do! My aunt told me about some
rag-tag. Was she full of them when you saw her? Is there a man? Did she
speak of the man? Or--look here--have you had any dealings with him?"

Tibby was silent. Without intending it, he had betrayed his sister's
confidence; he was not enough interested in human life to see where
things will lead to. He had a strong regard for honesty, and his word,
once given, had always been kept up to now. He was deeply vexed, not
only for the harm he had done Helen, but for the flaw he had discovered
in his own equipment.

"I see--you are in his confidence. They met at your rooms. Oh, what a
family, what a family! God help the poor pater--s."

And Tibby found himself alone.

 Charles meets with Tibby at the house at Ducie Street. The two of them have nothing at all in common, and their conversation is a travesty. Charles is determined to get rid of Helen, who he sees as nothing but a liability. Tibby, however, has the luxury of wealth and freedom, and he thinks that Helen should be able to do whatever she perceives to be right. His life of leisure has made him unsympathetic to the struggles of others. Charles tries to get Tibby riled up about Helen's pregnancy, and tries to get him to admit the identity of Helen's mystery man. Tibby, menaced by Charles, mentions that Helen had brought up the Basts before - but he says nothing else. Charles takes this to be an admission of guilt, and assumes that Tibby aided and abetted in Helen's affair with Leonard; disgusted, he storms out.

