101:001,01['  ]| Under certain circumstances there are few hours in$4$
101:001,02['  ]| life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to$4$ the 
101:001,03['  ]| ceremony known as afternoon tea.  There are circumstances   
101:001,04['  ]| in$4$ which$6#1$, whether you partake of the tea or
101:001,05['  ]| not ~~ some people of course never do, ~~ the situation 
101:001,06['  ]| is in$4$ itself delightful.  Those that$6#1$ I have in$4$ mind 
101:001,07['  ]| in$4$ beginning to$9$ unfold this simple history offered an
101:001,08['  ]| admirable setting to$4$ an innocent pastime.  The implements
101:001,09['  ]| of the little feast had been disposed upon$4$ 
101:001,10['  ]| the lawn of an old English country-house, in$4$ what I
101:001,11['  ]| should call the perfect middle of a splendid summer
101:001,12['  ]| afternoon. Part of the afternoon had waned, but 
101:001,13['  ]| much of it was left, and what was left was of the finest
101:001,14['  ]| and rarest quality.  Real dusk would not arrive for$4$
101:001,15['  ]| many hours; but the flood of summer light had begun 
101:001,16['  ]| to$9$ ebb, the air had grown mellow, the shadows
101:001,17['  ]| were long upon$4$ the smooth, dense turf.  They lengthened
101:001,18['  ]| slowly, however, and the scene expressed that$6#2$
101:001,19['  ]| sense of leisure still to$9$ come which$6#1$ is perhaps the chief
101:001,20['  ]| source of one's enjoyment of such a scene at such an
101:001,21['  ]| hour.  From five o'clock to$4$ eight is on$4$ certain occasions
101:001,22['  ]| a little eternity; but on$4$ such an occasion as this the
101:001,23['  ]| interval could be only an eternity of pleasure.  The
101:001,24['  ]| persons concerned in$4$ it were taking their pleasure
101:001,25['  ]| quietly, and they were not of the sex which$6#1$ is supposed 
101:002,01['  ]| to$9$ furnish the regular votaries of the ceremony
101:002,02['  ]| I have mentioned.  The shadows on$4$ the perfect lawn
101:002,03['  ]| were straight and angular; they were the shadows
101:002,04['  ]| of an old man sitting in$4$ a deep wicker-chair near the
101:002,05['  ]| low table on$4$ which$6#1$ the tea had been served, and of
101:002,06['  ]| two younger men strolling to$8$ and fro, in$4$ desultory
101:002,07['  ]| talk, in$4$ front of him.  The old man had his cup in$4$ his
101:002,08['  ]| hand; it was an unusually large cup, of a different
101:002,09['  ]| pattern from the rest of the set and painted in$4$ brilliant
101:002,10['  ]| colours.  He disposed of its contents with much circumspection,
101:002,11['  ]| holding it for$4$ a long time close to$4$ his
101:002,12['  ]| chin, with his face turned to$4$ the house.  His companions 
101:002,13['  ]| had either finished their tea or were indifferent
101:002,14['  ]| to$4$ their privilege; they smoked cigarettes as they
101:002,15['  ]| continued to$9$ stroll.  One of them, from time to$4$ time,
101:002,16['  ]| as he passed, looked with a certain attention at the 
101:002,17['  ]| elder man, who$6#1$, unconscious of observation, rested
101:002,18['  ]| his eyes upon$4$ the rich red front of his dwelling.  The
101:002,19['  ]| house that$6#1$ rose beyond the lawn was a structure to$9$
101:002,20['  ]| repay such consideration and was the most characteristic
101:002,21['  ]| object in$4$ the peculiarly English picture I have
101:002,22['  ]| attempted to$9$ sketch.
101:002,23['  ]| It stood upon$4$ a low hill, above the river ~~ the
101:002,24['  ]| river being the Thames at some forty miles from London. 
101:002,25['  ]| A long gabled front of red brick, with the complexion 
101:002,26['  ]| of which$6#1$ time and the weather had played all
101:002,27['  ]| sorts of pictorial tricks, only, however, to$9$ improve and
101:002,28['  ]| refine it, presented to$4$ the lawn its patches of ivy, its
101:002,29['  ]| clustered chimneys, its windows smothered in$4$ creepers.
101:002,30['  ]| The house had a name and a history; the old gentleman
101:002,31['  ]| taking his tea would have been delighted to$9$ 
101:002,32['  ]| tell you these things: how it had been built under 
101:003,01['  ]| Edward*the*Sixth, had offered a night's hospitality
101:003,02['  ]| to$4$ the great Elizabeth (whose august person had extended 
101:003,03['  ]| itself upon$4$ a huge, magnificent and terribly
101:003,04['  ]| angular bed which$6#1$ still formed the principal honour
101:003,05['  ]| of the sleeping apartments), had been a good deal    
101:003,06['  ]| bruised and defaced in$4$ Cromwell's wars, and then,
101:003,07['  ]| under the Restoration, repaired and much enlarged;
101:003,08['  ]| and how, finally, after having been remodelled and
101:003,09['  ]| disfigured in$4$ the eighteenth century, it had passed
101:003,10['  ]| into the careful keeping of a shrewd American banker,
101:003,11['  ]| who$6#1$ had bought it originally because (owing to$4$ circumstances
101:003,12['  ]| too complicated to$9$ set forth) it was offered
101:003,13['  ]| at a great bargain: bought it with much grumbling 
101:003,14['  ]| at its ugliness, its antiquity, its incommodity,
101:003,15['  ]| and who$6#1$ now, at the end of twenty years, had become
101:003,16['  ]| conscious of a real aesthetic passion for$4$ it, so$3$ that$3$ he
101:003,17['  ]| knew all its points and would tell you just where to$9$
101:003,18['  ]| stand to$9$ see them in$4$ combination and just the hour
101:003,19['  ]| when the shadows of its various protuberances ~~ 
101:003,20['  ]| which$6#1$ fell so$5#1$ softly upon$4$ the warm, weary brickwork 
101:003,21['  ]| ~~ were of the right measure.  Besides this, as I have
101:003,22['  ]| said, he could have counted off most of the successive
101:003,23['  ]| owners and occupants, several of whom were known 
101:003,24['  ]| to$4$ general fame; doing so$5#2$, however, with an undemonstrative 
101:003,25['  ]| conviction that$3$ the latest phase of its
101:003,26['  ]| destiny was not the least honourable.  The front of
101:003,27['  ]| the house overlooking that$6#2$ portion of the lawn with 
101:003,28['  ]| which$6#1$ we are concerned was not the entrance-front;
101:003,29['  ]| this was in$4$ quite another quarter.  Privacy here reigned
101:003,30['  ]| supreme, and the wide carpet of turf that$6#1$ covered 
101:003,31['  ]| the level hill-top seemed but the extension of a luxurious
101:003,32['  ]| interior.  The great still oaks and beeches flung  
101:004,01['  ]| down a shade as dense as that$6#2$ of velvet curtains; and
101:004,02['  ]| the place was furnished, like$4$ a room, with cushioned
101:004,03['  ]| seats, with rich-coloured rugs, with the books and
101:004,04['  ]| papers that$6#1$ lay upon$4$ the grass.  The river was at
101:004,05['  ]| some distance; where the ground began to$9$ slope the 
101:004,06['  ]| lawn, properly speaking, ceased.  But it was none 
101:004,07['  ]| the less a charming walk down to$4$ the water.
101:004,08['  ]| The old gentleman at the tea-table, who$6#1$ had come 
101:004,09['  ]| from America thirty years before, had brought with
101:004,10['  ]| him, at the top of his baggage, his American physiognomy; 
101:004,11['  ]| and he had not only brought it with him,
101:004,12['  ]| but he had kept it in$4$ the best order, so$3$ that$3$, if necessary,
101:004,13['  ]| he might have taken it back to$4$ his own country
101:004,14['  ]| with perfect confidence.  At present, obviously,
101:004,15['  ]| nevertheless, he was not likely to$9$ displace himself;
101:004,16['  ]| his journeys were over and he was taking the rest
101:004,17['  ]| that$6#1$ precedes the great rest.  He had a narrow, clean-shaven
101:004,18['  ]| face, with features evenly distributed and an
101:004,19['  ]| expression of placid acuteness.  It was evidently a face
101:004,20['  ]| in$4$ which$6#1$ the range of representation was not large,
101:004,21['  ]| so$3$ that$3$ the air of contented shrewdness was all the 
101:004,22['  ]| more of a merit.  It seemed to$9$ tell that$3$ he had been 
101:004,23['  ]| successful in$4$ life, yet it seemed to$9$ tell also that$3$ his
101:004,24['  ]| success had not been exclusive and invidious, but
101:004,25['  ]| had had much of the inoffensiveness of failure.  He
101:004,26['  ]| had certainly had a great experience of men, but
101:004,27['  ]| there was an almost rustic simplicity in$4$ the faint smile
101:004,28['  ]| that$6#1$ played upon$4$ his lean, spacious cheek and lighted
101:004,29['  ]| up$5$ his humorous eye as he at last slowly and carefully
101:004,30['  ]| deposited his big tea-cup upon$4$ the table.  He was
101:004,31['  ]| neatly dressed, in$4$ well-brushed black; but a shawl
101:004,32['  ]| was folded upon$4$ his knees, and his feet were encased
101:005,01['  ]| in$4$ thick, embroidered slippers.  A beautiful collie
101:005,02['  ]| dog lay upon$4$ the grass near his chair, watching the
101:005,03['  ]| master's face almost as tenderly as the master took
101:005,04['  ]| in$5$ the still more magisterial physiognomy of the 
101:005,05['  ]| house; and a little bristling, bustling terrier bestowed
101:005,06['  ]| a desultory attendance upon$4$ the other gentlemen.
101:005,07['  ]| One of these was a remarkably well-made man of 
101:005,08['  ]| five-and-thirty, with a face as English as that$6#2$ of the
101:005,09['  ]| old gentleman I have just sketched was something
101:005,10['  ]| else; a noticeably handsome face, fresh-coloured, 
101:005,11['  ]| fair and frank, with firm, straight features, a lively
101:005,12['  ]| grey eye and the rich adornment of a chestnut beard.
101:005,13['  ]| This person had a certain fortunate, brilliant exceptional 
101:005,14['  ]| look ~~ the air of a happy temperament fertilised 
101:005,15['  ]| by$4$ a high civilisation ~~ which$6#1$ would have 
101:005,16['  ]| made almost any observer envy him at a venture.
101:005,17['  ]| He was booted and spurred, as if he had dismounted
101:005,18['  ]| from a long ride; he wore a white hat, which$6#1$ looked 
101:005,19['  ]| too large for$4$ him; he held his two hands behind him,
101:005,20['  ]| and in$4$ one of them ~~ a large, white, well-shaped
101:005,21['  ]| fist ~~ was crumpled a pair of soiled dog-skin gloves.
101:005,22['  ]| His companion, measuring the length of the lawn
101:005,23['  ]| beside him, was a person of quite a different pattern,
101:005,24['  ]| who$6#1$, although he might have excited grave curiosity,
101:005,25['  ]| would not, like$4$ the other, have provoked you to$9$ wish
101:005,26['  ]| yourself, almost blindly, in$4$ his place.  Tall, lean,
101:005,27['  ]| loosely and feebly put together, he had an ugly,
101:005,28['  ]| sickly, witty, charming face, furnished, but by$4$ no$2$
101:005,29['  ]| means decorated, with a straggling moustache and
101:005,30['  ]| whisker.  He looked clever and ill ~~ a combination
101:005,31['  ]| by$4$ no$2$ means felicitous; and he wore a brown velvet
101:005,32['  ]| jacket.  He carried his hands in$4$ his pockets, and there 
101:006,01['  ]| was something in$4$ the way he did it that$6#1$ showed the
101:006,02['  ]| habit was inveterate.  His gait had a shambling, wandering
101:006,03['  ]| quality; he was not very firm on$4$ his legs.  As
101:006,04['  ]| I have said, whenever he passed the old man in$4$ the 
101:006,05['  ]| chair he rested his eyes upon$4$ him; and at this moment, 
101:006,06['  ]| with their faces brought into relation, you
101:006,07['  ]| would easily have seen they were father and son. 
101:006,08['  ]| The father caught his son's eye at last and gave him
101:006,09['  ]| a mild, responsive smile.
101:006,10[F  ]| "I am getting on$5$ very well," 
101:006,10['  ]| he said.
101:006,11[B  ]| "Have you drunk your tea?" 
101:006,11['  ]| asked the son.
101:006,12[F  ]| "Yes, and enjoyed it."
101:006,13[B  ]| "Shall I give you some more?"
101:006,14['  ]| The old man considered, placidly.  
101:006,14[F  ]| "Well, I guess
101:006,15[F  ]| I will$1$ wait and see."  
101:006,15['  ]| He had, in$4$ speaking, the American
101:006,16['  ]| tone.
101:006,17[B  ]| "Are you cold?" 
101:006,17['  ]| the son enquired.
101:006,18['  ]| The father slowly rubbed his legs.  
101:006,18[F  ]| "Well, I do not 
101:006,19[F  ]| know.  I can not tell till I feel."
101:006,20[B  ]| "Perhaps some*one might feel for$4$ you," 
101:006,20['  ]| said the
101:006,21['  ]| younger man, laughing.
101:006,22[F  ]| "Oh, I hope some*one will$1$ always feel for$4$ me!
101:006,23[F  ]| Do not you feel for$4$ me, Lord*Warburton?"
101:006,24[D  ]| "Oh yes, immensely," 
101:006,24['  ]| said the gentleman addressed 
101:006,25['  ]| as Lord*Warburton, promptly.  
101:006,25[D  ]| "I am bound
101:006,26[D  ]| to$9$ say you look wonderfully comfortable."
101:006,27[F  ]| "Well, I suppose I am, in$4$ most respects."  
101:006,27['  ]| And the
101:006,28['  ]| old man looked down at his green shawl and smoothed
101:006,29['  ]| it over his knees.  
101:006,29[F  ]| "The fact is I have been comfortable
101:006,30[F  ]| so$5#1$ many years that$3$ I suppose I have got so$5#1$ used 
101:006,31[F  ]| to$4$ it I do not know it."
101:006,32[D  ]| "Yes, that$6#2$ is the bore of comfort," 
101:006,32['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.
101:007,01[D  ]| "We only know when we are uncomfortable."
101:007,02[D  ]|
101:007,03[B  ]| "It strikes me we are rather particular," 
101:007,03['  ]| his companion
101:007,04['  ]| remarked.
101:007,05[D  ]| "Oh yes, there is no$2$ doubt we are particular," 
101:007,05['  ]| Lord*Warburton
101:007,06['  ]| murmured.  And then the three men remained
101:007,07['  ]| silent a while; the two younger ones standing
101:007,08['  ]| looking down at the other, who$6#1$ presently asked for$4$
101:007,09['  ]| more tea.  
101:007,09[D  ]| "I should think you would be very unhappy
101:007,10[D  ]| with that$6#2$ shawl," 
101:007,10['  ]| Lord*Warburton resumed while
101:007,11['  ]| his companion filled the old man's cup again.
101:007,12[B  ]| "Oh no$7$, he must have the shawl!" 
101:007,12['  ]| cried the gentleman
101:007,13['  ]| in$4$ the velvet coat.  
101:007,13[B  ]| "Do not put such ideas as
101:007,14[B  ]| that$6#2$ into his head."
101:007,15[F  ]| "It belongs to$4$ my wife," 
101:007,15['  ]| said the old man simply.
101:007,16[D  ]| "Oh, if it is for$4$ sentimental reasons ~"  
101:007,16['  ]| And Lord*Warburton
101:007,17['  ]| made a gesture of apology.
101:007,18[F  ]| "I suppose I must give it to$4$ her when she comes,"
101:007,19['  ]| the old man went on$5$.
101:007,20[B  ]| "You will$1$ please to$9$ do nothing of the kind.  You will$1$
101:007,21[B  ]| keep it to$9$ cover your poor old legs."
101:007,22[F  ]| "Well, you must not abuse my legs,"
101:007,22['  ]| said the old
101:007,23['  ]| man.  
101:007,23[F  ]| "I guess they are as good as yours."
101:007,24[B  ]| "Oh, you are perfectly free to$9$ abuse mine," 
101:007,24['  ]| his son
101:007,25['  ]| replied, giving him his tea.
101:007,26[F  ]| "Well, we are two lame ducks; I do not think there is
101:007,27[F  ]| much difference."
101:007,28[B  ]| "I am much obliged to$4$ you for$4$ calling me a duck.
101:007,29[B  ]| How is your tea?"
101:007,30[F  ]| "Well, it is rather hot."
101:007,31[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is intended to$9$ be a merit."
101:007,32[F  ]| "Ah, there is a great deal of merit," 
101:007,32['  ]| murmured the
101:008,01['  ]| old man, kindly.  
101:008,01[F  ]| "He is a very good nurse, Lord*Warburton."
101:008,02[F  ]|
101:008,03[D  ]| "Is not he a bit clumsy?" 
101:008,03['  ]| asked his lordship.
101:008,04[F  ]| "Oh no$7$, he is not clumsy ~~ considering that$3$ he is
101:008,05[F  ]| an invalid himself.  He is a very good nurse ~~ for$4$
101:008,06[F  ]| a sick-nurse.  I call him my sick-nurse because he is
101:008,07[F  ]| sick himself."
101:008,08[B  ]| "Oh, come, daddy!" 
101:008,08['  ]| the ugly young man exclaimed.
101:008,09['  ]|
101:008,10[F  ]| "Well, you are; I wish you were not.  But I suppose 
101:008,11[F  ]| you can not help it."
101:008,12[B  ]| "I might try: that$6#2$ is an idea," 
101:008,12['  ]| said the young man.
101:008,13[F  ]| "Were you ever sick, Lord*Warburton?" 
101:008,13['  ]| his
101:008,14['  ]| father asked.
101:008,15['  ]| Lord*Warburton considered a moment.  
101:008,15[D  ]| "Yes, sir,
101:008,16[D  ]| once, in$4$ the Persian Gulf."
101:008,17[B  ]| "He is making light of you, daddy," 
101:008,17['  ]| said the other
101:008,18['  ]| young man.  
101:008,18[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is a sort of joke."
101:008,19[F  ]| "Well, there seem to$9$ be so$5#1$ many sorts now,"
101:008,20['  ]| daddy replied, serenely.  
101:008,20[F  ]| "You do not look as if you
101:008,21[F  ]| had been sick, any way, Lord*Warburton."
101:008,22[B  ]| "He is sick of life; he was just telling me so$5#2$; going
101:008,23[B  ]| on$5$ fearfully about it," 
101:008,23['  ]| said Lord*Warburton's friend.  
101:008,24[F  ]| "Is that$6#2$ true, sir?" 
101:008,24['  ]| asked the old man gravely.
101:008,25[D  ]| "If it is, your son gave me no$2$ consolation.  He is
101:008,26[D  ]| a wretched fellow to$9$ talk to$4$ ~~ a regular cynic.  He
101:008,27[D  ]| does not seem to$9$ believe in$4$ anything."
101:008,28[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is another sort of joke,"  
101:008,28['  ]| said the person
101:008,29['  ]| accused of cynicism.
101:008,30[F  ]| "It is because his health is so$5#1$ poor," 
101:008,30['  ]| his father explained
101:008,31['  ]| to$4$ Lord*Warburton.  
101:008,31[F  ]| "It affects his mind and
101:008,32[F  ]| colours his way of looking at things; he seems to$9$ feel
101:009,01[F  ]| as if he had never had a chance.  But it is almost entirely
101:009,02[F  ]| theoretical, you know; it does not seem to$9$ affect 
101:009,03[F  ]| his spirits.  I have hardly ever seen him when he was not
101:009,04[F  ]| cheerful ~~ about as he is at present.  He often cheers
101:009,05[F  ]| me up$5$."
101:009,06['  ]| The young man so$5#2$ described looked at Lord*Warburton
101:009,07['  ]| and laughed.  
101:009,07[B  ]| "Is it a glowing eulogy or an
101:009,08[B  ]| accusation of levity?  Should you like$1$ me to$9$ carry out
101:009,09[B  ]| my theories, daddy?"
101:009,10[D  ]| "By$4$ Jove, we should see some queer things!" 
101:009,10['  ]| cried
101:009,11['  ]| Lord*Warburton.
101:009,12[F  ]| "I hope you have not taken up$5$ that$6#2$ sort of tone,"
101:009,13['  ]| said the old man.
101:009,14[B  ]| "Warburton's tone is worse than mine; he pretends 
101:009,15[B  ]| to$9$ be bored.  I am not in$4$ the least bored; I find
101:009,16[B  ]| life only too interesting."
101:009,17[F  ]| "Ah, \too\ interesting; you should not allow it to$9$ be 
101:009,18[F  ]| that$6#2$, you know!"
101:009,19[D  ]| "I am never bored when I come here," 
101:009,19['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.
101:009,20[D  ]| "One gets such uncommonly good
101:009,21[D  ]| talk."
101:009,22[F  ]| "Is that$6#2$ another sort of joke?" 
101:009,22['  ]| asked the old man.
101:009,23[F  ]| "You have no$2$ excuse for$4$ being bored anywhere.  When
101:009,24[F  ]| I was your age I had never heard of such a thing."
101:009,25[D  ]| "You must have developed very late."
101:009,26[F  ]| "No$7$, I developed very quick; that$6#2$ was just the
101:009,27[F  ]| reason.  When I was twenty years old I was very highly
101:009,28[F  ]| developed indeed.  I was working tooth and nail.
101:009,29[F  ]| You would not be bored if you had something to$9$ do;
101:009,30[F  ]| but all you young men are too idle.  You think too
101:009,31[F  ]| much of your pleasure.  You are too fastidious, and
101:009,32[F  ]| too indolent, and too rich."
101:010,01[D  ]| "Oh, I say," 
101:010,01['  ]| cried Lord*Warburton, 
101:010,01[D  ]| "you are
101:010,02[D  ]| hardly the person to$9$ accuse a fellow-creature of being
101:010,03[D  ]| too rich!"
101:010,04[F  ]| "Do you mean because I am a banker?" 
101:010,04['  ]| asked the
101:010,05['  ]| old man.
101:010,06[D  ]| "Because of that$6#2$, if you like$1$; and because you have
101:010,07[D  ]| ~~ have not you? ~~ such unlimited means."
101:010,08[B  ]| "He is not very rich," 
101:010,08['  ]| the other young man mercifully 
101:010,09['  ]| pleaded.  
101:010,09[B  ]| "He has given away an immense
101:010,10[B  ]| deal of money."
101:010,11[D  ]| "Well, I suppose it was his own,"
101:010,11['  ]| said Lord*Warburton;
101:010,12[D  ]| "and in$4$ that$6#2$ case could there be a better
101:010,13[D  ]| proof of wealth?  Let not a public benefactor talk of
101:010,14[D  ]| one's being too fond of pleasure."
101:010,15[B  ]| "Daddy is very fond of pleasure ~~ of other people's."
101:010,16[B  ]|
101:010,17['  ]| The old man shook his head.  
101:010,17[F  ]| "I do not pretend to$9$
101:010,18[F  ]| have contributed anything to$4$ the amusement of my
101:010,19[F  ]| contemporaries."
101:010,20[B  ]| "My dear father, you are too modest!"
101:010,21[D  ]| "That$6#2$ is a kind of joke, sir," 
101:010,21['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.
101:010,22[F  ]| "You young men have too many jokes.  When there
101:010,23[F  ]| are no$2$ jokes you have nothing left."
101:010,24[B  ]| "Fortunately there are always more jokes," 
101:010,24['  ]| the
101:010,25['  ]| ugly young man remarked.
101:010,26[F  ]| "I do not believe it ~~ I believe things are getting
101:010,27[F  ]| more serious.  You young men will$1$ find that$6#2$ out."
101:010,28[B  ]| "The increasing seriousness of things, then ~~
101:010,29[B  ]| that$6#2$ is the great opportunity of jokes."
101:010,30[F  ]| "They will$1$ have to$9$ be grim jokes," 
101:010,30['  ]| said the old man.
101:010,31[F  ]| "I am convinced there will$1$ be great changes; and not
101:010,32[F  ]| all for$4$ the better."
101:011,01[D  ]| "I quite agree with you, sir," 
101:011,01['  ]| Lord*Warburton declared. 
101:011,02[D  ]| "I am very sure there will$1$ be great changes,
101:011,03[D  ]| and that$3$ all sorts of queer things will$1$ happen.  That$6#2$ is
101:011,04[D  ]| why I find so$5#1$ much difficulty in$4$ applying your advice;
101:011,05[D  ]| you know you told me the other day that$3$ I ought to$9$
101:011,06[D  ]| ""take hold"" of something.  One hesitates to$9$ take hold
101:011,07[D  ]| of a thing that$6#1$ may the next moment be knocked
101:011,08[D  ]| sky-high."
101:011,09[B  ]| "You ought to$9$ take hold of a pretty woman," 
101:011,09['  ]| said
101:011,10['  ]| his companion.  
101:011,10[B  ]| "He is trying hard to$9$ fall in$4$ love,"
101:011,11['  ]| he added, by$4$ way of explanation, to$4$ his father.
101:011,12[D  ]| "The pretty women themselves may be sent flying!"
101:011,13['  ]| Lord*Warburton exclaimed.
101:011,14[F  ]| "No$7$, no$7$, they will$1$ be firm," 
101:011,14['  ]| the old man rejoined;
101:011,15[F  ]| "they will$1$ not be affected by$4$ the social and political
101:011,16[F  ]| changes I just referred to$4$."
101:011,17[D  ]| "You mean they will$1$ not be abolished?  Very well,
101:011,18[D  ]| then, I will$1$ lay hands on$4$ one as soon as possible and
101:011,19[D  ]| tie her round my neck as a life-preserver."
101:011,20[F  ]| "The ladies will$1$ save us," 
101:011,20['  ]| said the old man; 
101:011,20[F  ]| "that$6#2$
101:011,21[F  ]| is the best of them will$1$ ~~ for$3$ I make a difference
101:011,22[F  ]| between them.  Make up$5$ to$4$ a good one and marry
101:011,23[F  ]| her, and your life will$1$ become much more interesting."
101:011,24[F  ]|
101:011,25['  ]| A momentary silence marked perhaps on$4$ the part
101:011,26['  ]| of his auditors a sense of the magnanimity of this
101:011,27['  ]| speech, for$3$ it was a secret neither for$4$ his son nor for$4$
101:011,28['  ]| his visitor that$3$ his own experiment in$4$ matrimony had
101:011,29['  ]| not been a happy one.  As he said, however, he made
101:011,30['  ]| a difference; and these words may have been intended
101:011,31['  ]| as a confession of personal error; though of course
101:011,32['  ]| it was not in$4$ place for$4$ either of his companions to$9$
101:012,01['  ]| remark that$3$ apparently the lady of his choice had
101:012,02['  ]| not been one of the best.
101:012,03[D  ]| "If I marry an interesting woman I shall be interested:
101:012,04[D  ]| is that$6#2$ what you say?" 
101:012,04['  ]| Lord*Warburton
101:012,05['  ]| asked.  
101:012,05[D  ]| "I am not at all keen about marrying ~~ your
101:012,06[D  ]| son misrepresented me; but there is no$2$ knowing what 
101:012,07[D  ]| an interesting woman might do with me."
101:012,08[B  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ see your idea of an interesting
101:012,09[B  ]| woman," 
101:012,09['  ]| said his friend.
101:012,10[D  ]| "My dear fellow, you can not see ideas ~~ especially
101:012,11[D  ]| such highly ethereal ones as mine.  If I could only see
101:012,12[D  ]| it myself ~~ that$6#2$ would be a great step in$4$ advance."
101:012,13[F  ]| "Well, you may fall in$4$ love with whomsoever you
101:012,14[F  ]| please; but you must not fall in$4$ love with my niece,"
101:012,15['  ]| said the old man.
101:012,16['  ]| His son broke into a laugh.  
101:012,16[B  ]| "He will$1$ think you mean
101:012,17[B  ]| that$6#2$ as a provocation!  My dear father, you have lived
101:012,18[B  ]| with the English for$4$ thirty years, and you have picked
101:012,19[B  ]| up$5$ a good many of the things they say.  But you have
101:012,20[B  ]| never learned the things they do not say!"
101:012,21[F  ]| "I say what I please," 
101:012,21['  ]| the old man returned with
101:012,22['  ]| all his serenity.
101:012,23[D  ]| "I have not the honour of knowing your niece,"
101:012,24['  ]| Lord*Warburton said.  
101:012,24[D  ]| "I think it is the first time
101:012,25[D  ]| I have heard of her. 
101:012,26[F  ]| "She is a niece of my wife's; Mrs%*Touchett brings
101:012,27[F  ]| her to$4$ England."
101:012,28['  ]| Then young Mr%*Touchett explained.  
101:012,28[B  ]| "My mother,
101:012,29[B  ]| you know, has been spending the winter in$4$
101:012,30[B  ]| America, and we are expecting her back.  She writes
101:012,31[B  ]| that$3$ she has discovered a niece and that$3$ she has invited
101:012,32[B  ]| her to$9$ come out with her." 
101:013,01[D  ]| "I see ~~ very kind of her," 
101:013,01['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.
101:013,02[D  ]| "Is the young lady interesting?"
101:013,03[B  ]| "We hardly know more about her than you; my
101:013,04[B  ]| mother has not gone into details.  She chiefly communicates 
101:013,05[B  ]| with us by$4$ means of telegrams, and her
101:013,06[B  ]| telegrams are rather inscrutable.  They say women
101:013,07[B  ]| do not know how to$9$ write them, but my mother has
101:013,08[B  ]| thoroughly mastered the art of condensation.  
101:013,08@g   | ""Tired
101:013,09@g   | America, hot weather awful, return England with
101:013,10@g   | niece, first steamer decent cabin.""
101:013,10[B  ]| That$6#2$ is the sort of
101:013,11[B  ]| message we get from her ~~ that$6#2$ was the last that$6#1$
101:013,12[B  ]| came.  But there had been another before, which$6#1$ I
101:013,13[B  ]| think contained the first mention of the niece.
101:013,14@g   | ""Changed hotel, very bad, impudent clerk, address
101:013,15@g   | here.  Taken sister's girl, died last year, go to$4$ Europe,
101:013,16@g   | two sisters, quite independent.""
101:013,16[B  ]| Over that$6#2$ my father
101:013,17[B  ]| and I have scarcely stopped puzzling; it seems to$9$
101:013,18[B  ]| admit of so$5#1$ many interpretations."
101:013,19[F  ]| "There is one thing very clear in$4$ it," 
101:013,19['  ]| said the old
101:013,20['  ]| man; 
101:013,20[F  ]| "she has given the hotel-clerk a dressing."
101:013,21[B  ]| "I am not sure even of that$6#2$, since he has driven her
101:013,22[B  ]| from the field.  We thought at first that$3$ the sister
101:013,23[B  ]| mentioned might be the sister of the clerk; but the
101:013,24[B  ]| subsequent mention of a niece seems to$9$ prove that$3$
101:013,25[B  ]| the allusion is to$4$ one of my aunts.  Then there was
101:013,26[B  ]| a question as to$4$ whose the two other sisters were; they
101:013,27[B  ]| are probably two of my late aunt's daughters.  But
101:013,28[B  ]| who$6#1$ is 
101:013,28@g   | ""quite independent,"" 
101:013,28[B  ]| and in$4$ what sense is the
101:013,29[B  ]| term used? ~~ that$6#2$ point is not yet settled.  Does the 
101:013,30[B  ]| expression apply more particularly to$4$ the young lady 
101:013,31[B  ]| my mother has adopted, or does it characterise her
101:013,32[B  ]| sisters equally? ~~ and is it used in$4$ a moral or in$4$ a
101:014,01[B  ]| financial sense?  Does it mean that$3$ they have been left
101:014,02[B  ]| well off, or that$3$ they wish to$9$ be under no$2$ obligations?
101:014,03[B  ]| or does it simply mean that$3$ they are fond of their
101:014,04[B  ]| own way?"
101:014,05[F  ]| "Whatever else it means, it is pretty sure to$9$ mean
101:014,06[F  ]| that$6#2$," 
101:014,06['  ]| Mr%*Touchett remarked.
101:014,07[D  ]| "You will$1$ see for$4$ yourself,"
101:014,07['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.
101:014,08[D  ]| "When does Mrs%*Touchett arrive?"
101:014,09[F  ]| "We are quite in$4$ the dark; as soon as she can find
101:014,10[F  ]| a decent cabin.  She may be waiting for$4$ it yet; on$4$ the
101:014,11[F  ]| other hand she may already have disembarked in$4$
101:014,12[F  ]| England."
101:014,13[D  ]| "In$4$ that$6#2$ case she would probably have telegraphed
101:014,14[D  ]| to$4$ you."
101:014,15[F  ]| "She never telegraphs when you would expect it
101:014,16[F  ]| ~~ only when you do not," 
101:014,16['  ]| said the old man.  
101:014,16[F  ]| "She
101:014,17[F  ]| likes to$9$ drop on$4$ me suddenly; she thinks she will$1$ find
101:014,18[F  ]| me doing something wrong.  She has never done so$5#2$
101:014,19[F  ]| yet, but she is not discouraged."
101:014,20[B  ]| "It is her share in$4$ the family trait, the independence
101:014,21[B  ]| she speaks of."  
101:014,21['  ]| Her son's appreciation of the matter
101:014,22['  ]| was more favourable.  
101:014,22[B  ]| "Whatever the high spirit of 
101:014,23[B  ]| those young ladies may be, her own is a match for$4$ it.
101:014,24[B  ]| She likes to$9$ do everything for$4$ herself and has no$2$ belief
101:014,25[B  ]| in$4$ any*one's power to$9$ help her.  She thinks me of
101:014,26[B  ]| no$2$ more use than a postage-stamp without gum, and
101:014,27[B  ]| she would never forgive me if I should presume to$9$ go 
101:014,28[B  ]| to$4$ Liverpool to$9$ meet her."
101:014,29[D  ]| "Will$1$ you at least let me know when your cousin
101:014,30[D  ]| arrives?"  
101:014,30['  ]| Lord*Warburton asked.
101:014,31[F  ]| "Only on$4$ the condition I have mentioned ~~ that$3$ you
101:014,32[F  ]| do not fall in$4$ love with her!"  
101:014,32['  ]| Mr%*Touchett replied.
101:015,01[D  ]| "That$6#2$ strikes me as hard. Do not you think me good
101:015,02[D  ]| enough?"
101:015,03[F  ]| "I think you too good ~~ because I should not like$1$
101:015,04[F  ]| her to$9$ marry you.  She has not come here to$9$ look for$4$
101:015,05[F  ]| a husband, I hope; so$5#1$ many young ladies are doing
101:015,06[F  ]| that$6#2$, as if there were no$2$ good ones at home.  Then
101:015,07[F  ]| she is probably engaged; American girls are usually
101:015,08[F  ]| engaged, I believe.  Moreover I am not sure, after all,
101:015,09[F  ]| that$3$ you would be a remarkable husband."
101:015,10[D  ]| "Very likely she is engaged; I have known a good
101:015,11[D  ]| many American girls, and they always were; but I
101:015,12[D  ]| could never see that$3$ it made any difference, upon$4$ my
101:015,13[D  ]| word!  As for$4$ my being a good husband," 
101:015,13['  ]| Mr%*Touchett's
101:015,14['  ]| visitor pursued, 
101:015,14[D  ]| "I am not sure of that$6#2$ either.
101:015,15[D  ]| One can but try!"
101:015,16[F  ]| "Try as much as you please, but do not try on$4$ my
101:015,17[F  ]| niece," 
101:015,17['  ]| smiled the old man, whose opposition to$4$ the
101:015,18['  ]| idea was broadly humorous.
101:015,19[D  ]| "Ah, well," 
101:015,19['  ]| said Lord*Warburton with a humour
101:015,20['  ]| broader still, 
101:015,20[D  ]| "perhaps, after all, she is not worth trying
101:015,21[D  ]| on$5$!" 
102:016,01['  ]| While this exchange of pleasantries took place between
102:016,02['  ]| the two Ralph*Touchett wandered away a little,
102:016,03['  ]| with his usual slouching gait, his hands in$4$ his pockets
102:016,04['  ]| and his little rowdyish terrier at his heels.  His face
102:016,05['  ]| was turned toward the house, but his eyes were bent
102:016,06['  ]| musingly on$4$ the lawn; so$3$ that$3$ he had been an object
102:016,07['  ]| of observation to$4$ a person who$6#1$ had just made her appearance
102:016,08['  ]| in$4$ the ample doorway for$4$ some moments
102:016,09['  ]| before he perceived her.  His attention was called to$4$
102:016,10['  ]| her by$4$ the conduct of his dog, who$6#1$ had suddenly
102:016,11['  ]| darted forward with a little volley of shrill barks, in$4$
102:016,14['  ]| which$6#1$ the note of welcome, however, was more sensible 
102:016,15['  ]| than that$6#2$ of defiance.  The person in$4$ question
102:016,16['  ]| was a young lady, who$6#1$ seemed immediately to$9$ interpret
102:016,17['  ]| the greeting of the small beast.  He advanced
102:016,18['  ]| with great rapidity and stood at her feet, looking up$5$
102:016,19['  ]| and barking hard; whereupon, without hesitation,
102:016,20['  ]| she stooped and caught him in$4$ her hands, holding him
102:016,21['  ]| face to$4$ face while he continued his quick chatter.
102:016,22['  ]| His master now had had time to$9$ follow and to$9$ see
102:016,23['  ]| that$3$ 
102:016,23@b   | Bunchie's new friend was a tall girl in$4$ a black
102:016,24@b   | dress, who$6#1$ at first sight looked pretty.  She was bare-headed,
102:016,25@b   | as if she were staying in$4$ the house ~~ 
102:016,25['  ]| a fact 
102:016,26['  ]| which$6#1$ conveyed perplexity to$4$ the son of its master,
102:016,27['  ]| conscious of that$6#2$ immunity from visitors which$6#1$ had
102:016,28['  ]| for$4$ some time been rendered necessary by$4$ the latter's
102:016,29['  ]| ill-health.  Meantime the two other gentlemen had
102:016,30['  ]| also taken note of the new-comer.
102:017,01[F  ]| "Dear me, who$6#2$ is that$6#2$  strange woman?" 
102:017,01['  ]| Mr%*Touchett
102:017,02['  ]| had asked.
102:017,03[D  ]| "Perhaps it is Mrs%*Touchett's niece ~~ the independent
102:017,04[D  ]| young lady," 
102:017,04['  ]| Lord*Warburton suggested.
102:017,05[D  ]| "I think she must be, from the way she handles the 
102:017,06[D  ]| dog."
102:017,07['  ]| The collie, too, had now allowed his attention to$9$
102:017,08['  ]| be diverted, and he trotted toward the  young lady in$4$
102:017,09['  ]| the doorway, slowly setting his tail in$4$ motion as he
102:017,10['  ]| went.
102:017,11[F  ]| "But where is my wife then?" 
102:017,11['  ]| murmured the old
102:017,12['  ]| man.
102:017,13[D  ]| "I suppose the young lady has left her somewhere:
102:017,14[D  ]| that$6#2$ is a part of the independence."
102:017,15['  ]| The girl spoke to$4$ Ralph, smiling, while she still
102:017,16['  ]| held up$5$ the terrier.  
102:017,16[A  ]| "Is this your little dog, sir?"
102:017,17[B  ]| "He was mine a moment ago; but you have suddenly
102:017,18[B  ]| acquired a remarkable air of property in$4$ him."
102:017,19[A  ]| "Could not we share him?" 
102:017,19['  ]| asked the girl.  
102:017,19[A  ]| "He is
102:017,20[A  ]| such a perfect little darling."
102:017,21['  ]| Ralph looked at her a moment; she was unexpectedly 
102:017,22['  ]| pretty.  
102:017,22[A  ]| "You may have him altogether," 
102:017,22['  ]| he 
102:017,23['  ]| then replied.
102:017,24['  ]| The young lady seemed to$9$ have a great deal of confidence,
102:017,25['  ]| both in$4$ herself and in$4$ others; but this abrupt
102:017,26['  ]| generosity made her blush.  
102:017,26[A  ]| "I ought to$9$ tell you that$3$
102:017,27[A  ]| I am probably your cousin," 
102:017,27['  ]| she brought out, putting
102:017,28['  ]| down the dog.  
102:017,28[A  ]| "And here is another!" 
102:017,28['  ]| she added
102:017,29['  ]| quickly, as the collie came up$5$.
102:017,30[B  ]| "Probably?" 
102:017,30['  ]| the young man exclaimed, laughing.
102:017,31[B  ]| "I supposed it was quite settled!  Have you arrived
102:017,32[B  ]| with my mother?"                      
102:018,01[A  ]| "Yes, half an hour ago."
102:018,02[B  ]| "And has she deposited you and departed again?"
102:018,03[A  ]| "No$7$, she went straight to$4$ her room, and she told
102:018,04[A  ]| me that$3$, if I should see you, I was to$9$ say to$4$ you
102:018,05[A  ]| that$3$ you must come to$4$ her there at a quarter to$4$ 
102:018,06[A  ]| seven."
102:018,07['  ]| The young man looked at his watch.  
102:018,07[B  ]| "Thank you
102:018,08[B  ]| very much; I shall be punctual."  
102:018,08['  ]| And then he looked
102:018,09['  ]| at his cousin.  
102:018,09[B  ]| "You are very welcome here.  I am
102:018,10[B  ]| delighted to$9$ see you."
102:018,11['  ]| She was looking at everything, with an eye that$6#1$
102:018,12['  ]| denoted clear perception ~~ at her companion, at the
102:018,13['  ]| two dogs, at the two gentlemen under the trees, at the
102:018,14['  ]| beautiful scene that$6#1$ surrounded her.  
102:018,14[A  ]| "I have never
102:018,15[A  ]| seen anything so$5#1$ lovely as this place.  I have been all
102:018,16[A  ]| over the house; it is too enchanting."
102:018,17[B  ]| "I am sorry you should have been here so$5#1$ long
102:018,18[B  ]| without our knowing it."
102:018,19[A  ]| "Your mother told me that$3$ in$4$ England people 
102:018,20[A  ]| arrived very quietly; so$3$ I thought it was all right.  Is
102:018,21[A  ]| one of those gentlemen your father?"
102:018,22[B  ]| "Yes, the elder one ~~ the one sitting down," 
102:018,22['  ]| said
102:018,23['  ]| Ralph.
102:018,24['  ]| The girl gave a laugh.  
102:018,24[A  ]| "I do not suppose it is the
102:018,25[A  ]| other.  Who$6#2$ is the other?"
102:018,26[B  ]| "He is a friend of ours ~~ Lord*Warburton."
102:018,27[A  ]| "Oh, I hoped there would be a lord; it is just like$4$
102:018,28[A  ]| a novel!" 
102:018,28['  ]| And then, 
102:018,28[A  ]| "Oh you adorable creature!"
102:018,29['  ]| she suddenly cried, stooping down and picking up$5$ the 
102:018,30['  ]| small dog again.
102:018,31['  ]| She remained standing where they had met, making
102:018,32['  ]| no$2$ offer to$9$ advance or to$9$ speak to$4$ Mr%*Touchett,
102:019,01['  ]| and while she lingered so$5#1$ near the threshold, slim and 
102:019,02['  ]| charming, her interlocutor wondered 
102:019,02@b   | if she expected
102:019,03@b   | the old man to$9$ come and pay her his respects.  American
102:019,04@b   | girls were used to$4$ a great deal of deference, and
102:019,05@b   | it had been intimated that$3$ this one had a high spirit.
102:019,06['  ]| Indeed Ralph could see that$6#2$ in$4$ her face.
102:019,07[B  ]| "will$1$ not you come and make acquaintance with my
102:019,08[B  ]| father?" 
102:019,08['  ]| he nevertheless ventured to$9$ ask.  
102:019,08[B  ]| "He is old
102:019,09[B  ]| and infirm ~~ he does not leave his chair."
102:019,10[A  ]| "Ah, poor man, I am very sorry!" 
102:019,10['  ]| the girl exclaimed,
102:019,11['  ]| immediately moving forward.  
102:019,11[A  ]| "I got the
102:019,12[A  ]| impression from your mother that$3$ he was rather ~~
102:019,13[A  ]| rather intensely active."
102:019,14['  ]| Ralph*Touchett was silent a moment.  
102:019,14[B  ]| "She has not
102:019,15[B  ]| seen him for$4$ a year."
102:019,16[A  ]| "Well, he has a lovely place to$9$ sit.  Come along,
102:019,17[A  ]| little hound."
102:019,18[B  ]| "It is a dear old place," 
102:019,18['  ]| said the young man, looking
102:019,19['  ]| sidewise at his neighbour.
102:019,20[A  ]| "What is his name?" 
102:019,20['  ]| she asked, her attention
102:019,21['  ]| having again reverted to$4$ the terrier.
102:019,22[B  ]| "My father's name?"
102:019,23[A  ]| "Yes," 
102:019,23['  ]| said the young lady with amusement; 
102:019,23[A  ]| "but
102:019,24[A  ]| do not tell him I asked you."
102:019,25['  ]| They had come by$4$ this time to$4$ where old Mr*Touchett
102:019,26['  ]| was sitting, and he slowly got up$5$ from his
102:019,27['  ]| chair to$9$ introduce himself.
102:019,28[B  ]| "My mother has arrived," 
102:019,28['  ]| said Ralph, 
102:019,28[B  ]| "and this
102:019,29[B  ]| is Miss*Archer."
102:019,30['  ]| The old man placed his two hands on$4$ her shoulders,
102:019,31['  ]| looked at her a moment with extreme benevolence
102:019,32['  ]| and then gallantly kissed her.  
102:019,32[F  ]| "It is a great 
102:020,01[F  ]| pleasure to$4$ me to$9$ see you here; but I wish you had
102:020,02[F  ]| given us a chance to$9$ receive you."
102:020,03[A  ]| "Oh, we were received," 
102:020,03['  ]| said the girl.  
102:020,03[A  ]| "There
102:020,04[A  ]| were about a dozen servants in$4$ the hall.  And there
102:020,05[A  ]| was an old woman curtseying at the gate."
102:020,06[F  ]| "We can do better than that$6#2$ ~~ if we have notice!"
102:020,07['  ]| And the old man stood there smiling, rubbing his
102:020,08['  ]| hands and slowly shaking his head at her.  
102:020,08[F  ]| "But Mrs%*Touchett
102:020,09[F  ]| does not like$1$ receptions."
102:020,10[A  ]| "She went straight to$4$ her room."
102:020,11[F  ]| "Yes ~~ and locked herself in$5$.  She always does
102:020,12[F  ]| that$6#2$.  Well, I suppose I shall see her next week."
102:020,13['  ]| And Mrs%*Touchett's husband slowly resumed his
102:020,14['  ]| former posture.
102:020,15[A  ]| "Before that$6#2$," 
102:020,15['  ]| said Miss*Archer.  
102:020,15[A  ]| "She is coming
102:020,16[A  ]| down to$4$ dinner ~~ at eight o'clock.  Do not you forget
102:020,17[A  ]| a quarter to$4$ seven," 
102:020,17['  ]| she added, turning with a smile
102:020,18['  ]| to$4$ Ralph.
102:020,19[F  ]| "What is to$9$ happen at a quarter to$4$ seven?"
102:020,20[B  ]| "I am to$9$ see my mother," 
102:020,20['  ]| said Ralph.
102:020,21[F  ]| "Ah, happy boy!" 
102:020,21['  ]| the old man commented.  
102:020,21[F  ]| "You
102:020,22[F  ]| must sit down ~~ you must have some tea," 
102:020,22['  ]| he observed
102:020,23['  ]| to$4$ his wife's niece.
102:020,24[A  ]| "They gave me some tea in$4$ my room the moment
102:020,25[A  ]| I got there," 
102:020,25['  ]| this young lady answered.  
102:020,25[A  ]| "I am sorry
102:020,26[A  ]| you are out of health," 
102:020,26['  ]| she added, resting her eyes 
102:020,27['  ]| upon$4$ her venerable host.
102:020,28[F  ]| "Oh, I am an old man, my dear; it is time for$4$
102:020,29[F  ]| me to$9$ be old.  But I shall be the better for$4$ having
102:020,30[F  ]| you here."
102:020,31['  ]| She had been looking all round her again ~~ at the
102:020,32['  ]| lawn, the great trees, the reedy, silvery Thames, the
102:021,01['  ]| beautiful old house; and while engaged in$4$ this survey
102:021,02['  ]| she had made room in$4$ it for$4$ her companions; a
102:021,03['  ]| comprehensiveness of observation easily conceivable on$4$
102:021,04['  ]| the part of a young woman who$6#1$ was evidently both
102:021,05['  ]| intelligent and excited.  She had seated herself and
102:021,06['  ]| had put away the little dog; her white hands, in$4$ her
102:021,07['  ]| lap, were folded upon$4$ her black dress; her head was
102:021,08['  ]| erect, her eye lighted, her flexible figure turned itself
102:021,09['  ]| easily this way and that$6#2$, in$4$ sympathy with the alertness
102:021,10['  ]| with which$6#1$ she evidently caught impressions.
102:021,11['  ]| Her impressions were numerous, and they were all
102:021,12['  ]| reflected in$4$ a clear, still smile.  
102:021,12[A  ]| "I have never seen
102:021,13[A  ]| anything so$5#1$ beautiful as this."
102:021,14[F  ]| "It is looking very well," 
102:021,14['  ]| said Mr*Touchett.  
102:021,14[F  ]| "I
102:021,15[F  ]| know the way it strikes you.  I have been through all
102:021,16[F  ]| that$6#2$.  But you are very beautiful yourself," 
102:021,16['  ]| he added
102:021,17['  ]| with a politeness by$4$ no$2$ means crudely jocular and
102:021,18['  ]| with the happy consciousness that$3$ his advanced age
102:021,19['  ]| gave him the privilege of saying such things ~~ even to$4$
102:021,20['  ]| young persons who$6#1$ might possibly take alarm at them.
102:021,21['  ]| What degree of alarm this young person took need
102:021,22['  ]| not be exactly measured: she instantly rose, however,
102:021,23['  ]| with a blush which$6#1$ was not a refutation.  
102:021,23[A  ]| "Oh yes, of
102:021,24[A  ]| course I am lovely!" 
102:021,24['  ]| she returned with a quick laugh.
102:021,25[A  ]| "How old is your house? Is it Elizabethan?"
102:021,26[B  ]| "It is early Tudor," 
102:021,26['  ]| said Ralph*Touchett.
102:021,27['  ]| She turned toward him, watching his face.  
102:021,27[A  ]| "Early
102:021,28[A  ]| Tudor?  How very delightful!  And I suppose there
102:021,29[A  ]| are a great many others." 
102:021,30[B  ]| "There are many much better ones."
102:021,31[F  ]| "Do not say that$6#2$, my son!" 
102:021,31['  ]| the old man protested.
102:021,32[F  ]| "There is nothing better than this."
102:022,01[D  ]| "I have got a very good one; I think in$4$ some respects
102:022,02[D  ]| it is rather better," 
102:022,02['  ]| said Lord*Warburton, who$6#1$ as yet
102:022,03['  ]| had not spoken, but who$6#1$ had kept an attentive eye
102:022,04['  ]| upon$4$ Miss*Archer.  He slightly inclined himself,
102:022,05['  ]| smiling; he had an excellent manner with women.
102:022,06['  ]| The girl appreciated it in$4$ an instant; she had not
102:022,07['  ]| forgotten that$3$ this was Lord*Warburton.  
102:022,07[D  ]| "I should
102:022,08[D  ]| like$1$ very much to$9$ show it to$4$ you," 
102:022,08['  ]| he added.
102:022,09[F  ]| "Do not believe him," 
102:022,09['  ]| cried the old man; 
102:022,09[F  ]| "do not 
102:022,10[F  ]| look at it!  It is a wretched old barrack ~~ not to$9$ be
102:022,11[F  ]| compared with this."
102:022,12[A  ]| "I do not know ~~ I can not judge," 
102:022,12['  ]| said the girl,
102:022,13['  ]| smiling at Lord*Warburton.
102:022,14['  ]| In$4$ this discussion Ralph*Touchett took no$2$ interest
102:022,15['  ]| whatever; he stood with his hands in$4$ his pockets,
102:022,16['  ]| looking greatly as if he should like$1$ to$9$ renew his conversation
102:022,17['  ]| with his new-found cousin.  
102:022,17[B  ]| "Are you very
102:022,18[B  ]| fond of dogs?" 
102:022,18['  ]| he enquired by$4$ way of beginning.
102:022,19['  ]| He seemed to$9$ recognise that$3$ it was an awkward beginning
102:022,20['  ]| for$4$ a clever man.
102:022,21[A  ]| "Very fond of them indeed."
102:022,22[B  ]| "You must keep the terrier, you know," 
102:022,22['  ]| he went
102:022,23['  ]| on$5$, still awkwardly.
102:022,24[A  ]| "I will$1$ keep him while I am here, with pleasure."
102:022,25[B  ]| "That$6#2$ will$1$ be for$4$ a long time, I hope."
102:022,26[A  ]| "You are very kind.  I hardly know.  My aunt must
102:022,27[A  ]| settle that$6#2$."
102:022,28[B  ]| "I will$1$ settle it with her ~~ at a quarter to$4$ seven."
102:022,29['  ]| And Ralph looked at his watch again.
102:022,30[A  ]| "I am glad to$9$ be here at all," 
102:022,30['  ]| said the girl.
102:022,31[B  ]| "I do not believe you allow things to$9$ be settled for$4$
102:022,32[B  ]| you."
102:023,01[A  ]| "Oh yes; if they are settled as I like$1$ them."
102:023,02[B  ]| "I shall settle this as I like$1$ it," 
102:023,02['  ]| said Ralph.  
102:023,02[B  ]| "It is
102:023,03[B  ]| most unaccountable that$3$ we should never have known
102:023,04[B  ]| you."
102:023,05[A  ]| "I was there ~~ you had only to$9$ come and see
102:023,06[A  ]| me."
102:023,07[B  ]| "There?  Where do you mean?"
102:023,08[A  ]| "In$4$ the United*States: in$4$ New York and Albany
102:023,09[A  ]| and other American places."
102:023,10[B  ]| "I have been there ~~ all over, but I never saw you.
102:023,11[B  ]| I can not make it out."
102:023,12['  ]| Miss*Archer just hesitated.  
102:023,12[A  ]| "It was because there
102:023,13[A  ]| had been some disagreement between your mother and
102:023,14[A  ]| my father, after my mother's death, which$6#1$ took place
102:023,15[A  ]| when I was a child.  In$4$ consequence of it we never
102:023,16[A  ]| expected to$9$ see you."
102:023,17[B  ]| "Ah, but I do not embrace all my mother's quarrels
102:023,18[B  ]| ~~ heaven forbid!" 
102:023,18['  ]| the young man cried.  
102:023,18[B  ]| "You have
102:023,19[B  ]| lately lost your father?" 
102:023,19['  ]| he went on$5$ more gravely.
102:023,20[A  ]| "Yes; more than a year ago.  After that$6#2$ my aunt
102:023,21[A  ]| was very kind to$4$ me; she came to$9$ see me and proposed
102:023,22[A  ]| that$3$ I should come with her to$4$ Europe."
102:023,23[B  ]| "I see," 
102:023,23['  ]| said Ralph.  
102:023,23[B  ]| "She has adopted you."
102:023,24[A  ]| "Adopted me?"  
102:023,24['  ]| The girl stared, and her blush
102:023,25['  ]| came back to$4$ her, together with a momentary look of
102:023,26['  ]| pain which$6#1$ gave her interlocutor some alarm.  He
102:023,27['  ]| had underestimated the effect of his words.  Lord*Warburton,
102:023,28['  ]| who$6#1$ appeared constantly desirous of a 
102:023,29['  ]| nearer view of Miss*Archer, strolled toward the two
102:023,30['  ]| cousins at the moment, and as he did so$5#2$ she rested
102:023,31['  ]| her wider eyes on$4$ him.  
102:023,31[A  ]| "Oh no$7$; she has not adopted
102:023,32[A  ]| me.  I am not a candidate for$4$ adoption."
102:024,01[B  ]| "I beg a thousand pardons," 
102:024,01['  ]| Ralph murmured.
102:024,02[B  ]| "I meant ~~ I meant ~~ "  
102:024,02['  ]| He hardly knew what he
102:024,03['  ]| meant.
102:024,04[A  ]| "You meant she has taken me up$5$.  Yes; she likes
102:024,05[A  ]| to$9$ take people up$5$.  She has been very kind to$4$ me;
102:024,06[A  ]| but," 
102:024,06['  ]| she added with a certain visible eagerness of
102:024,07['  ]| desire to$9$ be explicit, 
102:024,07[A  ]| "I am very fond of my liberty."
102:024,08[F  ]| "Are you talking about Mrs%*Touchett?"  
102:024,08['  ]| the old 
102:024,09['  ]| man called out from his chair.  
102:024,09[F  ]| "Come here, my dear,
102:024,10[F  ]| and tell me about her. I am always thankful for$4$ information."
102:024,11[F  ]| 
102:024,12['  ]| The girl hesitated again, smiling.  
102:024,12[A  ]| "She is really
102:024,13[A  ]| very benevolent," 
102:024,13['  ]| she answered; after which$6#1$ she
102:024,14['  ]| went over to$4$ her uncle, whose mirth was excited by$4$
102:024,15['  ]| her words.
102:024,16['  ]| Lord*Warburton was left standing with Ralph
102:024,17['  ]| Touchett, to$4$ whom in$4$ a moment he said: 
102:024,17[D  ]| "You
102:024,18[D  ]| wished a while ago to$9$ see my idea of an interesting
102:024,19[D  ]| woman.  There it is!"
103:025,01['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett was certainly a person of many
103:025,02['  ]| oddities, of which$6#1$ her behaviour on$4$ returning to$4$ her
103:025,03['  ]| husband's house after many months was a noticeable
103:025,04['  ]| specimen.  She had her own way of doing all that$6#1$ she
103:025,05['  ]| did, and this is the simplest description of a character
103:025,06['  ]| which$6#1$, although by$4$ no$2$ means without liberal
103:025,07['  ]| motions, rarely succeeded in$4$ giving an impresssion
103:025,08['  ]| of suavity.  Mrs%*Touchett might do a great deal of
103:025,09['  ]| good, but she never pleased.  This way of her own,
103:025,10['  ]| of which$6#1$ she was so$5#1$ fond, was not intrinsically offensive
103:025,11['  ]| ~~ it was just unmistakeably distinguished from 
103:025,12['  ]| the ways of others.  The edges of her conduct were
103:025,13['  ]| so$5#1$ very clear-cut that$3$ for$4$ susceptible persons it sometimes
103:025,14['  ]| had a knife-like effect.  That$6#2$ hard fineness came
103:025,15['  ]| out in$4$ her deportment during the first hours of her
103:025,16['  ]| return from America, under circumstances in$4$ which$6#1$
103:025,17['  ]| it might have seemed that$3$ her first act would have
103:025,18['  ]| been to$9$ exchange greetings with her husband and son.
103:025,19['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett, for$4$ reasons which$6#1$ she deemed excellent,
103:025,20['  ]| always retired on$4$ such occasions into impenetrable
103:025,21['  ]| seclusion, postponing the more sentimental
103:025,22['  ]| ceremony until she had repaired the disorder of dress
103:025,23['  ]| with a completeness which$6#1$ had the less reason to$9$ be
103:025,24['  ]| of high importance as neither beauty nor vanity were
103:025,25['  ]| concerned in$4$ it.  She was a plain-faced old woman,
103:025,26['  ]| without graces and without any great elegance, but
103:025,27['  ]| with an extreme respect for$4$ her own motives.  She was
103:026,01['  ]| usually prepared to$9$ explain these ~~ when the explanation
103:026,02['  ]| was asked as a favour; and in$4$ such a case they
103:026,03['  ]| proved totally different from those that$6#1$ had been
103:026,04['  ]| attributed to$4$ her.  She was virtually separated from
103:026,05['  ]| her husband, but she appeared to$9$ perceive nothing
103:026,06['  ]| irregular in$4$ the situation.  It had become clear, at
103:026,07['  ]| an early stage of their community, that$3$ they should
103:026,08['  ]| never desire the same thing at the same moment, and
103:026,09['  ]| this appearance had prompted her to$9$ rescue disagreement
103:026,10['  ]| from the vulgar realm of accident.  She did
103:026,11['  ]| what she could to$9$ erect it into a law ~~ a much more
103:026,12['  ]| edifying aspect of it ~~ by$4$ going to$9$ live in$4$ Florence,
103:026,13['  ]| where she bought a house and established herself; and
103:026,14['  ]| by$4$ leaving her husband to$9$ take care of the English
103:026,15['  ]| branch of his bank.  This arrangement greatly pleased
103:026,16['  ]| her; it was so$5#1$ felicitously definite.  It struck her husband
103:026,17['  ]| in$4$ the same light, in$4$ a foggy square in$4$ London,
103:026,18['  ]| where it was at times the most definite fact he discerned;
103:026,19['  ]| but he would have preferred that$3$ such unnatural 
103:026,20['  ]| things should have a greater vagueness.  To$9$
103:026,21['  ]| agree to$9$ disagree had cost him an effort; he was ready
103:026,22['  ]| to$9$ agree to$4$ almost anything but that$6#2$, and saw no$2$ reason
103:026,23['  ]| why either assent or dissent should be so$5#1$ terribly
103:026,24['  ]| consistent.  Mrs%*Touchett indulged in$4$ no$2$ regrets nor
103:026,25['  ]| speculations, and usually came once a year to$9$ spend
103:026,26['  ]| a month with her husband, a period during which$6#1$ she
103:026,27['  ]| apparently took pains to$9$ convince him that$3$ she had
103:026,28['  ]| adopted the right system.  She was not fond of the
103:026,29['  ]| English style of life, and had three or four reasons
103:026,30['  ]| for$4$ it to$4$ which$6#1$ she currently alluded; they bore upon$4$
103:026,31['  ]| minor points of that$6#2$ ancient order, but for$4$ Mrs%*Touchett
103:026,32['  ]| they amply justified non-residence.  She
103:027,01['  ]| detested bread-sauce, which$6#1$, as she said, looked like$4$
103:027,02['  ]| a poultice and tasted like$4$ soap; she objected to$4$ the
103:027,03['  ]| consumption of beer by$4$ her maid-servants; and she
103:027,04['  ]| affirmed that$3$ the British laundress (Mrs%*Touchett
103:027,05['  ]| was very particular about the appearance of her linen)
103:027,06['  ]| was not a mistress of her art.  At fixed intervals she
103:027,07['  ]| paid a visit to$4$ her own country; but this last had been
103:027,08['  ]| longer than any of its predecessors.
103:027,09['  ]| She had taken up$5$ her niece ~~ there was little doubt
103:027,10['  ]| of that$6#2$.  One wet afternoon, some four months earlier
103:027,11['  ]| than the occurrence lately narrated, this young lady
103:027,12['  ]| had been seated alone with a book.  To$9$ say she was
103:027,13['  ]| so$5#2$ occupied is to$9$ say that$3$ her solitude did not press
103:027,14['  ]| upon$4$ her; for$3$ her love of knowledge had a fertilising
103:027,15['  ]| quality and her imagination was strong.  There was
103:027,16['  ]| at this time, however, a want of fresh taste in$4$ her
103:027,17['  ]| situation which$6#1$ the arrival of an unexpected visitor
103:027,18['  ]| did much to$9$ correct.  The visitor had not been announced; 
103:027,19['  ]| the girl heard her at last walking about the
103:027,20['  ]| adjoining room.  It was in$4$ an old house at Albany,
103:027,21['  ]| a large, square, double house, with a notice of sale in$4$
103:027,22['  ]| the windows of one of the lower apartments.  There
103:027,23['  ]| were two entrances, one of which$6#1$ had long been out
103:027,24['  ]| of use but had never been removed.  They were exactly 
103:027,25['  ]| alike ~~ large white doors, with an arched frame
103:027,26['  ]| and wide side-lights, perched upon$4$ little "stoops"
103:027,27['  ]| of red stone, which$6#1$ descended sidewise to$4$ the brick
103:027,28['  ]| pavement of the street.  The two houses together
103:027,29['  ]| formed a single dwelling, the party-wall having been
103:027,30['  ]| removed and the rooms placed in$4$ communication.
103:027,31['  ]| These rooms, above-stairs, were extremely numerous,
103:027,32['  ]| and were painted all over exactly alike, in$4$ a yellowish
103:028,01['  ]| white which$6#1$ had grown sallow with time.  On$4$
103:028,02['  ]| the third floor there was a sort of arched passage,
103:028,03['  ]| connecting the two sides of the house, which$6#1$ Isabel
103:028,04['  ]| and her sisters used in$4$ their childhood to$9$ call the 
103:028,05['  ]| tunnel and which$6#1$, though it was short and well-lighted,
103:028,06['  ]| always seemed to$4$ the girl to$9$ be strange and
103:028,07['  ]| lonely, especially on$4$ winter afternoons.  She had been
103:028,08['  ]| in$4$ the house, at different periods, as a child; in$4$ those
103:028,09['  ]| days her grandmother lived there.  Then there had 
103:028,10['  ]| been an absence of ten years, followed by$4$ a return to$4$
103:028,11['  ]| Albany before her father's death.  Her grandmother,
103:028,12['  ]| old Mrs%*Archer, had exercised, chiefly within the
103:028,13['  ]| limits of the family, a large hospitality in$4$ the early
103:028,14['  ]| period, and the little girls often spent weeks under
103:028,15['  ]| her roof ~~ weeks of which$6#1$ Isabel had the happiest
103:028,16['  ]| memory.  The manner of life was different from that$6#2$
103:028,17['  ]| of her own home ~~ larger, more plentiful, practically
103:028,18['  ]| more festal; the discipline of the nursery was delightfully
103:028,19['  ]| vague and the opportunity of listening to$4$ the
103:028,20['  ]| conversation of one's elders (which$6#1$ with Isabel was
103:028,21['  ]| a highly-valued pleasure) almost unbounded.  There
103:028,22['  ]| was a constant coming and going; her grandmother's
103:028,23['  ]| sons and daughters and their children appeared to$9$
103:028,24['  ]| be in$4$ the enjoyment of standing invitations to$9$ arrive
103:028,25['  ]| and remain, so$3$ that$3$ the house offered to$4$ a certain
103:028,26['  ]| extent the appearance of a bustling provincial inn
103:028,27['  ]| kept by$4$ a gentle old landlady who$6#1$ sighed a great deal
103:028,28['  ]| and never presented a bill.  Isabel of course knew
103:028,29['  ]| nothing about bills; but even as a child she thought
103:028,30['  ]| her grandmother's home romantic.  There was a covered
103:028,31['  ]| piazza behind it, furnished with a swing which$6#1$ 
103:028,32['  ]| was a source of tremulous interest; and beyond this
103:029,01['  ]| was a long garden, sloping down to$4$ the stable and
103:029,02['  ]| containing peach-trees of barely credible familiarity.
103:029,03['  ]| Isabel had stayed with her grandmother at various
103:029,04['  ]| seasons, but somehow all her visits had a flavour of
103:029,05['  ]| peaches.  On$4$ the other side, across the street, was an
103:029,06['  ]| old house that$6#1$ was called the Dutch*House ~~ a peculiar
103:029,07['  ]| structure dating from the earliest colonial time,
103:029,08['  ]| composed of bricks that$6#1$ had been painted yellow,
103:029,09['  ]| crowned with a gable that$6#1$ was pointed out to$4$ strangers,
103:029,10['  ]| defended by$4$ a rickety wooden paling and standing
103:029,11['  ]| sidewise to$4$ the street.  It was occupied by$4$ a primary
103:029,12['  ]| school for$4$ children of both sexes, kept or rather
103:029,13['  ]| let go, by$4$ a demonstrative lady of whom Isabel's chief
103:029,14['  ]| recollection was that$3$ her hair was fastened with
103:029,15['  ]| strange bedroomy combs at the temples and that$3$ 
103:029,16['  ]| she was the widow of some*one of consequence.  The
103:029,17['  ]| little girl had been offered the opportunity of laying
103:029,18['  ]| a foundation of knowledge in$4$ this establishment; but
103:029,19['  ]| having spent a single day in$4$ it, she had protested
103:029,20['  ]| against its laws and had been allowed to$9$ stay at home,
103:029,21['  ]| where, in$4$ the September days, when the windows of
103:029,22['  ]| the Dutch*House were open, she used to$9$ hear the
103:029,23['  ]| hum of childish voices repeating the multiplication-table
103:029,24['  ]| ~~ an incident in$4$ which$6#1$ the elation of liberty
103:029,25['  ]| and the pain of exclusion were indistinguishably
103:029,26['  ]| mingled.  The foundation of her knowledge was really
103:029,27['  ]| laid in$4$ the idleness of her grandmother's house, where,
103:029,28['  ]| as most of the other inmates were not reading people,
103:029,29['  ]| she had uncontrolled use of a library full of books
103:029,30['  ]| with frontispieces, which$6#1$ she used to$9$ climb upon$4$ a
103:029,31['  ]| chair to$9$ take down.  When she had found one to$4$ her
103:029,32['  ]| taste ~~ she was guided in$4$ the selection chiefly by$4$ the
103:030,01['  ]| frontispiece ~~ she carried it into a mysterious apartment
103:030,02['  ]| which$6#1$ lay beyond the library and which$6#1$ was 
103:030,03['  ]| called, traditionally, no*one knew why, the office.
103:030,04['  ]| Whose office it had been and at what period it had
103:030,05['  ]| flourished, she never learned; it was enough for$4$ her
103:030,06['  ]| that$3$ it contained an echo and a pleasant musty smell
103:030,07['  ]| and that$3$ it was a chamber of disgrace for$4$ old pieces
103:030,08['  ]| of furniture whose infirmities were not always apparent
103:030,09['  ]| (so$3$ that$3$ the disgrace seemed unmerited and
103:030,10['  ]| rendered them victims of injustice) and with which$6#1$, 
103:030,11['  ]| in$4$ the manner of children, she had established relations
103:030,12['  ]| almost human, certainly dramatic.  There was
103:030,13['  ]| an old haircloth sofa in$4$ especial, to$4$ which$6#1$ she had
103:030,14['  ]| confided a hundred childish sorrows.  The place owed
103:030,15['  ]| much of its mysterious melancholy to$4$ the fact that$3$ it
103:030,16['  ]| was properly entered from the second door of the
103:030,17['  ]| house, the door that$6#1$ had been condemned, and that$3$
103:030,18['  ]| it was secured by$4$ bolts which$6#1$ a particularly slender
103:030,19['  ]| little girl found it impossible to$9$ slide.  She knew that$3$
103:030,20['  ]| this silent, motionless portal opened into the street;
103:030,21['  ]| if the sidelights had not been filled with green paper
103:030,22['  ]| she might have looked out upon$4$ the little brown stoop
103:030,23['  ]| and the well-worn brick pavement.  But she had no$2$
103:030,24['  ]| wish to$9$ look out, for$3$ this would have interfered with
103:030,25['  ]| her theory that$3$ there was a strange, unseen place on$4$
103:030,26['  ]| the other side ~~ a place which$6#1$ became to$4$ the child's
103:030,27['  ]| imagination, according to$4$ its different moods, a region
103:030,28['  ]| of delight or of terror.
103:030,29['  ]| It was in$4$ the "office" still that$3$ Isabel was sitting
103:030,30['  ]| on$4$ that$6#2$ melancholy afternoon of early spring which$6#1$ I 
103:030,31['  ]| have just mentioned.  At this time she might have had
103:030,32['  ]| the whole house to$9$ choose from, and the room she had
103:030,01['  ]| selected was the most depressed of its scenes.  She
103:031,02['  ]| had never opened the bolted door nor removed the
103:031,03['  ]| green paper (renewed by$4$ other hands) from its sidelights;
103:031,04['  ]| she had never assured herself that$3$ the vulgar
103:031,05['  ]| street lay beyond.  A crude, cold rain fell heavily; the
103:031,06['  ]| spring-time was indeed an appeal ~~ and it seemed
103:031,07['  ]| a cynical, insincere appeal ~~ to$4$ patience.  Isabel,
103:031,08['  ]| however, gave as little heed as possible to$4$ cosmic
103:031,09['  ]| treacheries; she kept her eyes on$4$ her book and tried
103:031,10['  ]| to$9$ fix her mind.  It had lately occurred to$4$ her that$3$ her
103:031,11['  ]| mind was a good deal of a vagabond, and she had
103:031,12['  ]| spent much ingenuity in$4$ training it to$4$ a military step
103:031,13['  ]| and teaching it to$9$ advance, to$9$ halt, to$9$ retreat, to$9$ perform
103:031,14['  ]| even more complicated manoeuvres, at the word
103:031,15['  ]| of command.  Just now she had given it marching
103:031,16['  ]| orders and it had been trudging over the sandy plains
103:031,17['  ]| of a history of German Thought.  Suddenly she became
103:031,18['  ]| aware of a step very different from her own intellectual 
103:031,19['  ]| pace; she listened a little and perceived that$3$
103:031,20['  ]| some*one was moving in$4$ the library, which$6#1$ communicated
103:031,21['  ]| with the office.  It struck her first as the step
103:031,22['  ]| of a person from whom she was looking for$4$ a visit,
103:031,23['  ]| then almost immediately announced itself as the tread
103:031,24['  ]| of a woman and a stranger ~~ her possible visitor
103:031,25['  ]| being neither.  It had an inquisitive, experimental
103:031,26['  ]| quality which$6#1$ suggested that$3$ it would not stop short
103:031,27['  ]| of the threshold of the office; and in$4$ fact the doorway
103:031,28['  ]| of this apartment was presently occupied by$4$ a 
103:031,29['  ]| lady who$6#1$ paused there and looked very hard at our
103:031,30['  ]| heroine.  She was a plain, elderly woman, dressed in$4$
103:031,31['  ]| a comprehensive waterproof mantle; she had a face
103:031,32['  ]| with a good deal of rather violent point.
103:032,01[G  ]| "Oh," 
103:032,01['  ]| she began, 
103:032,01[G  ]| "is that$6#2$ where you usually sit?"
103:032,02['  ]| She looked about at the heterogeneous chairs and
103:032,03['  ]| tables.
103:032,04[A  ]| "Not when I have visitors," 
103:032,04['  ]| said Isabel, getting
103:032,05['  ]| up$5$ to$9$ receive the intruder.
103:032,06['  ]| She directed their course back to$4$ the library while
103:032,07['  ]| the visitor continued to$9$ look about her.  
103:032,07[G  ]| "You seem
103:032,08[G  ]| to$9$ have plenty of other rooms; they are in$4$ rather better
103:032,09[G  ]| condition.  But everything is immensely worn."
103:032,10[A  ]| "Have you come to$9$ look at the house?" 
103:032,10['  ]| Isabel 
103:032,11['  ]| asked.  
103:032,11[A  ]| "The servant will$1$ show it to$4$ you."
103:032,12[G  ]| "Send her away; I do not want to$9$ buy it.  She has
103:032,13[G  ]| probably gone to$9$ look for$4$ you and is wandering about
103:032,14[G  ]| upstairs; she did not seem at all intelligent.  You had
103:032,15[G  ]| better tell her it is no$2$ matter."  
103:032,15['  ]| And then, since
103:032,16['  ]| the girl stood there hesitating and wondering, this
103:032,17['  ]| unexpected critic said to$4$ her abruptly: 
103:032,17[G  ]| "I suppose
103:032,18[G  ]| you are one of the daughters?"
103:032,19['  ]| Isabel thought she had very strange manners. 
103:032,01[A  ]| "It
103:032,20[A  ]| depends upon$4$ whose daughters you mean."
103:032,21[G  ]| "The late Mr%*Archer's ~~ and my poor sister's."
103:032,22[A  ]| "Ah," 
103:032,22['  ]| said Isabel slowly, 
103:032,22[A  ]| "you must be our crazy
103:032,23[A  ]| Aunt*Lydia!"
103:032,24[G  ]| "Is that$6#2$ what your father told you to$9$ call me?  I am
103:032,25[G  ]| your Aunt*Lydia, but I am not at all crazy: I have not
103:032,26[G  ]| a delusion!  And which$6#2$ of the daughters are you?"
103:032,27[A  ]| "I am the youngest of the three, and my name is
103:032,28[A  ]| Isabel."
103:032,29[G  ]| "Yes; the others are Lilian and Edith.  And are
103:032,30[G  ]| you the prettiest?"
103:032,31[A  ]| "I have not the least idea," 
103:032,31['  ]| said the girl.
103:032,32[G  ]| "I think you must be."  
103:032,32['  ]| And in$4$ this way the aunt
103:033,01['  ]| and the niece made friends.  The aunt had quarrelled
103:033,02['  ]| years before with her brother-in-law, after the death
103:033,03['  ]| of her sister, taking him to$4$ task for$4$ the manner in$4$
103:033,04['  ]| which$6#1$ he brought up$5$ his three girls.  Being a high-tempered
103:033,05['  ]| man he had requested her to$9$ mind her own
103:033,06['  ]| business, and she had taken him at his word.  For$4$
103:033,07['  ]| many years she held no$2$ communication with him and
103:033,08['  ]| after his death had addressed not a word to$4$ his daughters,
103:033,09['  ]| who$6#1$ had been bred in$4$ that$6#2$ disrespectful view
103:033,10['  ]| of her which$6#1$ we have just seen Isabel betray.  Mrs%*Touchett's
103:033,11['  ]| behaviour was, as usual, perfectly deliberate.
103:033,12['  ]| She intended to$9$ go to$4$ America to$9$ look after her
103:033,13['  ]| investments (with which$6#1$ her husband, in$4$ spite of his
103:033,14['  ]| great financial position, had nothing to$9$ do) and
103:033,15['  ]| would take advantage of this opportunity to$9$ enquire
103:033,16['  ]| into the condition of her nieces.  There was no$2$ need of
103:033,17['  ]| writing, for$3$ she should attach no$2$ importance to$4$ any
103:033,18['  ]| account of them she should elicit by$4$ letter; she believed,
103:033,19['  ]| always, in$4$ seeing for$4$ one's self.  Isabel found,
103:033,20['  ]| however, that$3$ she knew a good deal about them, and
103:033,21['  ]| knew about the marriage of the two elder girls; knew
103:033,22['  ]| that$3$ their poor father had left very little money, but
103:033,23['  ]| that$3$ the house in$4$ Albany, which$6#1$ had passed into his
103:033,24['  ]| hands, was to$9$ be sold for$4$ their benefit; knew, finally,
103:033,25['  ]| that$3$ Edmund*Ludlow, Lilian's husband, had taken
103:033,26['  ]| upon$4$ himself to$9$ attend to$4$ this matter, in$4$ consideration
103:033,27['  ]| of which$6#1$ the young couple, who$6#1$ had come to$4$ Albany
103:033,28['  ]| during Mr%*Archer's illness, were remaining there for$4$
103:033,29['  ]| the present and, as well as Isabel herself, occupying
103:033,30['  ]| the old place.
103:033,31[G  ]| "How much money do you expect for$4$ it?" 
103:033,31['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett
103:033,32['  ]| asked of her companion, who$6#1$ had brought
103:034,01['  ]| her to$9$ sit in$4$ the front parlour, which$6#1$ she had inspected
103:034,02['  ]| without enthusiasm.
103:034,03[A  ]| "I have not the least idea," 
103:034,03['  ]| said the girl.
103:034,04[G  ]| "That$6#2$ is the second time you have said that$6#2$ to$4$ me,"
103:034,05['  ]| her aunt rejoined.  
103:034,05[G  ]| "And yet you do not look at all
103:034,06[G  ]| stupid."
103:034,07[A  ]| "I am not stupid; but I do not know anything about
103:034,08[A  ]| money."
103:034,09[G  ]| "Yes, that$6#2$ is the way you were brought up$5$ ~~ as if
103:034,10[G  ]| you were to$9$ inherit a million.  What have you in$4$ point
103:034,11[G  ]| of fact inherited?"
103:034,12[A  ]| "I really can not tell you.  You must ask Edmund
103:034,13[A  ]| and Lilian; they will$1$ be back in$4$ half an hour."
103:034,14[G  ]| "In$4$ Florence we should call it a very bad house,"
103:034,15['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett; 
103:034,15[G  ]| "but here, I dare say, it will$1$
103:034,16[G  ]| bring a high price.  It ought to$9$ make a considerable
103:034,17[G  ]| sum for$4$ each of you.  In$4$ addition to$4$ that$6#2$ you \must\
103:034,18[G  ]| have something else; it is most extraordinary your
103:034,19[G  ]| not knowing.  The position is of value, and they will$1$
103:034,20[G  ]| probably pull it down and make a row of shops.  I
103:034,21[G  ]| wonder you do not do that$6#2$ yourself; you might let the 
103:034,22[G  ]| shops to$4$ great advantage."
103:034,23['  ]| Isabel stared; the idea of letting shops was new to$4$
103:034,24['  ]| her.  
103:034,24['  ]| "I hope they will$1$ not pull it down," 
103:034,24['  ]| she said;
103:034,25[A  ]| "I am extremely fond of it."
103:034,26[G  ]| "I do not see what makes you fond of it; your
103:034,27[G  ]| father died here."
103:034,28[A  ]| "Yes; but I do not dislike it for$4$ that$6#2$," 
103:034,28['  ]| the girl
103:034,29['  ]| rather strangely returned.  
103:034,29[A  ]| "I like$1$ places in$4$ which$6#1$
103:034,30[A  ]| things have happened ~~ even if they are sad things.
103:034,31[A  ]| A great many people have died here; the place has
103:034,32[A  ]| been full of life."
103:035,01[G  ]| "Is that$6#2$ what you call being full of life?"
103:035,02[A  ]| "I mean full of experience ~~ of people's feelings
103:035,03[A  ]| and sorrows.  And not of their sorrows only, for$3$ I have
103:035,04[A  ]| been very happy here as a child."
103:035,05[G  ]| "You should go to$4$ Florence if you like$1$ houses in$4$
103:035,06[G  ]| which$6#1$ things have happened ~~ especially deaths.
103:035,07[G  ]| I live in$4$ an old palace in$4$ which$6#1$ three people have
103:035,08[G  ]| been murdered; three that$6#1$ were known and I do not
103:035,09[G  ]| know how many more besides."
103:035,10[A  ]| "In$4$ an old palace?" 
103:035,10['  ]| Isabel repeated.
103:035,11[G  ]| "Yes, my dear; a very different affair from this.
103:035,12[G  ]| This is a very bourgeois."
103:035,13['  ]| Isabel felt some emotion, for$3$ she had always
103:035,14['  ]| thought highly of her grandmother's house.  But the
103:035,15['  ]| emotion was of a kind which$6#1$ led her to$9$ say: 
103:035,15[A  ]| "I should
103:035,16[A  ]| like$1$ very much to$9$ go to$4$ Florence."
103:035,17[G  ]| "Well, if you will$1$ be very good, and do everything
103:035,18[G  ]| I tell you I will$1$ take you there," 
103:035,18['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett declared.
103:035,19['  ]| Our young woman's emotion deepened; she flushed
103:035,20['  ]| a little and smiled at her aunt in$4$ silence.  
103:035,20[A  ]| "Do everything
103:035,21[A  ]| you tell me?  I do not think I can promise that$6#2$."
103:035,22[G  ]| "No$7$, you do not look like$4$ a person of that$6#2$ sort.
103:035,23[G  ]| You are fond of your own way; but it is not for$4$ me
103:035,24[G  ]| to$9$ blame you."
103:035,25[A  ]| "And yet, to$9$ go to$4$ Florence," 
103:035,25['  ]| the girl exclaimed
103:035,26['  ]| in$4$ a moment, 
103:035,26[A  ]| "I would promise almost anything!"
103:035,27['  ]| Edmund and Lilian were slow to$9$ return, and Mrs%*Touchett
103:035,28['  ]| had an hour's uninterrupted talk with her
103:035,29['  ]| niece, who$6#1$ found her a strange and interesting figure:
103:035,30['  ]| a figure essentially ~~ almost the first she had ever
103:035,31['  ]| met.  She was as eccentric as Isabel had always
103:035,32['  ]| supposed; and hitherto, whenever the girl had heard
103:036,01['  ]| people described as eccentric, she had thought of
103:036,02['  ]| them as offensive or alarming.  The term had always 
103:036,03['  ]| suggested to$4$ her something grotesque and even sinister.
103:036,04['  ]| But her aunt made it a matter of high but easy
103:036,05['  ]| irony, or comedy, and led her to$9$ ask herself 
103:036,05@a   | if the
103:036,06@a   | common tone, which$6#1$ was all she had known, had
103:036,07@a   | ever been as interesting.  
103:036,07['  ]| No*one certainly had on$4$
103:036,08['  ]| any occasion so$5#2$ held her as this little thin-lipped,
103:036,09['  ]| bright-eyed, foreign-looking woman, who$6#1$ retrieved
103:036,10['  ]| an insignificant appearance by$4$ a distinguished manner
103:036,11['  ]| and, sitting there in$4$ a well-worn waterproof,
103:036,12['  ]| talked with striking familiarity of the courts of Europe.
103:036,13['  ]| There was nothing flighty about Mrs%*Touchett,
103:036,14['  ]| but she recognised no$2$ social superiors, and, judging
103:036,15['  ]| the great ones of the earth in$4$ a way that$6#1$ spoke
103:036,16['  ]| of this, enjoyed the consciousness of making an impression
103:036,17['  ]| on$4$ a candid and susceptible mind.  Isabel at
103:036,18['  ]| first had answered a good many questions, and it
103:036,19['  ]| was from her answers apparently that$3$ Mrs%*Touchett
103:036,20['  ]| derived a high opinion of her intelligence.  But
103:036,21['  ]| after this she had asked a good many, and her aunt's
103:036,22['  ]| answers, whatever turn they took, struck her as food
103:036,23['  ]| for$4$ deep reflexion.  Mrs%*Touchett waited for$4$ the
103:036,24['  ]| return of her other niece as long as she thought reasonable,
103:036,25['  ]| but as at six o'clock Mrs%*Ludlow had not
103:036,26['  ]| come in$5$ she prepared to$9$ take her departure.
103:036,27[G  ]| "Your sister must be a great gossip.  Is she accustomed 
103:036,28[G  ]| to$4$ staying out so$5#1$ many hours?"
103:036,29[A  ]| "You have been out almost as long as she," 
103:036,29['  ]| Isabel
103:036,30['  ]| replied; 
103:036,30[A  ]| "she can have left the house but a short
103:036,31[A  ]| time before you came in$5$."
103:036,32['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett looked at the girl without resentment;
103:037,01['  ]| she appeared to$9$ enjoy a bold retort and to$9$ be
103:037,02['  ]| disposed to$9$ be gracious.  
103:037,02[G  ]| "Perhaps she has not had
103:037,03[G  ]| so$5#1$ good an excuse as I.  Tell her at any rate that$3$ she
103:037,04[G  ]| must come and see me this evening at that$6#2$ horrid
103:037,05[G  ]| hotel.  She may bring her husband if she likes, but
103:037,06[G  ]| she need not bring you.  I shall see plenty of you
103:037,07[G  ]| later."
104:038,01['  ]| Mrs%*Ludlow was the eldest of the three sisters,
104:038,02['  ]| and was usually thought the most sensible; the classification
104:038,03['  ]| being in$4$ general that$3$ Lilian was the practical
104:038,04['  ]| one, Edith the beauty and Isabel the "intellectual"
104:038,05['  ]| superior.  Mrs%*Keyes, the second of the group, was
104:038,06['  ]| the wife of an officer of the United*States*Engineers,
104:038,07['  ]| and as our history is not further concerned with her
104:038,08['  ]| it will$1$ suffice that$3$ she was indeed very pretty and that$3$
104:038,09['  ]| she formed the ornament of those various military
104:038,10['  ]| stations, chiefly in$4$ the unfashionable West, to$4$ which$6#1$, 
104:038,11['  ]| to$4$ her deep chagrin, her husband was successively
104:038,12['  ]| relegated.  Lilian had married a New*York lawyer,
104:038,13['  ]| a young man with a loud voice and an enthusiasm for$4$
104:038,14['  ]| his profession; the match was not brilliant, any more
104:038,15['  ]| than Edith's, but Lilian had occasionally been spoken
104:038,16['  ]| of as a young woman who$6#1$ might be thankful to$9$ marry
104:038,17['  ]| at all ~~ she was so$5#1$ much plainer than her sisters.
104:038,18['  ]| She was, however, very happy, and now, as the mother
104:038,19['  ]| of two peremptory little boys and the mistress
104:038,20['  ]| of a wedge of brown stone violently driven into Fifty-third
104:038,21['  ]| Street, seemed to$9$ exult in$4$ her condition as in$4$ a
104:038,22['  ]| bold escape.  She was short and solid, and her claim
104:038,23['  ]| to$4$ figure was questioned, but she was conceded presence,
104:038,24['  ]| though not majesty; 
104:038,24@x   | she had 
104:038,24['  ]| moreover, as people
104:038,25['  ]| said, 
104:038,25@x   | improved since her marriage, 
104:038,25['  ]| and the two
104:038,26['  ]| things in$4$ life of which$6#1$ she was most distinctly conscious
104:038,27['  ]| were her husband's force in$4$ argument and her
104:039,01['  ]| sister Isabel's originality.  
104:039,01[V  ]| "I have never kept up$5$ with
104:039,02[V  ]| Isabel ~~ it would have taken \all\ my time," 
104:039,02['  ]| she had
104:039,03['  ]| often remarked; in$4$ spite of which$6#1$, however, she held
104:039,04['  ]| her rather wistfully in$4$ sight; watching her as a motherly
104:039,05['  ]| spaniel might watch a free greyhound.  
104:039,05[V  ]| "I
104:039,06[V  ]| want to$9$ see her safely married ~~ that$6#2$ is what I want
104:039,07[V  ]| to$9$ see,"
104:039,07['  ]| she frequently noted to$4$ her husband.
104:039,08[W  ]| "Well, I must say I should have no$2$ particular
104:039,09[W  ]| desire to$9$ marry her,"  
104:039,09['  ]| Edmund*Ludlow was accustomed
104:039,10['  ]| to$9$ answer in$4$ an extremely audible tone.
104:039,11[V  ]| "I know you say that$6#2$ for$4$ argument; you always
104:039,12[V  ]| take the opposite ground.  I do not see what you have
104:039,13[V  ]| against her except that$3$ she is so$5#1$ original."
104:039,14[W  ]| "Well, I do not like$1$ originals; I like$1$ translations,"
104:039,15['  ]| Mr%*Ludlow had more than once replied.  
104:039,15[W  ]| "Isabel is
104:039,16[W  ]| written in$4$ a foreign tongue.  I can not make her out.
104:039,17[W  ]| She ought to$9$ marry an Armenian or a Portuguese."
104:039,18[V  ]| "That$6#2$ is just what I am afraid she will$1$ do!" 
104:039,18['  ]| cried
104:039,19['  ]| Lilian, who$6#1$ thought Isabel capable of anything.
104:039,20['  ]| She listened with great interest to$4$ the girl's account
104:039,21['  ]| of Mrs%*Touchett's appearance and in$4$ the 
104:039,22['  ]| evening prepared to$9$ comply with their aunt's commands.
104:039,23['  ]| Of what Isabel then said no$2$ report has remained,
104:039,24['  ]| but her sister's words had doubtless prompted
104:039,25['  ]| a word spoken to$4$ her husband as the two were making
104:039,26['  ]| ready for$4$ their visit.  
104:039,26[V  ]| "I do hope immensely she will$1$
104:039,27[V  ]| do something handsome for$4$ Isabel; she has evidently
104:039,28[V  ]| taken a great fancy to$4$ her."
104:039,29[W  ]| "What is it you wish her to$9$ do?" 
104:039,29['  ]| Edmund*Ludlow
104:039,30['  ]| asked.  
104:039,30[W  ]| "Make her a big present?"
104:039,31[V  ]| "No$7$ indeed; nothing of the sort.  But take an 
104:039,32[V  ]| interest in$4$ her ~~ sympathise with her.  She is evidently
104:040,01[V  ]| just the sort of person to$9$ appreciate her.  She
104:040,02[V  ]| has lived so$5#1$ much in$4$ foreign society; she told Isabel all
104:040,03[V  ]| about it.  You know you have always thought Isabel
104:040,04[V  ]| rather foreign."
104:040,05[W  ]| "You want her to$9$ give her a little foreign sympathy,
104:040,06[W  ]| eh?  Do not you think she gets enough at
104:040,07[W  ]| home?"
104:040,08[V  ]| "Well, she ought to$9$ go abroad," 
104:040,08['  ]| said Mrs%*Ludlow.
104:040,09[V  ]| "She is just the person to$9$ go abroad."
104:040,10[W  ]| "And you want the old lady to$9$ take her, is that$6#2$
104:040,11[W  ]| it?"
104:040,12[V  ]| "She has offered to$9$ take her ~~ she is dying to$9$ have
104:040,13[V  ]| Isabel go.  But what I want her to$9$ do when she gets
104:040,14[V  ]| her there is to$9$ give her all the advantages.  I am sure
104:040,15[V  ]| all we have got to$9$ do," 
104:040,15['  ]| said Mrs%*Ludlow, 
104:040,15[V  ]| "is to$9$ give
104:040,16[V  ]| her a chance."
104:040,17[W  ]| "A chance for$4$ what?"
104:040,18[V  ]| "A chance to$9$ develop."
104:040,19[W  ]| "Oh Moses!" 
104:040,19['  ]| Edmund*Ludlow exclaimed.  
104:040,19[W  ]| "I 
104:040,20[W  ]| hope she is not going to$9$ develop any more!"
104:040,21[V  ]| "If I were not sure you only said that$6#2$ for$4$ argument
104:040,22[V  ]| I should feel very badly," 
104:040,22['  ]| his wife replied.  
104:040,22[V  ]| "But you
104:040,23[V  ]| know you love her."
104:040,24[W  ]| "\Do\ you know I love you?" 
104:040,24['  ]| the young man said,
104:040,25['  ]| jocosely, to$4$ Isabel a little later, while he brushed his
104:040,26['  ]| hat.
104:040,27[A  ]| "I am sure I do not care whether you do or not!"
104:040,28['  ]| exclaimed the girl; whose voice and smile, however,
104:040,29['  ]| were less haughty than her words.
104:040,30[V  ]| "Oh, she feels so$5#1$ grand since Mrs%*Touchett's
104:040,31[V  ]| visit," 
104:040,31['  ]| said her sister.
104:040,32['  ]| But Isabel challenged this assertion with a good
104:041,01['  ]| deal of seriousness.  
104:041,01[A  ]| "You must not say that$6#2$, Lily.
104:041,02[A  ]| I do not feel grand at all."
104:041,03[V  ]| "I am sure there is no$2$ harm," 
104:041,03['  ]| said the conciliatory
104:041,04['  ]| Lily.
104:041,05[A  ]| "Ah, but there is nothing in$4$ Mrs%*Touchett's visit
104:041,06[A  ]| to$9$ make one feel grand."
104:041,07[W  ]| "Oh," 
104:041,07['  ]| exclaimed Ludlow, 
104:041,07[W  ]| "she is grander than
104:041,08[W  ]| ever!"
104:041,09[A  ]| "Whenever I feel grand," 
104:041,09['  ]| said the girl, 
104:041,09[A  ]| "it will$1$ be
104:041,10[A  ]| for$4$ a better reason."
104:041,11['  ]| Whether she felt grand or no$7$, she at any rate felt
104:041,12['  ]| different, felt as if something had happened to$4$ her.
104:041,13['  ]| Left to$4$ herself for$4$ the evening she sat a while under
104:041,14['  ]| the lamp, her hands empty, her usual avocations
104:041,15['  ]| unheeded.  Then she rose and moved about the 
104:041,16['  ]| room, and from one room to$4$ another, preferring the
104:041,17['  ]| places where the vague lamplight expired.  She was
104:041,18['  ]| restless and even agitated; at moments she trembled
104:041,19['  ]| a little.  
104:041,19@a   | The importance of what had happened was
104:041,20@a   | out of proportion to$4$ its appearance; there had really
104:041,21@a   | been a change in$4$ her life.  What it would bring with
104:041,22@a   | it was as yet extremely indefinite; 
104:041,22['  ]| but Isabel was in$4$
104:041,23['  ]| a situation that$6#1$ gave a value to$4$ any change.  
104:041,23@a   | She had
104:041,24@a   | a desire to$9$ leave the past behind her and, 
104:041,24['  ]| as she said
104:041,25['  ]| to$4$ herself, 
104:041,25@a   | to$9$ begin afresh.  
104:041,25['  ]| This desire indeed was not
104:041,26['  ]| a birth of the present occasion; it was as familiar as
104:041,27['  ]| the sound of the rain upon$4$ the window and it had 
104:041,28['  ]| led to$4$ her beginning afresh a great many times.  She
104:041,29['  ]| closed her eyes as she sat in$4$ one of the dusky corners
104:041,30['  ]| of the quiet parlour; but it was not with a desire for$4$
104:041,31['  ]| dozing forgetfulness.  It was on$4$ the contrary because
104:041,32['  ]| she felt too wide-eyed and wished to$9$ check the sense
104:042,01['  ]| of seeing too many things at once.  Her imagination
104:042,02['  ]| was by$4$ habit ridiculously active; when the door was
104:042,03['  ]| not open it jumped out of the window.  She was not
104:042,04['  ]| accustomed indeed to$9$ keep it behind bolts; and at
104:042,05['  ]| important moments, when she would have been thankful
104:042,06['  ]| to$9$ make use of her judgement alone, she paid the
104:042,07['  ]| penalty of having given undue encouragement to$4$ the 
104:042,08['  ]| faculty of seeing without judging.  At present, with
104:042,09['  ]| her sense that$3$ the note of change had been struck,
104:042,10['  ]| came gradually a host of images of the things she was
104:042,11['  ]| leaving behind her.  The years and hours of her life
104:042,12['  ]| came back to$4$ her, and for$4$ a long time, in$4$ a stillness
104:042,13['  ]| broken only by$4$ the ticking of the big bronze clock,
104:042,14['  ]| she passed them in$4$ review.  
104:042,14@a   | It had been a very happy 
104:042,15@a   | life and she had been a very fortunate person ~~ 
104:042,15['  ]| this
104:042,16['  ]| was the truth that$6#1$ seemed to$9$ emerge most vividly.
104:042,17@a   | She had had the best of everything, and in$4$ a world
104:042,18@a   | in$4$ which$6#1$ the circumstances of so$5#1$ many people made
104:042,19@a   | them unenviable it was an advantage never to$9$ have
104:042,20@a   | known anything particularly unpleasant.  
104:042,20['  ]| It appeared
104:042,21['  ]| to$4$ Isabel that$3$ 
104:042,21@a   | the unpleasant had been even too absent
104:042,22@a   | from her knowledge, 
104:042,22['  ]| for$3$ she had gathered from
104:042,23['  ]| her acquaintance with literature that$3$ it was often a
104:042,24['  ]| source of interest and even of instruction.  Her father
104:042,25['  ]| had kept it away from her ~~ her handsome, much-loved
104:042,26['  ]| father, who$6#1$ always  had such an aversion to$4$ it.
104:042,27['  ]| It was a great felicity to$9$ have been his daughter;
104:042,28['  ]| Isabel rose even to$4$ pride in$4$ her parentage.  Since his
104:042,29['  ]| death she had seemed to$9$ see him as turning his braver
104:042,30['  ]| side to$4$ his children and as not having managed to$9$
104:042,31['  ]| ignore the ugly quite so$5#1$ much in$4$ practice as in$4$ aspiration.
104:042,32['  ]| But this only made her tenderness for$4$ him
104:043,01['  ]| greater; it was scarcely even painful to$9$ have to$9$ suppose
104:043,02['  ]| him too generous, too good-natured, too indifferent
104:043,03['  ]| to$4$ sordid considerations.  Many persons had
104:043,04['  ]| held that$3$ he carried this indifference too far, especially
104:043,05['  ]| the large number of those to$4$ whom he owed
104:043,06['  ]| money.  Of their opinions Isabel was never very definitely
104:043,07['  ]| informed; but it may interest the reader to$9$
104:043,08['  ]| know that$3$, while they had recognised in$4$ the late
104:043,09['  ]| Mr%*Archer a remarkably handsome head and a very
104:043,10['  ]| taking manner (indeed, as one of them had said, 
104:043,10@x   | he
104:043,11@x   | was always taking something), 
104:043,11['  ]| they had declared
104:043,12['  ]| that$3$ 
104:043,12@x   | he was making a very poor use of his life.  He
104:043,13@x   | had squandered a substantial fortune, he had been
104:043,14@x   | deplorably convivial, he was known to$9$ have gambled
104:043,15@x   | freely.  
104:043,15['  ]| A few very harsh critics went so$5#1$ far as to$9$ say
104:043,16['  ]| that$3$ 
104:043,16@x   | he had not even brought up$5$ his daughters.  They
104:043,17@x   | had had no$2$ regular education and no$2$ permanent
104:043,18@x   | home; they had been at once spoiled and neglected;
104:043,19@x   | they had lived with nursemaids and governesses
104:043,20@x   | (usually very bad ones) or had been sent to$4$ superficial
104:043,21@x   | schools, kept by$4$ the French, from which$6#1$, at the
104:043,22@x   | end of a month, they had been removed in$4$ tears.
104:043,23['  ]| This view of the matter would have excited Isabel's
104:043,24['  ]| indignation, for$3$ to$4$ her own sense 
104:043,24@a   | her opportunities had
104:043,25@a   | been large.  
104:043,25['  ]| Even when her father had left his daughters
104:043,26['  ]| for$4$ three months at Neufchatel with a French
104:043,27['  ]| \bonne\ who$6#1$ had eloped with a Russian nobleman staying
104:043,28['  ]| at the same hotel ~~ even in$4$ this irregular situation
104:043,29['  ]| (an incident of the girl's eleventh year) she had
104:043,30['  ]| been neither frightened nor ashamed, but had thought
104:043,31['  ]| it a romantic episode in$4$ a liberal education.  Her
104:043,32['  ]| father had a large way of looking at life, of which$6#1$ his
104:044,01['  ]| restlessness and even his occasional incoherency of
104:044,02['  ]| conduct had been only a proof.  He wished his daughters,
104:044,03['  ]| even as children, to$9$ see as much of the world as
104:044,04['  ]| possible; and it was for$4$ this purpose that$3$, before
104:044,05['  ]| Isabel was fourteen, he had transported them three
104:044,06['  ]| times across the Atlantic, giving them on$4$ each occasion,
104:044,07['  ]| however, but a few month's view of the subject
104:044,08['  ]| proposed: a course which$6#1$ had whetted our heroine's
104:044,09['  ]| curiosity without enabling her to$9$ satisfy it.  She ought
104:044,10['  ]| to$9$ have been a partisan of her father, for$3$ she was the
104:044,11['  ]| member of his trio who$6#1$ most "made up$5$" to$4$ him for$4$
104:044,12['  ]| the disagreeables he did not mention.  In$4$ his last days
104:044,13['  ]| his general willingness to$9$ take leave of a world in$4$
104:044,14['  ]| which$6#1$ the difficulty of doing as one liked appeared
104:044,15['  ]| to$9$ increase as one grew older had been sensibly modified
104:044,16['  ]| by$4$ the pain of separation from his clever, his
104:044,17['  ]| superior, his remarkable girl.  Later, when the journeys
104:044,18['  ]| to$4$ Europe ceased, he still had shown his children
104:044,19['  ]| all sorts of indulgence, and if he had been troubled
104:044,20['  ]| about money-matters nothing ever disturbed their
104:044,21['  ]| irreflective consciousness of many possessions.  Isabel,
104:044,22['  ]| though she danced very well, had not the recollection
104:044,23['  ]| of having been in$4$ New York a successful member of
104:044,24['  ]| the choregraphic circle; 
104:044,24@x   | her sister Edith was, 
104:044,24['  ]| as every*one
104:044,25['  ]| said, 
104:044,25@x   | so$5#1$ very much more fetching.  
104:044,25['  ]| Edith was so$5#1$
104:044,26['  ]| striking an example of success that$3$ Isabel could have
104:044,27['  ]| no$2$ illusions as to$4$ what constituted this advantage, or
104:044,28['  ]| as to$4$ the limits of her own power to$9$ frisk and jump
104:044,29['  ]| and shriek ~~ above all with rightness of effect.  Nineteen
104:044,30['  ]| persons out of twenty (including the younger
104:044,31['  ]| sister herself) pronounced Edith infinitely the prettier
104:044,32['  ]| of the two; but the twentieth, besides reversing this
104:045,01['  ]| judgement, had the entertainment of thinking all the 
104:045,02['  ]| others aesthetic vulgarians.  Isabel had in$4$ the depths 
104:045,03['  ]| of her nature an even more unquenchable desire to$9$ 
104:045,04['  ]| please than Edith; but the depths of this young lady's
104:045,05['  ]| nature were a very out-of-the-way place, between
104:045,06['  ]| which$6#1$ and the surface communication was interrrupted
104:045,07['  ]| by$4$ a dozen capricious forces.  She saw the young men
104:045,08['  ]| who$6#1$ came in$4$ large numbers to$9$ see her sister; but as
104:045,09['  ]| a general thing they were afraid of her; they had a
104:045,10['  ]| belief that$3$ some special preparation was required for$4$
104:045,11['  ]| talking with her.  Her reputation of reading a great
104:045,12['  ]| deal hung about her like$4$ the cloudy envelope of a 
104:045,13['  ]| goddess in$4$ an epic; it was supposed to$9$ engender difficult
104:045,14['  ]| questions and to$9$ keep the conversation at a low
104:045,15['  ]| temperature.  The poor girl liked to$9$ be thought clever,
104:045,16['  ]| but she hated to$9$ be thought bookish; she used to$9$ read
104:045,17['  ]| in$4$ secret and, though her memory was excellent, to$9$
104:045,18['  ]| abstain from showy reference.  She had a great desire
104:045,19['  ]| for$4$ knowledge, but she really preferred almost any
104:045,20['  ]| source of information to$4$ the printed page; she had
104:045,21['  ]| an immense curiosity about life and was constantly
104:045,22['  ]| staring and wondering.  She carried within herself a
104:045,23['  ]| great fund of life, and her deepest enjoyment was to$9$ 
104:045,24['  ]| feel the continuity between the movements of her own
104:045,25['  ]| soul and the agitations of the world.  For$4$ this reason
104:045,26['  ]| she was fond of seeing great crowds and large stretches
104:045,27['  ]| of country, of reading about revolutions and wars,
104:045,28['  ]| of looking at historical pictures ~~ a class of efforts
104:045,29['  ]| as to$4$ which$6#1$ she had often committed the conscious
104:045,30['  ]| solecism of forgiving them much bad painting for$4$ the
104:045,31['  ]| sake of the subject.  While the Civil War went on$5$ she
104:045,32['  ]| was still a very young girl; but she passed months of
104:046,01['  ]| this long period in$4$ a state of almost passionate excitement,
104:046,02['  ]| in$4$ which$6#1$ she felt herself at times (to$4$ her
104:046,03['  ]| extreme confusion) stirred almost indiscriminately
104:046,04['  ]| by$4$ the valour of either army.  Of course the circumspection
104:046,05['  ]| of suspicious swains had never gone the
104:046,06['  ]| length of making her a social proscript; for$3$ the number
104:046,07['  ]| of those whose hearts, as they approached her,
104:046,08['  ]| beat only just fast enough to$9$ remind them they had
104:046,09['  ]| heads as well, had kept her unacquainted with the
104:046,10['  ]| supreme disciplines of her sex and age.  She had had
104:046,11['  ]| everything a girl could have: kindness, admiration,
104:046,12['  ]| bonbons, bouquets, the sense of exclusion from none
104:046,13['  ]| of the privileges of the world she lived in$4$, abundant
104:046,14['  ]| opportunity for$4$ dancing, plenty of new dresses, the
104:046,15['  ]| London \Spectator\, the latest publications, the music
104:046,16['  ]| of Gounod, the poetry of Browning, the prose of
104:046,17['  ]| George*Eliot.
104:046,18['  ]| These things now, as memory played over them,
104:046,19['  ]| resolved themselves into a multitude of scenes and
104:046,20['  ]| figures.  Forgotten things came back to$4$ her; many
104:046,21['  ]| others, which$6#1$ she had lately thought of great moment,
104:046,22['  ]| dropped out of sight.  The result was kaleidoscopic,
104:046,23['  ]| but the movement of the instrument was checked at
104:046,24['  ]| last by$4$ the servant's coming in$5$ with the name of a 
104:046,25['  ]| gentleman.  The name of the gentleman was Caspar*Goodwood;
104:046,26['  ]| he was a straight young man from Boston,
104:046,27['  ]| who$6#1$ had known Miss%*Archer for$4$ the last twelve-month
104:046,28['  ]| and who$6#1$, thinking her the most beautiful 
104:046,29['  ]| young woman of her time, had pronounced the time,
104:046,30['  ]| according to$4$ the rule I have hinted at, a foolish period
104:046,31['  ]| of history.  He sometimes wrote to$4$ her and had
104:046,32['  ]| within a week or two written from New York.  She
104:047,01['  ]| had thought it very possible he would come in$5$ ~~ had
104:047,02['  ]| indeed all the rainy day been vaguely expecting him.
104:047,03['  ]| Now that$3$ she learned he was there, nevertheless, she
104:047,04['  ]| felt no$2$ eagerness to$9$ receive him.  He was the finest
104:047,05['  ]| young man she had ever seen, was indeed quite a
104:047,06['  ]| splendid young man; he inspired her with a sentiment
104:047,07['  ]| of high, of rare respect.  She had never felt equally
104:047,08['  ]| moved to$4$ it by$4$ any other person.  He was supposed
104:047,09['  ]| by$4$ the world in$4$ general to$9$ wish to$9$ marry her, but this
104:047,10['  ]| of course was between themselves.  It at least may be
104:047,11['  ]| affirmed that$3$ he had travelled from New*York to$4$ 
104:047,12['  ]| Albany expressly to$9$ see her; having learned in$4$ the
104:047,13['  ]| former city, where he was spending a few days and
104:047,14['  ]| where he had hoped to$9$ find her, that$3$ she was still at
104:047,15['  ]| the State capital.  Isabel delayed for$4$ some minutes
104:047,16['  ]| to$9$ go to$4$ him; she moved about the room with a new
104:047,17['  ]| sense of complications.  But at last she presented herself
104:047,18['  ]| and found him standing near the lamp.  He was
104:047,19['  ]| tall, strong and somewhat stiff; he was also lean and
104:047,20['  ]| brown.  He was not romantically, he was much rather
104:047,21['  ]| obscurely, handsome; but his physiognomy had an
104:047,22['  ]| air of requesting your attention, which$6#1$ it rewarded
104:047,23['  ]| according to$4$ the charm you found in$4$ blue eyes of
104:047,24['  ]| remarkable fixedness, the eyes of a complexion other
104:047,25['  ]| than his own, and a jaw of the somewhat angular
104:047,26['  ]| mould which$6#1$ is supposed to$9$ bespeak resolution.  Isabel 
104:047,27['  ]| said to$4$ herself that$3$ 
104:047,27@a   | it bespoke resolution to-night;
104:047,28['  ]| in$4$ spite of which$6#1$, in$4$ half an hour, Caspar*Goodwood,
104:047,29['  ]| who$6#1$ had arrived hopeful as well as resolute, took his
104:047,30['  ]| way back to$4$ his lodging with the feeling of a man defeated.
104:047,31['  ]| He was not, it may be added, a man weakly
104:047,32['  ]| to$9$ accept defeat.
105:048,01['  ]| Ralph*Touchett was a philosopher, but nevertheless
105:048,02['  ]| he knocked at his mother's door (at a quarter to$4$ 
105:048,03['  ]| seven) with a good deal of eagerness.  Even philosophers
105:048,04['  ]| have their preferences, and it must be admitted
105:048,05['  ]| that$3$ of his progenitors his father ministered most to$4$ 
105:048,06['  ]| his sense of the sweetness of filial dependence.  
105:048,06@b   | His
105:048,07@b   | father, 
105:048,07['  ]| as he had often said to$4$ himself, 
105:048,07@b   | was the more
105:048,08@b   | motherly; his mother, on$4$ the other hand, was paternal,
105:048,09@b   | and even, according to$4$ the slang of the day, gubernatorial.
105:048,10['  ]| She was nevertheless very fond of her only
105:048,11['  ]| child and had always insisted on$4$ his spending three
105:048,12['  ]| months of the year with her.  Ralph rendered perfect
105:048,13['  ]| justice to$4$ her affection and knew that$3$ in$4$ her thoughts
105:048,14['  ]| and her thoroughly arranged and servanted life his
105:048,15['  ]| turn always came after the other nearest subjects of
105:048,16['  ]| her solicitude, the various punctualities of performance
105:048,17['  ]| of the workers of her will$0$.  He found her completely
105:048,18['  ]| dressed for$4$ dinner, but she embraced her boy
105:048,19['  ]| with her gloved hands and made him sit on$4$ the sofa
105:048,20['  ]| beside her.  She enquired scrupulously about her
105:048,21['  ]| husband's health and about the young man's own,
105:048,22['  ]| and, receiving no$2$ very brilliant account of either, remarked
105:048,23['  ]| that$3$ 
105:048,23@g   | she was more than ever convinced of
105:048,24@g   | her wisdom in$4$ not exposing herself to$4$ the English
105:048,25@g   | climate.  In$4$ this case she also might have given way.
105:048,26['  ]| Ralph smiled at the idea of his mother's giving way,
105:048,27['  ]| but made no$2$ point of reminding her that$3$ his own
105:049,01['  ]| infirmity was not the result of the English climate,
105:049,02['  ]| from which$6#1$ he absented himself for$4$ a considerable
105:049,03['  ]| part of each year.
105:049,04['  ]| He had been a very small boy when his father,
105:049,05['  ]| Daniel*Tracy*Touchett, a native of Rutland, in$4$ the
105:049,06['  ]| State of Vermont, came to$4$ England as subordinate 
105:049,07['  ]| partner in$4$ a banking-house where some ten years
105:049,08['  ]| later he gained preponderant control.  Daniel*Touchett
105:049,09['  ]| saw before him a life-long residence in$4$ his adopted
105:049,10['  ]| country, of which$6#1$, from the first, he took a simple,
105:049,11['  ]| sane and accommodating view.  
105:049,11@f   | But, 
105:049,11['  ]| as he said to$4$ 
105:049,12['  ]| himself, 
105:049,12@f   | he had no$2$ intention of disamericanising,
105:049,13@f   | nor had he a desire to$9$ teach his only son any such
105:049,14@f   | subtle art.  It had been for$4$ himself so$5#1$ very soluble
105:049,15@f   | a problem to$9$ live in$4$ England assimilated yet unconverted
105:049,16@f   | that$3$ it seemed to$4$ him equally simple his lawful
105:049,17@f   | heir should after his death carry on$5$ the grey old bank
105:049,18@f   | in$4$ the white American light.  
105:049,18['  ]| He was at pains to$9$ intensify
105:049,19['  ]| this light, however, by$4$ sending the boy home for$4$ his
105:049,20['  ]| education.  Ralph spent several terms at an American 
105:049,21['  ]| school and took a degree at an American university,
105:049,22['  ]| after which$6#1$, as he struck his father on$4$ his return as
105:049,23['  ]| even redundantly native, he was placed for$4$ some three
105:049,24['  ]| years in$4$ residence at Oxford.  Oxford swallowed up$5$
105:049,25['  ]| Harvard, and Ralph became at last English enough.
105:049,26['  ]| His outward conformity to$4$ the manners that$6#1$ surrounded
105:049,27['  ]| him was none the less the mask of a mind
105:049,28['  ]| that$6#1$ greatly enjoyed its independence, on$4$ which$6#1$ nothing 
105:049,29['  ]| long imposed itself, and which$6#1$, naturally inclined
105:049,30['  ]| to$4$ adventure and irony, indulged in$4$ a boundless
105:049,31['  ]| liberty of appreciation.  He began with being
105:049,32['  ]| a young man of promise; at Oxford he distinguished
105:050,01['  ]| himself, to$4$ his father's ineffable satisfaction, and the
105:050,02['  ]| people about him said 
105:050,02@x   | it was a thousand pities so$5#1$
105:050,03@x   | clever a fellow should be shut out from a career.  
105:050,03['  ]| He
105:050,04['  ]| might have had a career by$4$ returning to$4$ his own country
105:050,05['  ]| (though this point is shrouded in$4$ uncertainty)
105:050,06['  ]| and even if Mr%*Touchett had been willing to$9$ part
105:050,07['  ]| with him (which$6#1$ was not the case) it would have gone
105:050,08['  ]| hard with him to$9$ put a watery waste permanently
105:050,09['  ]| between himself and the old man whom he regarded
105:050,10['  ]| as his best friend.  Ralph was not only fond of his
105:050,11['  ]| father, he admired him ~~ he enjoyed the opportunity
105:050,12['  ]| of observing him.  Daniel*Touchett, to$4$ his perception,
105:050,13['  ]| was a man of genius and though he himself 
105:050,14['  ]| had no$2$ aptitude for$4$ the banking mystery he made
105:050,15['  ]| a point of learning enough of it to$9$ measure the great
105:050,16['  ]| figure his father had played.  It was not this, however,
105:050,17['  ]| he mainly relished; it was the fine ivory surface,
105:050,18['  ]| polished as by$4$ the English air, that$6#1$ the old man had
105:050,19['  ]| opposed to$4$ possibilities of penetration.  Daniel*Touchett
105:050,20['  ]| had been neither at Harvard nor at Oxford, and
105:050,21['  ]| it was his own fault if he had placed in$4$ his son's
105:050,22['  ]| hands the key to$4$ modern criticism.  Ralph, whose
105:050,23['  ]| head was full of ideas which$6#1$ his father had never
105:050,24['  ]| guessed, had a high esteem for$4$ the latter's originality.
105:050,25['  ]| Americans, rightly or wrongly, are commended for$4$
105:050,26['  ]| the ease with which$6#1$ they adapt themselves to$4$ foreign
105:050,27['  ]| conditions; but Mr%*Touchett had made of the very
105:050,28['  ]| limits of his pliancy half the ground of his general
105:050,29['  ]| success.  He had retained in$4$ their freshness most
105:050,30['  ]| of his marks of primary pressure; 
105:050,30@b   | his tone, 
105:050,30['  ]| as his
105:050,31['  ]| son always noted with pleasure, 
105:050,31@b   | was that$6#2$ of the 
105:050,32@b   | more luxuriant parts of New*England.  
105:050,32['  ]| At the end
105:051,01['  ]| of his life he had become, on$4$ his own ground, as
105:051,02['  ]| mellow as he was rich; he combined consummate
105:051,03['  ]| shrewdness with the disposition superficially to$9$ fraternise,
105:051,04['  ]| and his "social position," on$4$ which$6#1$ he had
105:051,05['  ]| never wasted a care, had the firm perfection of an
105:051,06['  ]| unthumbed fruit.  It was perhaps his want of imagination
105:051,07['  ]| and of what is called the historic consciousness;
105:051,08['  ]| but to$4$ many of the impressions usually made
105:051,09['  ]| by$4$ English life upon$4$ the cultivated stranger his
105:051,10['  ]| sense was completely closed.  There were certain
105:051,11['  ]| differences he had never perceived, certain habits he
105:051,12['  ]| had never formed, certain obscurities he had never
105:051,13['  ]| sounded.  As regards these latter, on$4$ the day he \had\
105:051,14['  ]| sounded them his son would have thought less well
105:051,15['  ]| of him.
105:051,16['  ]| Ralph, on$4$ leaving Oxford, had spent a couple of
105:051,17['  ]| years in$4$ travelling; after which$6#1$ he had found himself
105:051,18['  ]| perched on$4$ a high stool in$4$ his father's bank.  The
105:051,19['  ]| responsibility and honour of such positions is not,
105:051,20['  ]| I believe, measured by$4$ the height of the stool, which$6#1$
105:051,21['  ]| depends upon$4$ other considerations: Ralph, indeed,
105:051,22['  ]| who$6#1$ had very long legs, was fond of standing, and
105:051,23['  ]| even of walking about, at his work.  To$4$ this exercise,
105:051,24['  ]| however, he was obliged to$9$ devote but a limited period,
105:051,25['  ]| for$3$ at the end of some eighteen months he had
105:051,26['  ]| become aware of his being seriously out of health.
105:051,27['  ]| He had caught a violent cold, which$6#1$ fixed itself on$4$ his
105:051,28['  ]| lungs and threw them into dire confusion.  He had
105:051,29['  ]| to$9$ give up$5$ work and apply, to$4$ the letter, the sorry injunction
105:051,30['  ]| to$9$ take care of himself.  At first he slighted
105:051,31['  ]| the task; it appeared to$4$ him it was not himself in$4$ the 
105:051,32['  ]| least he was taking care of, but an uninteresting and 
105:052,01['  ]| uninterested person with whom he had nothing in$4$ common.
105:052,02['  ]| This person, however, improved on$4$ acquaintance,
105:052,03['  ]| and Ralph grew at last to$9$ have a certain grudging
105:052,04['  ]| tolerance, even an undemonstrative respect, for$4$
105:052,05['  ]| him.  Misfortune makes strange bedfellows, and our
105:052,06['  ]| young man, feeling that$3$ he had something at stake
105:052,07['  ]| in$4$ the matter ~~ it usually struck him as his reputation
105:052,08['  ]| for$4$ ordinary wit ~~ devoted to$4$ his graceless
105:052,09['  ]| charge an amount of attention of which$6#1$ note was duly
105:052,10['  ]| taken and which$6#1$ had at least the effect of keeping
105:052,11['  ]| the poor fellow alive.  One of his lungs began to$9$ heal,
105:052,12['  ]| the other promised to$9$ follow its example, and he was
105:052,13['  ]| assured he might outweather a dozen winters if he
105:052,14['  ]| would betake himself to$4$ those climates in$4$ which$6#1$ consumptives
105:052,15['  ]| chiefly congregate.  As he had grown extremely
105:052,16['  ]| fond of London, he cursed the flatness of
105:052,17['  ]| exile: but at the same time that$3$ he cursed he conformed,
105:052,18['  ]| and gradually, when he found his sensitive
105:052,19['  ]| organ grateful even for$4$ grim favours, he conferred
105:052,20['  ]| them with a lighter hand.  He wintered abroad, as the
105:052,21['  ]| phrase is; basked in$4$ the sun, stopped at home when
105:052,22['  ]| the wind blew, went to$4$ bed when it rained, and once
105:052,23['  ]| or twice, when it had snowed overnight, almost never
105:052,24['  ]| got up$5$ again.
105:052,25['  ]| A secret hoard of indifference ~~ like$4$ a thick cake
105:052,26['  ]| a fond old nurse might have slipped into his first school
105:052,27['  ]| outfit ~~ came to$4$ his aid and helped to$9$ reconcile him
105:052,28['  ]| to$4$ sacrifice; since at the best he was too ill for$4$ aught
105:052,29['  ]| but that$6#2$ arduous game.  As he said to$4$ himself, 
105:052,29@b   | there
105:052,30@b   | was really nothing he had wanted very much to$9$ do, so$3$
105:052,31@b   | that$3$ he had at least not renounced the field of valour.
105:052,32['  ]| At present, however, the fragrance of forbidden fruit
105:053,01['  ]| seemed occasionally to$9$ float past him and remind him
105:053,02['  ]| that$3$ the finest of pleasures is the rush of action.  Living
105:053,03['  ]| as he now lived was like$4$ reading a good book in$4$ 
105:053,04['  ]| a poor translation ~~ a meagre entertainment for$4$ a 
105:053,05['  ]| young man who$6#1$ felt that$3$ he might have been an excellent 
105:053,06['  ]| linguist.  He had good winters and poor winters,
105:053,07['  ]| and while the former lasted he was sometimes
105:053,08['  ]| the sport of a vision of virtual recovery.  But this
105:053,09['  ]| vision was dispelled some three years before the
105:053,10['  ]| occurrence of the incidents with which$6#1$ this history
105:053,11['  ]| opens: he had on$4$ that$6#2$ occasion remained later than
105:053,12['  ]| usual in$4$ England and had been overtaken by$4$ bad
105:053,13['  ]| weather before reaching Algiers.   He arrived more
105:053,14['  ]| dead than alive and lay there for$4$ several weeks between
105:053,15['  ]| life and death.  His convalescence was a miracle,
105:053,16['  ]| but the first use he made of it was to$9$ assure himself
105:053,17['  ]| that$3$ such miracles happen but once.  He said to$4$ 
105:053,18['  ]| himself that$3$ 
105:053,18@b   | his hour was in$4$ sight and that$3$ it behoved
105:053,19@b   | him to$9$ keep his eyes upon$4$ it, yet that$3$ it was also open
105:053,20@b   | to$4$ him to$9$ spend the interval as agreeably as might
105:053,21@b   | be consistent with such a preoccupation.  
105:053,21['  ]| With the
105:053,22['  ]| prospect of losing them the simple use of his faculties
105:053,23['  ]| became an exquisite pleasure; it seemed to$4$ him the
105:053,24['  ]| joys of contemplation had never been sounded.  He
105:053,25['  ]| was far from the time when he had found it hard
105:053,26['  ]| that$3$ he should be obliged to$9$ give up$5$ the idea of distinguishing
105:053,27['  ]| himself; an idea none the less importunate 
105:053,28['  ]| for$4$ being vague and none the less delightful
105:053,29['  ]| for$4$ having had to$9$ struggle in$4$ the same breast with
105:053,30['  ]| bursts of inspiring self-criticism.  His friends at
105:053,31['  ]| present judged him more cheerful, and attributed
105:053,32['  ]| it to$4$ a theory, over which$6#1$ they shook their heads
105:054,01['  ]| knowingly, that$3$ he would recover his health.  His
105:054,02['  ]| serenity was but the array of wild flowers niched in$4$
105:054,03['  ]| his ruin.
105:054,04['  ]| It was very probably this sweet-tasting property
105:054,05['  ]| of the observed thing in$4$ itself that$6#1$ was mainly concerned
105:054,06['  ]| in$4$ Ralph's quickly-stirred interest in$4$ the 
105:054,07['  ]| advent of a young lady who$6#1$ was evidently not insipid.
105:054,08['  ]| If he was consideringly disposed, something told
105:054,09['  ]| him, here was occupation enough for$4$ a succession
105:054,10['  ]| of days.  It may be added, in$4$ summary fashion, that$3$
105:054,11['  ]| the imagination of loving ~~ as distinguished from
105:054,12['  ]| that$6#2$ of being loved ~~ had still a place in$4$ his reduced
105:054,13['  ]| sketch.  He had only forbidden himself the riot of
105:054,14['  ]| expression.  However, he should not inspire his cousin
105:054,15['  ]| with a passion, nor would she be able, even should
105:054,16['  ]| she try, to$9$ help him to$4$ one.  
105:054,16[B  ]| "And now tell me
105:054,17[B  ]| about the young lady," 
105:054,17['  ]| he said to$4$ his mother.
105:054,18[B  ]| "What do you mean to$9$ do with her?"
105:054,19['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett was prompt.  
105:054,19[G  ]| "I mean to$9$ ask your
105:054,20[G  ]| father to$9$ invite her to$9$ stay three or four weeks at
105:054,21[G  ]| Gardencourt."
105:054,22[B  ]| "You need not stand on$4$ any such ceremony as
105:054,23[B  ]| that$6#2$," 
105:054,23['  ]| said Ralph.  
105:054,23[B  ]| "My father will$1$ ask her as a matter
105:054,24[B  ]| of course."
105:054,25[G  ]| "I do not know about that$6#2$.  She is my niece; she is
105:054,26[G  ]| not his."
105:054,27[B  ]| "Good Lord, dear mother; what a sense of property!
105:054,28[B  ]| That$6#2$ is all the more reason for$4$ his asking
105:054,29[B  ]| her.   But after that$6#2$ ~~ I mean after three months
105:054,30[B  ]| (for$3$ it is absurd asking the poor girl to$9$ remain but
105:054,31[B  ]| for$4$ three or four paltry weeks) ~~ what do you mean
105:054,32[B  ]| to$9$ do with her?"
105:055,01[G  ]| "I mean to$9$ take her to$4$ Paris.  I mean to$9$ get her
105:055,02[G  ]| clothing."
105:055,03[B  ]| "Ah yes, that$6#2$ is of course.  But independently of
105:055,04[B  ]| that$6#2$?"
105:055,05[G  ]| "I shall invite her to$9$ spend the autumn with me
105:055,06[G  ]| in$4$ Florence."
105:055,07[B  ]| "You do not rise above detail, dear mother," 
105:055,07['  ]| said
105:055,08['  ]| Ralph.  
105:055,08[B  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ know what you mean to$9$ do
105:055,09[B  ]| with her in$4$ a general way."
105:055,10[G  ]| "My duty!" 
105:055,10['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett declared.  
105:055,10[G  ]| "I suppose
105:055,11[G  ]| you pity her very much," 
105:055,11['  ]| she added.
105:055,12[B  ]| "No$7$, I do not think I pity her.  She does not strike 
105:055,13[B  ]| me as inviting compassion.  I think I envy her.  Before
105:055,14[B  ]| being sure, however, give me a hint of where
105:055,15[B  ]| you see your duty."
105:055,16[G  ]| "In$4$ showing her four European countries ~~ I 
105:055,17[G  ]| shall leave her the choice of two of them ~~ and in$4$
105:055,18[G  ]| giving her the opportunity of perfecting herself in$4$
105:055,19[G  ]| French, which$6#1$ she already knows very well."
105:055,20['  ]| Ralph frowned a little.  
105:055,20[B  ]| "That$6#2$ sounds rather dry ~~
105:055,21[B  ]| even allowing her the choice ot two of the countries."
105:055,22[G  ]| "If it is dry," 
105:055,22['  ]| said his mother with a laugh, 
105:055,22[G  ]| "you
105:055,23[G  ]| can leave Isabel alone to$9$ water it!  She is as good
105:055,24[G  ]| as a summer rain, any day."
105:055,25[B  ]| "Do you mean she is a gifted being?"
105:055,26[G  ]| "I do not know whether she is a gifted being, but
105:055,27[G  ]| she is a clever girl ~~ with a strong will$0$ and a high
105:055,28[G  ]| temper.  She has no$2$ idea of being bored."
105:055,29[B  ]| "I can imagine that$6#2$," 
105:055,29['  ]| said Ralph; and then he
105:055,30['  ]| added abruptly: 
105:055,30[B  ]| "How do you two get on$5$?"
105:055,31[G  ]| "Do you mean by$4$ that$6#2$ that$3$ I am a bore?  I do not
105:055,32[G  ]| think she finds me one.  Some girls might, I know;
105:056,01[G  ]| but Isabel is too clever for$4$ that$6#2$.  I think I greatly
105:056,02[G  ]| amuse her.  We get on$5$ because I understand her;
105:056,03[G  ]| I know the sort of girl she is.  She is very frank, and
105:056,04[G  ]| I am very frank: we know just what to$9$ expect of each
105:056,05[G  ]| other."
105:056,06[B  ]| "Ah, dear mother," 
105:056,06['  ]| Ralph exclaimed, 
105:056,06[B  ]| "one always
105:056,07[B  ]| knows what to$9$ expect of \you\!  You have never surprised
105:056,08[B  ]| me but once, and that$6#2$ is to-day ~~ in$4$ presenting
105:056,09[B  ]| me with a pretty cousin whose existence I had
105:056,10[B  ]| never suspected."
105:056,11[G  ]| "Do you think her so$5#1$ very pretty?"
105:056,12[B  ]| "Very pretty indeed; but I do not insist upon$4$ that$6#2$.
105:056,13[B  ]| It is her general air of being some*one in$4$ particular
105:056,14[B  ]| that$6#1$ strikes me.  Who$6#2$ is this rare creature, and what
105:056,15[B  ]| is she?  Where did you find her, and how did you
105:056,16[B  ]| make her acquaintance?"
105:056,17[G  ]| "I found her in$4$ an old house at Albany, sitting
105:056,18[G  ]| in$4$ a dreary room on$4$ a rainy day, reading a heavy
105:056,19[G  ]| book and boring herself to$4$ death.  She did not know
105:056,20[G  ]| she was bored, but when I left her no$2$ doubt of it she
105:056,21[G  ]| seemed very grateful for$4$ the service.  You may say
105:056,22[G  ]| I should not have enlightened her ~~ I should have
105:056,23[G  ]| let her alone.  There is a good deal in$4$ that$6#2$, but I
105:056,24[G  ]| acted conscientiously; I thought she was meant for$4$
105:056,25[G  ]| something better.  It occurred to$4$ me that$3$ it would be
105:056,26[G  ]| a kindness to$9$ take her about and introduce her to$4$ the
105:056,27[G  ]| world.  She thinks she knows a great deal of it ~~ like$4$
105:056,28[G  ]| most American girls; but like$4$ most American girls
105:056,29[G  ]| she is ridiculously mistaken.  If you want to$9$ know,
105:056,30[G  ]| I thought she would do me credit.  I like$1$ to$9$ be well
105:056,31[G  ]| thought of, and for$4$ a woman of my age there is no$2$
105:056,32[G  ]| greater convenience, in$4$ some ways, than an attractive
105:057,01[G  ]| niece.  You know I had seen nothing of my
105:057,02[G  ]| sister's children for$4$ years; I disapproved entirely
105:057,03[G  ]| of the father.  But I always meant to$9$ do something
105:057,04[G  ]| for$4$ them when he should have gone to$4$ his reward.
105:057,05[G  ]| I ascertained where they were to$9$ be found and,
105:057,06[G  ]| without any preliminaries, went and introduced
105:057,07[G  ]| myself.  There are two others of them, both of whom
105:057,08[G  ]| are married; but I saw only the elder, who$6#1$ has, by$4$
105:057,09[G  ]| the way, a very uncivil husband.  The wife, whose
105:057,10[G  ]| name is Lily, jumped at the idea of my taking an
105:057,11[G  ]| interest in$4$ Isabel; she said it was just what her sister
105:057,12[G  ]| needed ~~ that$3$ some*one should take an interest in$4$
105:057,13[G  ]| her.  She spoke of her as you might speak of some
105:057,14[G  ]| young person of genius ~~ in$4$ want of encouragement
105:057,15[G  ]| and patronage.  It may be that$3$ Isabel is a genius;
105:057,16[G  ]| but in$4$ that$6#2$ case I have not yet learned her special
105:057,17[G  ]| line.  Mrs%*Ludlow was especially keen about my
105:057,18[G  ]| taking her to$4$ Europe; they all regard Europe over
105:057,19[G  ]| there as a land of emigration, of rescue, a refuge for$4$
105:057,20[G  ]| their superfluous population.  Isabel herself seemed
105:057,21[G  ]| very glad to$9$ come, and the thing was easily arranged.
105:057,22[G  ]| There was a little difficulty about the money-question,
105:057,23[G  ]| as she seemed averse to$9$ being under pecuniary
105:057,24[G  ]| obligations.  But she has a small income and
105:057,25[G  ]| she supposes herself to$9$ be travelling at her own
105:057,26[G  ]| expense."
105:057,27['  ]| Ralph had listened attentively to$4$ this judicious
105:057,28['  ]| report, by$4$ which$6#1$ his interest in$4$ the subject of it was
105:057,29['  ]| not impaired.  
105:057,29[B  ]| "Ah, if she is a genius," 
105:057,29['  ]| he said, 
105:057,29[B  ]| "we
105:057,30[B  ]| must find out her special line.  Is it by$4$ chance for$4$ 
105:057,31[B  ]| flirting?"
105:057,32[G  ]| "I do not think so$5#2$.  You may suspect that$6#2$ at first,
105:058,01[G  ]| but you will$1$ be wrong.  You will$1$ not, I think, in$4$ anyway,
105:058,02[G  ]| be easily right about her."
105:058,03[B  ]| "Warburton is wrong then!" 
105:058,03['  ]| Ralph rejoicingly
105:058,04['  ]| exclaimed.  
105:058,04[B  ]| "He flatters himself he has made that$6#2$
105:058,05[B  ]| discovery."
105:058,06['  ]| His mother shook her head.  
105:058,06[G  ]| "Lord*Warburton
105:058,07[G  ]| will$1$ not understand her.  He need not try."
105:058,08[B  ]| "He is very intelligent," 
105:058,08['  ]| said Ralph; 
105:058,08[B  ]| "but it is
105:058,09[B  ]| right he should be puzzled once in$4$ a while."
105:058,10[G  ]| "Isabel will$1$ enjoy puzzling a lord," 
105:058,10['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett
105:058,11['  ]| remarked.
105:058,12['  ]| Her son frowned a little.  
105:058,12[B  ]| "What does she know 
105:058,13[B  ]| about lords?"
105:058,14[G  ]| "Nothing at all: that$6#2$ will$1$ puzzle him all the
105:058,15[G  ]| more."
105:058,16['  ]| Ralph greeted these words with a laugh and looked
105:058,17['  ]| out of the window.  Then, 
105:058,17[B  ]| "Are you not going down
105:058,18[B  ]| to$9$ see my father?" 
105:058,18['  ]| he asked.
105:058,19[G  ]| "At a quarter to$4$ eight," 
105:058,19['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett.
105:058,20['  ]| Her son looked at his watch.  
105:058,20[B  ]| "You have another
105:058,21[B  ]| quarter of an hour then.  Tell me some more about
105:058,22[B  ]| Isabel."  
105:058,22['  ]| After which$6#1$, as Mrs%*Touchett declined his
105:058,23['  ]| invitation, declaring that$3$ 
105:058,23@g   | he must find out for$4$ himself,
105:058,24[B  ]| "Well," 
105:058,24['  ]| he pursued, 
105:058,24[B  ]| "she will$1$ certainly do you
105:058,25[B  ]| credit.  But will$1$ not she also give you trouble?"
105:058,26[G  ]| "I hope not; but if she does I shall not shrink
105:058,27[G  ]| from it.  I never do that$6#2$."
105:058,28[B  ]| "She strikes me as very natural," 
105:058,28['  ]| said Ralph.
105:058,29[G  ]| "Natural people are not the most trouble."
105:058,30[B  ]| "No$7$," 
105:058,30['  ]| said Ralph; 
105:058,30[B  ]| "you yourself are a proof of
105:058,31[B  ]| that$6#2$.  You are extremely natural, and I am sure you
105:058,32[B  ]| have never troubled any*one.  It \takes\ trouble to$9$ do
105:059,01[B  ]| that$6#2$.  But tell me this; it just occurs to$4$ me.  Is Isabel
105:059,02[B  ]| capable of making herself disagreeable?"
105:059,03[G  ]| "Ah," 
105:059,03['  ]| cried his mother, 
105:059,03[G  ]| "you ask too many questions!
105:059,04[G  ]| Find that$6#2$ out for$4$ yourself."
105:059,05['  ]| His questions, however, were not exhausted.  
105:059,05[B  ]| "All
105:059,06[B  ]| this time," 
105:059,06['  ]| he said, 
105:059,06[B  ]| "you have not told me what you
105:059,07[B  ]| intend to$9$ do with her."
105:059,08[G  ]| "Do with her?  You talk as if she were a yard of
105:059,09[G  ]| calico.  I shall do absolutely nothing with her, and
105:059,10[G  ]| she herself will$1$ do everything she chooses.  She gave
105:059,11[G  ]| me notice of that$6#2$."
105:059,12[B  ]| "What you meant then, in$4$ your telegram, was that$3$
105:059,13[B  ]| her character is independent."
105:059,14[G  ]| "I never know what I mean in$4$ my telegrams ~~
105:059,15[G  ]| especially those I send from America.  Clearness is
105:059,16[G  ]| too expensive.  Come down to$4$ your father."
105:059,17[B  ]| "It is not yet a quarter to$4$ eight," 
105:059,17['  ]| said Ralph.
105:059,18[G  ]| "I must allow for$4$ his impatience," 
105:059,18['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett
105:059,19['  ]| answered.
105:059,20['  ]| Ralph knew what to$9$ think of his father's impatience;
105:059,21['  ]| but, making no$2$ rejoinder, he offered his mother his
105:059,22['  ]| arm.  This put it in$4$ his power, as they descended
105:059,23['  ]| together, to$9$ stop her a moment on$4$ the middle landing
105:059,24['  ]| of the staircase ~~ the broad, low, wide-armed staircase
105:059,25['  ]| of time-blackened oak which$6#1$ was one of the
105:059,26['  ]| most striking features of Gardencourt.  
105:059,26[B  ]| "You have
105:059,27[B  ]| no$2$ plan of marrying her?" 
105:059,27['  ]| he smiled.
105:059,28[G  ]| "Marrying her?  I should be sorry to$9$ play her such
105:059,29[G  ]| a trick!  But apart from that$6#2$, she is perfectly able to$9$
105:059,30[G  ]| marry herself.  She has every facility."
105:059,31[B  ]| "Do you mean to$9$ say she has a husband picked
105:059,32[B  ]| out?"
105:060,01[G  ]| "I do not know about a husband, but there is a 
105:060,02[G  ]| young man in$4$ Boston ~~ !"
105:060,03['  ]| Ralph went on$5$; he had no$2$ desire to$9$ hear about the 
105:060,04['  ]| young man in$4$ Boston.  
105:060,03[B  ]| "As my father says, they are
105:060,05[B  ]| always engaged!"
105:060,06['  ]| His mother had told him that$3$ 
105:060,06@g   | he must satisfy his
105:060,07@g   | curiosity at the source, 
105:060,07['  ]| and it soon became evident
105:060,08@b   | he should not want for$4$ occasion.  
105:060,08['  ]| He had a good
105:060,09['  ]| deal of talk with his young kinswoman when the two
105:060,10['  ]| had been left together in$4$ the drawing-room.  Lord*Warburton,
105:060,11['  ]| who$6#1$ had ridden over from his own house,
105:060,12['  ]| some ten miles distant, remounted and took his departure 
105:060,13['  ]| before dinner; and an hour after this meal
105:060,14['  ]| was ended Mr% and Mrs%*Touchett, who$6#1$ appeared
105:060,15['  ]| to$9$ have quite emptied the measure of their forms,
105:060,16['  ]| withdrew, under the valid pretext of fatigue, to$4$ their
105:060,17['  ]| respective apartments.  The young man spent an
105:060,18['  ]| hour with his cousin; though she had been travelling
105:060,19['  ]| half the day she appeared in$4$ no$2$ degree spent.  She
105:060,20['  ]| was really tired; she knew it, and knew she should
105:060,21['  ]| pay for$4$ it on$4$ the morrow; but it was her habit at this
105:060,22['  ]| period to$9$ carry exhaustion to$4$ the furthest point and
105:060,23['  ]| confess to$4$ it only when dissimulation broke down.
105:060,24['  ]| A fine hypocrisy was for$4$ the present possible; 
105:060,24@a   | she
105:060,25@a   | was interested; she was, 
105:060,25['  ]| as she said to$4$ herself, 
105:060,25@a   | floated.
105:060,26['  ]| She asked Ralph to$9$ show her the pictures; there were
105:060,27['  ]| a great many in$4$ the house, most of them of his own 
105:060,28['  ]| choosing.  The best were arranged in$4$ an oaken gallery,
105:060,29['  ]| of charming proportions, which$6#1$ had a sitting-room
105:060,30['  ]| at either end of it and which$6#1$ in$4$ the evening
105:060,31['  ]| was usually lighted.  The light was insufficient to$9$
105:060,32['  ]| show the pictures to$4$ advantage, and the visit might
105:061,01['  ]| have stood over to$4$ the morrow.  This suggestion
105:061,02['  ]| Ralph had ventured to$9$ make; but Isabel looked disappointed
105:061,03['  ]| ~~ smiling still, however ~~ and said: 
105:061,03[A  ]| "If
105:061,04[A  ]| you please I should like$1$ to$9$ see them just a little."
105:061,05['  ]| She was eager, she knew she was eager and now
105:061,06['  ]| seemed so$5#2$; she could not help it.  
105:061,06[B  ]| "She does not
105:061,07[B  ]| take suggestions," 
105:061,07['  ]| Ralph said to$4$ himself; but he
105:061,08['  ]| said it without irritation; her pressure amused and
105:061,09['  ]| even pleased him.  The lamps were on$4$ brackets, at
105:061,10['  ]| intervals, and if the light was imperfect it was genial.
105:061,11['  ]| It fell upon$4$ the vague squares of rich colour and on$4$ the
105:061,12['  ]| faded gilding of heavy frames; it made a sheen on$4$
105:061,13['  ]| the polished floor of the gallery.  Ralph took a candlestick
105:061,14['  ]| and moved about, pointing out the things he
105:061,15['  ]| liked; Isabel, inclining to$4$ one picture after another,
105:061,16['  ]| indulged in$4$ little exclamations and murmurs.  She
105:061,17['  ]| was evidently a judge; she had a natural taste; he
105:061,18['  ]| was struck with that$6#2$.  She took a candlestick herself
105:061,19['  ]| and held it slowly here and there; she lifted it high,
105:061,20['  ]| and as she did so$5#2$ he found himself pausing in$4$ the
105:061,21['  ]| middle of the place and bending his eyes much less
105:061,22['  ]| upon$4$ the pictures than on$4$ her presence.  He lost nothing,
105:061,23['  ]| in$4$ truth, by$4$ these wandering glances, for$3$ she
105:061,24['  ]| was better worth looking at than most works of art.
105:061,25['  ]| She was undeniably spare,and ponderably light,
105:061,26['  ]| and proveably tall; when people had wished to$9$ distinguish
105:061,27['  ]| her from the other two Miss*Archers they
105:061,28['  ]| had always called her the willowy one.  Her hair,
105:061,29['  ]| which$6#1$ was dark even to$4$ blackness, had been an object
105:061,30['  ]| of envy to$4$ many women; her light grey eyes, a little
105:061,31['  ]| too firm perhaps in$4$ her graver moments, had an
105:061,32['  ]| enchanting range of concession.  They walked slowly
105:062,01['  ]| up$4$ one side of the gallery and down the other, and
105:062,02['  ]| then she said: 
105:062,02[A  ]| "Well, now I know more than I did
105:062,03[A  ]| when I began!"
105:062,04[B  ]| "You apparently have a great passion for$4$ knowledge,"
105:062,05[B  ]| her cousin returned.
105:062,06[A  ]| "I think I have; most girls are horridly ignorant."
105:062,07[B  ]| "You strike me as different from most girls."
105:062,08[A  ]| "Ah, some of them \would\ ~~ but the way they are
105:062,09[A  ]| talked to$4$!" 
105:062,09['  ]| murmured Isabel, who$6#1$ preferred not to$9$ 
105:062,10['  ]| dilate just yet on$4$ herself.  Then in$4$ a moment, to$9$ 
105:062,11['  ]| change the subject, 
105:062,11[A  ]| "Please tell me ~~ is not there
105:062,12[A  ]| a ghost?" 
105:062,12['  ]| she went on$5$.
105:062,13[B  ]| "A ghost?"
105:062,14[A  ]| "A castle-spectre, a thing that$6#1$ appears.  We call
105:062,15[A  ]| them ghosts in$4$ America."
105:062,16[B  ]| "So$5#2$ we do here, when we see them."
105:062,17[A  ]| "You do see them then?  You ought to$9$, in$4$ this 
105:062,18[A  ]| romantic old house."
105:062,19[B  ]| "It is not a romantic old house," 
105:062,19['  ]| said Ralph.
105:062,20[B  ]| "You will$1$ be disappointed if you count on$4$ that$6#2$.  It is
105:062,21[B  ]| a dismally prosaic one; there is no$2$ romance here but
105:062,22[B  ]| what you may have brought with you."
105:062,23[A  ]| "I have brought a great deal; but it seems to$4$ me I have
105:062,24[A  ]| brought it to$4$ the right place."
105:062,25[B  ]| "To$9$ keep it out of harm, certainly; nothing will$1$
105:062,26[B  ]| ever happen to$4$ it here, between my father and me."
105:062,27['  ]| Isabel looked at him a moment.  
105:062,27[A  ]| "Is there never
105:062,28[A  ]| any*one here but your father and you?"
105:062,29[G  ]| "My mother, of course."
105:062,30[A  ]| "Oh, I know your mother; she is not romantic.
105:062,31[A  ]| Have not you other people?"
105:062,32[B  ]| "Very few."
105:063,01[A  ]| "I am sorry for$4$ that$6#2$; I like$1$ so$5#1$ much to$9$ see people."
105:063,02[B  ]| "Oh, we will$1$ invite all the county to$9$ amuse you,"
105:063,03['  ]| said Ralph.
105:063,04[A  ]| "Now you are making fun of me," 
105:063,04['  ]| the girl answered
105:063,05['  ]| rather gravely.  
105:063,05[A  ]| "Who$6#2$ was the gentleman on$4$ the 
105:063,06[A  ]| lawn when I arrived?"
105:063,07[B  ]| "A county neighbour; he does not come very
105:063,08[B  ]| often."
105:063,09[A  ]| "I am sorry for$4$ that$6#2$; I liked him," 
105:063,09['  ]| said Isabel.
105:063,10[B  ]| "Why, it seemed to$4$ me that$3$ you barely spoke to$4$ 
105:063,11[B  ]| him," 
105:063,11['  ]| Ralph objected.
105:063,12[A  ]| "Never mind, I like$1$ him all the same.  I like$1$ your
105:063,13[A  ]| father too, immensely."
105:063,14[B  ]| "You can not do better than that$6#2$.  He is the dearest
105:063,15[B  ]| of the dear."
105:063,16[A  ]| "I am so$5#1$ sorry he is ill," 
105:063,16['  ]| said Isabel.
105:063,17[B  ]| "You must help me to$9$ nurse him; you ought to$9$ be
105:063,18[B  ]| a good nurse."
105:063,19[A  ]| "I do not think I am; I have been told I am not;
105:063,20[A  ]| I am said to$9$ have too many theories.  But you have not
105:063,21[A  ]| told me about the ghost," 
105:063,21['  ]| she added.
105:063,22['  ]| Ralph, however, gave no$2$ heed to$4$ this observation.
105:063,23[B  ]| "You like$1$ my father and you like$1$ Lord*Warburton.
105:063,24[B  ]| I infer also that$3$ you like$1$ my mother."
105:063,25[A  ]| "I like$1$ your mother very much, because ~~ because ~~ "
105:063,26['  ]| And Isabel found herself attempting to$9$ 
105:063,27['  ]| assign a reason for$4$ her affection for$4$ Mrs%*Touchett.
105:063,28[B  ]| "Ah, we never know why!" 
105:063,28['  ]| said her companion,
105:063,29['  ]| laughing.
105:063,30[A  ]| "I always know why," 
105:063,30['  ]| the girl answered.  
105:063,30[A  ]| "It is
105:063,31[A  ]| because she does not expect one to$9$ like$1$ her.  She
105:063,32[A  ]| does not care whether one does or not."
105:064,01[B  ]| "So$3$ you adore her ~~ out of perversity?  Well,
105:064,02[B  ]| I take greatly after my mother," 
105:064,02['  ]| said Ralph.
105:064,03[A  ]| "I do not believe you do at all.  You wish people
105:064,04[A  ]| to$9$ like$1$ you, and you try to$9$ make them do it."
105:064,05[B  ]| "Good heavens, how you see through one!" 
105:064,05['  ]| he
105:064,06['  ]| cried with a dismay that$6#1$ was not altogether jocular.
105:064,07['  ]| 
105:064,08[A  ]| "But I like$1$ you all the same," 
105:064,08['  ]| his cousin went on$5$.
105:064,09[A  ]| "The way to$9$ clinch the matter will$1$ be to$9$ show me the
105:064,10[A  ]| ghost."
105:064,11['  ]| Ralph shook his head sadly.  
105:064,05[B  ]| "I might show it to$4$ 
105:064,12[B  ]| you, but you would never see it.  The privilege is not
105:064,13[B  ]| given to$4$ every*one; it is not enviable.  It has never
105:064,14[B  ]| been seen by$4$ a young, happy, innocent person like$4$
105:064,15[B  ]| you.  You must have suffered first, have suffered
105:064,16[B  ]| greatly, have gained some miserable knowledge.  In$4$
105:064,17[B  ]| that$6#2$ way your eyes are opened to$4$ it.  I saw it long 
105:064,18[B  ]| ago," 
105:064,18['  ]| said Ralph.
105:064,19[A  ]| "I told you just now I am very fond of knowledge,"
105:064,20['  ]| Isabel answered.
105:064,21[B  ]| "Yes, of happy knowledge ~~ of pleasant knowledge.
105:064,22[B  ]| But you have not suffered, and you are not
105:064,23[B  ]| made to$9$ suffer.  I hope you will$1$ never see the ghost!"
105:064,24['  ]| She had listened to$4$ him attentively, with a smile
105:064,25['  ]| on$4$ her lips, but with a certain gravity in$4$ her eyes.
105:064,26['  ]| Charming as he found her, she had struck him as
105:064,27['  ]| rather presumptuous ~~ indeed it was a part of her
105:064,28['  ]| charm; and he wondered what she would say.  
105:064,28[A  ]| "I am
105:064,29[A  ]| not afraid, you know," 
105:064,29['  ]| she said: which$6#1$ seemed quite
105:064,30['  ]| presumptuous enough.
105:064,31[B  ]| "You are not afraid of suffering?"
105:064,32[A  ]| "Yes, I am afraid of suffering.  But I am not afraid
105:065,01[A  ]| of ghosts.  And I think people suffer too easily," 
105:065,01['  ]| she
105:065,02['  ]| added.
105:065,03[B  ]| "I do not believe \you\ do," 
105:065,03['  ]| said Ralph, looking at
105:065,04['  ]| her with his hands in$4$ his pockets.
105:065,05[A  ]| "I do not think that$6#2$ is a fault," 
105:065,05['  ]| she answered.  
105:065,05[A  ]| "It is
105:065,06[A  ]| not absolutely necessary to$9$ suffer; we were not made
105:065,07[A  ]| for$4$ that$6#2$."
105:065,08[B  ]| "You were not, certainly."
105:065,09[A  ]| "I am not speaking of myself."  
105:065,09['  ]| And she wandered
105:065,10['  ]| off a little.
105:065,11[B  ]| "No$7$, it is not a fault," 
105:065,11['  ]| said her cousin.  
105:065,11[B  ]| "It is a
105:065,12[B  ]| merit to$9$ be strong."
105:065,13[A  ]| "Only, if you do not suffer they call you hard,"
105:065,14['  ]| Isabel remarked.
105:065,15['  ]| They passed out of the smaller drawing-room, into
105:065,16['  ]| which$6#1$ they had returned from the gallery, and paused
105:065,17['  ]| in$4$ the hall, at the foot of the staircase.  Here Ralph
105:065,18['  ]| presented his companion with her bedroom candle,
105:065,19['  ]| which$6#1$ he had taken from a niche.  
105:065,19[B  ]| "Never mind what 
105:065,20[B  ]| they call you.  When you do suffer they call you an
105:065,21[B  ]| idiot.  The great point is to$9$ be as happy as possible."
105:065,22['  ]| She looked at him a little; she had taken her candle
105:065,23['  ]| and placed her foot on$4$ the oaken stair.  
105:065,23[A  ]| "Well," 
105:065,23['  ]| she
105:065,24['  ]| said, 
105:065,24[A  ]| "that$6#2$ is  what I came to$4$ Europe for$4$, to$9$ be as
105:065,25[A  ]| happy as possible.  Good-night."
105:065,26[B  ]| "Good-night!  I wish you all success, and shall be
105:065,27[B  ]| very glad to$9$ contribute to$4$ it!"
105:065,28['  ]| She turned away, and he watched her as she slowly
105:065,29['  ]| ascended.  Then, with his hands always in$4$ his pockets,
105:065,30['  ]| he went back to$4$ the empty drawing-room.
106:066,01['  ]| Isabel*Archer was a young person of many theories;
106:066,02['  ]| her imagination was remarkably active.  It had been
106:066,03['  ]| her fortune to$9$ possess a finer mind than most of the
106:066,04['  ]| persons among whom her lot was cast; to$9$ have a
106:066,05['  ]| larger perception of surrounding facts and to$9$ care for$4$
106:066,06['  ]| knowledge that$6#1$ was tinged with the unfamiliar.  It is
106:066,07['  ]| true that$3$ among her contemporaries she passed for$4$ a
106:066,08['  ]| young woman of extraordinary profundity; for$3$ these
106:066,09['  ]| excellent people never withheld their admiration from
106:066,10['  ]| a reach of intellect of which$6#1$ they themselves were not
106:066,11['  ]| conscious, and spoke of Isabel as a prodigy of learning,
106:066,12['  ]| a creature reported to$9$ have read the classic 
106:066,13['  ]| authors ~~ in$4$ translations.  Her paternal aunt, Mrs%*Varian,
106:066,14['  ]| once spread the rumour that$3$ Isabel was writing
106:066,15['  ]| a book ~~ Mrs%*Varian having a reverence for$4$
106:066,16['  ]| books, and averred that$3$ 
106:066,16@v   | the girl would distinguish
106:066,17@v   | herself in$4$ print.  
106:066,17['  ]| Mrs%*Varian thought highly of literature,
106:066,18['  ]| for$4$ which$6#1$ she entertained that$6#2$ esteem that$6#1$ is 
106:066,19['  ]| connected with a sense of privation.  Her own large
106:066,20['  ]| house, remarkable for$4$ its assortment of mosaic tables
106:066,21['  ]| and decorated ceilings, was unfurnished with a library,
106:066,22['  ]| and in$4$ the way of printed volumes contained
106:066,23['  ]| nothing but half a dozen novels in$4$ paper on$4$ a shelf
106:066,24['  ]| in$4$ the apartment of one of the Miss*Varians.  Practically,
106:066,25['  ]| Mrs%*Varian's acquaintance with literature
106:066,26['  ]| was confined to$4$ \The*New*York*Interviewer\; as she
106:066,27['  ]| very justly said, 
106:066,27@v   | after you had read the \Interviewer\
106:067,01@v   | you had lost all faith in$4$ culture.  
106:067,01['  ]| Her tendency,
106:067,02['  ]| with this, was rather to$9$ keep the \Interviewer\ out of
106:067,03['  ]| the way of her daughters; she was determined to$9$
106:067,04['  ]| bring them up$5$ properly, and they read nothing at all.
106:067,05['  ]| Her impression with regard to$4$ Isabel's labours was
106:067,06['  ]| quite illusory; the girl had never attempted to$9$ write
106:067,07['  ]| a book and had no$2$ desire for$4$ the laurels of authorship.
106:067,08['  ]| She had no$2$ talent for$4$ expression and too little
106:067,09['  ]| of the consciousness of genius; she only had a general
106:067,10['  ]| idea that$3$ 
106:067,10@a   | people were right when they treated her
106:067,11@a   | as if she were rather superior.  Whether or no$2$ she
106:067,12@a   | were superior, people were right in$4$ admiring her if
106:067,13@a   | they thought her so$5#2$; 
106:067,13['  ]| for$3$ it seemed to$4$ her often that$3$
106:067,14['  ]| her mind moved more quickly than theirs, and this
106:067,15['  ]| encouraged an impatience that$6#1$ might easily be confounded
106:067,16['  ]| with superiority.  It may be affirmed without
106:067,17['  ]| delay that$3$ Isabel was probably very liable to$4$ the sin
106:067,18['  ]| of self-esteem; she often surveyed with complacency
106:067,19['  ]| the field of her own nature; she was in$4$ the habit of
106:067,20['  ]| taking for$4$ granted, on$4$ scanty evidence, that$3$ she was
106:067,21['  ]| right; she treated herself to$4$ occasions of homage.
106:067,22['  ]| Meanwhile her errors and delusions were frequently
106:067,23['  ]| such as a biographer interested in$4$ preserving the
106:067,24['  ]| dignity of his subject must shrink from specifying.
106:067,25['  ]| Her thoughts were a tangle of vague outlines which$6#1$
106:067,26['  ]| had never been corrected by$4$ the judgement of people
106:067,27['  ]| speaking with authority.  In$4$ matters of opinion she
106:067,28['  ]| had had her own way, and it had led her into a thousand
106:067,29['  ]| ridiculous zigzags.  At moments she discovered
106:067,30['  ]| she was grotesquely wrong, and then she treated herself
106:067,31['  ]| to$4$ a week of passionate humility.  After this she
106:067,32['  ]| held her head higher than ever again; for$3$ it was of no$2$
106:068,01['  ]| use, she had an unquenchable desire to$9$ think well of
106:068,02['  ]| herself.  She had a theory that$3$ it was only under
106:068,03['  ]| this provision life was worth living; that$3$ one should
106:068,04['  ]| be one of the best, should be conscious of a fine organisation
106:068,05['  ]| (she could not help knowing her organisation
106:068,06['  ]| was fine), should move in$4$ a realm of light,
106:068,07['  ]| of natural wisdom, of happy impulse, of inspiration
106:068,08['  ]| gracefully chronic.  It was almost as unnecessary to$9$ 
106:068,09['  ]| cultivate doubt of one's self as to$9$ cultivate doubt of
106:068,10['  ]| one's best friend: one should try to$9$ be one's own best
106:068,11['  ]| friend and to$9$ give one's self, in$4$ this manner, distinguished
106:068,12['  ]| company.  The girl had a certain nobleness
106:068,13['  ]| of imagination which$6#1$ rendered her a good many services
106:068,14['  ]| and played her a great many tricks.  She spent
106:068,15['  ]| half her time in$4$ thinking of beauty and bravery and
106:068,16['  ]| magnanimity; she had a fixed determination to$9$ regard
106:068,17['  ]| the world as a place of brightness, of free expansion,
106:068,18['  ]| of irresistible action: she held it must be detestable
106:068,19['  ]| to$9$ be afraid or ashamed.  She had an infinite hope
106:068,20['  ]| that$3$ she should never do anything wrong.  She had
106:068,21['  ]| resented so$5#1$ strongly, after discovering them, her mere
106:068,22['  ]| errors of feeling (the discovery always made her tremble 
106:068,23['  ]| as if she had escaped from a trap which$6#1$ might
106:068,24['  ]| have caught her and smothered her) that$3$ the chance
106:068,25['  ]| of inflicting a sensible injury upon$4$ another person,
106:068,26['  ]| presented only as a contingency, caused her at moments 
106:068,27['  ]| to$9$ hold her breath.  That$6#2$ always struck her as
106:068,28['  ]| the worst thing that$6#1$ could happen to$4$ her.  On$4$ the 
106:068,29['  ]| whole, reflectively, she was in$4$ no$2$ uncertainty about 
106:068,30['  ]| the things that$6#1$ were wrong.  She had no$2$ love of their 
106:068,31['  ]| look, but when she fixed them hard she recognised
106:068,32['  ]| them.  
106:068,32@a   | It was wrong to$9$ be mean, to$9$ be jealous, to$9$ be
106:069,01@a   | false, to$9$ be cruel; 
106:069,01['  ]| she had seen very little of the evil
106:069,02['  ]| of the world, but she had seen women who$6#1$ lied and
106:069,03['  ]| who$6#1$ tried to$9$ hurt each other.  Seeing such things had
106:069,04['  ]| quickened her high spirit; it seemed indecent not to$9$
106:069,05['  ]| scorn them.  Of course the danger of a high spirit was
106:069,06['  ]| the danger of inconsistency ~~ the danger of keeping
106:069,07['  ]| up$5$ the flag after the place has surrendered; a sort of
106:069,08['  ]| behaviour so$5#1$ crooked as to$9$ be almost a dishonour to$4$ 
106:069,09['  ]| the flag.  But Isabel, who$6#1$ knew little of the sorts of
106:069,10['  ]| artillery to$4$ which$6#1$ young women are exposed, flattered
106:069,11['  ]| herself that$3$ such contradictions would never be noted
106:069,12['  ]| in$4$ her own conduct.  Her life should always be in$4$
106:069,13['  ]| harmony with the most pleasing impression she should
106:069,14['  ]| produce; 
106:069,14@a   | she would be what she appeared, and she
106:069,15@a   | would appear what she was.  
106:069,15['  ]| Sometimes she went so$5#1$
106:069,16['  ]| far as to$9$ wish that$3$ 
106:069,16@a   | she might find herself some day
106:069,17@a   | in$4$ a difficult position, so$3$ that$3$ she should have the 
106:069,18@a   | pleasure of being as heroic as the occasion demanded.
106:069,19['  ]| Altogether, with her meagre knowledge, her inflated
106:069,20['  ]| ideals, her confidence at once innocent and dogmatic,
106:069,21['  ]| her temper at once exacting and indulgent, her mixture 
106:069,22['  ]| of curiosity and fastidiousness, of vivacity and
106:069,23['  ]| indifference, her desire to$9$ look very well and to$9$ be if
106:069,24['  ]| possible even better, her determination to$9$ see, to$9$ try,
106:069,25['  ]| to$9$ know, her combination of the delicate, desultory,
106:069,26['  ]| flame-like spirit and the eager and personal creature
106:069,27['  ]| of conditions: she would be an easy victim of scientific
106:069,28['  ]| criticism if she were not intended to$9$ awaken on$4$
106:069,29['  ]| the reader's part an impulse more tender and more
106:069,30['  ]| purely expectant.
106:069,31['  ]| It was one of her theories that$3$ Isabel*Archer was
106:069,32['  ]| very fortunate in$4$ being independent, and that$3$ she   
106:070,01['  ]| ought to$9$ make some very enlightened use of that$6#2$ state.
106:070,02['  ]| She never called it the state of solitude, much less of
106:070,03['  ]| singleness; she thought such descriptions weak, and,
106:070,04['  ]| besides, her sister Lily constantly urged her to$9$ come
106:070,05['  ]| and abide.  She had a friend whose acquaintance she
106:070,06['  ]| had made shortly before her father's death, who$6#1$ offered
106:070,07['  ]| so$5#1$ high an example of useful activity that$3$ Isabel 
106:070,08['  ]| always thought of her as a model.  Henrietta*Stackpole
106:070,09['  ]| had the advantage of an admired ability; she
106:070,10['  ]| was thoroughly launched in$4$ journalism, and her letters
106:070,11['  ]| to$4$ the \Interviewer\, from Washington, Newport,
106:070,12['  ]| the White*Mountains and other places, were universally
106:070,13['  ]| quoted.  Isabel pronounced them with confidence
106:070,14[A  ]| "ephemeral," 
106:070,14['  ]| but she esteemed the courage,
106:070,15['  ]| energy and good-humour of the writer, who$6#1$, without
106:070,16['  ]| parents and without property, had adopted three of
106:070,17['  ]| the children of an infirm and widowed sister and was
106:070,18['  ]| paying their school-bills out of the proceeds of her
106:070,19['  ]| literary labour.  Henrietta was in$4$ the van of progress
106:070,20['  ]| and had clear-cut views on$4$ most subjects; her
106:070,21['  ]| cherished desire had long been to$9$ come to$4$ Europe
106:070,22['  ]| and write a series of letters to$4$ the \Interviewer\ from
106:070,23['  ]| the radical point of view ~~ an enterprise the less
106:070,24['  ]| difficult as she knew perfectly in$4$ advance what her 
106:070,25['  ]| opinions would be and to$4$ how many objections most
106:070,26['  ]| European institutions lay open.  When she heard that$3$
106:070,27['  ]| Isabel was coming she wished to$9$ start at once; thinking,
106:070,28['  ]| naturally, that$3$ it would be delightful the two
106:070,29['  ]| should travel together.  She had been obliged, however,
106:070,30['  ]| to$9$ postpone this enterprise.  She thought Isabel
106:070,31['  ]| a glorious creature, and had spoken of her covertly in$4$
106:070,32['  ]| some of her letters, though she never mentioned the
106:071,01['  ]| fact to$4$ her friend, who$6#1$ would not have taken pleasure
106:071,02['  ]| in$4$ it and was not a regular student of the \Interviewer.\
106:071,03['  ]| Henrietta, for$4$ Isabel, was chiefly a proof that$3$ a
106:071,04['  ]| woman might suffice to$4$ herself and be happy.  
106:071,04@a   | Her
106:071,05@a   | resources were of the obvious kind; but even if one
106:071,06@a   | had not the journalistic talent and a genius for$4$ guessing,
106:071,07@a   | as Henrietta said, what the public was going to$9$
106:071,08@a   | want, one was not therefore to$9$ conclude that$3$ one had
106:071,09@a   | no$2$ vocation, no$2$ beneficent aptitude of any sort, and
106:071,10@a   | resign one's self to$4$ being frivolous and hollow.  
106:071,10['  ]| Isabel
106:071,11['  ]| was stoutly determined not to$9$ be hollow.  
106:071,11@a   | If one should
106:071,12@a   | wait with the right patience one would find some
106:071,13@a   | happy work to$4$ one's hand.  
106:071,13['  ]| Of course, among her
106:071,14['  ]| theories, this young lady was not without a collection
106:071,15['  ]| of views on$4$ the subject of marriage.  The first on$4$ the
106:071,16['  ]| list was a conviction of the vulgarity of thinking too
106:071,17['  ]| much of it.  From lapsing into eagerness on$4$ this point
106:071,18['  ]| she earnestly prayed she might be delivered; she
106:071,19['  ]| held that$3$ a woman ought to$9$ be able to$9$ live to$4$ herself,
106:071,20['  ]| in$4$ the absence of exceptional flimsiness, and that$3$ it
106:071,21['  ]| was perfectly possible to$9$ be happy without the society
106:071,22['  ]| of a more or less coarse-minded person of another
106:071,23['  ]| sex.  The girl's prayer was very sufficiently answered;
106:071,24['  ]| something pure and proud that$6#1$ there was in$4$ her ~~
106:071,25['  ]| something cold and dry an unappreciated suitor with
106:071,26['  ]| a taste for$4$ analysis might have called it ~~ had
106:071,27['  ]| hitherto kept her from any great vanity of conjecture
106:071,28['  ]| on$4$ the article of possible husbands.  Few of the men
106:071,29['  ]| she saw seemed worth a ruinuous expenditure, and it
106:071,30['  ]| made her smile to$9$ think that$3$ one of them should 
106:071,31['  ]| present himself as an incentive to$9$ hope and a reward
106:071,32['  ]| of patience.  Deep in$4$ her soul ~~ it was the deepest
106:072,01['  ]| thing there ~~ lay a belief that$3$ if a certain light should
106:072,02['  ]| dawn she could give herself completely; but this
106:072,03['  ]| image, on$4$ the whole, was too formidable to$9$ be attractive.
106:072,04['  ]| Isabel's thoughts hovered about it, but they
106:072,05['  ]| seldom rested on$4$ it long; after a little it ended in$4$
106:072,06['  ]| alarms.  It often seemed to$4$ her that$3$ she thought too
106:072,07['  ]| much about herself; you could have made her colour,
106:072,08['  ]| any day in$4$ the year, by$4$ calling her a rank egoist.
106:072,09['  ]| She was always planning out her development, desiring
106:072,10['  ]| her perfection, observing her progress.  Her
106:072,11['  ]| nature had, in$4$ her conceit, a certain garden-like quality,
106:072,12['  ]| a suggestion of perfume and murmuring boughs,
106:072,13['  ]| of shady bowers and lengthening vistas, which$6#1$ made
106:072,14['  ]| her feel that$3$ introspection was, after all, an exercise
106:072,15['  ]| in$4$ the open air, and that$3$ a visit to$4$ the recesses of one's
106:072,16['  ]| spirit was harmless when one returned from it with
106:072,17['  ]| a lapful of roses.  But she was often reminded that$3$
106:072,18['  ]| there were other gardens in$4$ the world than those of
106:072,19['  ]| her remarkable soul, and that$3$ there were moreover
106:072,20['  ]| a great many places which$6#1$ were not gardens at all ~~
106:072,21['  ]| only dusky pesiferous tracts, planted thick with ugliness
106:072,22['  ]| and misery.  In$4$ the current of that$6#2$ repaid curiosity
106:072,23['  ]| on$4$ which$6#1$ she had lately been floating, which$6#1$ had
106:072,24['  ]| conveyed her to$4$ this beautiful old England and might
106:072,25['  ]| carry her much further still, she often checked herself
106:072,26['  ]| with the thought of the thousands of people who$6#1$ were
106:072,27['  ]| less happy than herself ~~ a thought which$6#1$ for$4$ the moment 
106:072,28['  ]| made her fine, full consciousness appear a kind
106:072,29['  ]| of immodesty.  
106:072,29@a   | What should one do with the misery of
106:072,30@a   | the world in$4$ a scheme of the agreeable for$4$ one's self?
106:072,31['  ]| It must be confessed that$3$ this question never held her
106:072,32['  ]| long.  She was too young, too impatient to$9$ live, too
106:073,01['  ]| unacquainted with pain.  She always returned to$4$
106:073,02['  ]| her theory that$3$ a young woman whom after all every*one
106:073,03['  ]| thought clever should begin by$4$ getting a general
106:073,04['  ]| impression of life.  This impression was necessary
106:073,05['  ]| to$9$ prevent mistakes, and after it should be secured
106:073,06['  ]| she might make the unfortunate condition of others
106:073,07['  ]| a subject of special attention.
106:073,08['  ]| England was a revelation to$4$ her, and she found
106:073,09['  ]| herself as diverted as a child at a pantomime.  In$4$ her
106:073,10['  ]| infantine excursions to$4$ Europe she had seen only the 
106:073,11['  ]| Continent, and seen it from the nursery window;
106:073,12['  ]| Paris, not London, was her father's Mecca, and into
106:073,13['  ]| many of his interests there his children had naturally
106:073,14['  ]| not entered.  The images of that$6#2$ time moreover had
106:073,15['  ]| grown faint and remote, and the old-world quality
106:073,16['  ]| in$4$ everything that$6#1$ she now saw had all the charm of
106:073,17['  ]| strangeness.  Her uncle's house seemed a picture
106:073,18['  ]| made real; no$2$ refinement of the agreeable was lost
106:073,19['  ]| upon$4$ Isabel; the rich perfection of Gardencourt at
106:073,20['  ]| once revealed a world and gratified a need.  The large,
106:073,21['  ]| low rooms, with brown ceilings and dusky corners,
106:073,22['  ]| the deep embrasures and curious casements, the 
106:073,23['  ]| quiet light on$4$ dark, polished panels, the deep greenness
106:073,24['  ]| outside, that$6#1$ seemed always peeping in$5$, the sense
106:073,25['  ]| of well-ordered privacy in$4$ the centre of a "property"
106:073,26['  ]| ~~ a place where sounds were felicitously accidental,
106:073,27['  ]| where the tread was muffled by$4$ the earth itself and
106:073,28['  ]| in$4$ the thick mild air all friction dropped out of contact 
106:073,29['  ]| and all shrillness out of talk ~~ these things were
106:073,30['  ]| much to$4$ the taste of our young lady, whose taste
106:073,31['  ]| played a considerable part in$4$ her emotions.  She 
106:073,32['  ]| formed a fast friendship with her uncle, and often sat
106:074,01['  ]| by$4$ his chair when he had had it moved out to$4$ the lawn.
106:074,02['  ]| He passed hours in$4$ the open air, sitting with folded
106:074,03['  ]| hands like$4$ a placid, homely household god, a god of
106:074,04['  ]| service, who$6#1$ had done his work and received his wages
106:074,05['  ]| and was trying to$9$ grow used to$4$ weeks and months
106:074,06['  ]| made up$5$ only of off-days.  Isabel amused him more
106:074,07['  ]| than she suspected ~~ the effect she produced upon$4$
106:074,08['  ]| people was often different from what she supposed
106:074,09['  ]| ~~ and he frequently gave himself the pleasure of
106:074,10['  ]| making her chatter.  It was by$4$ this term that$3$ he qualified
106:074,11['  ]| her conversation, which$6#1$ had much of the "point"
106:074,12['  ]| observable in$4$ that$6#2$ of the young ladies of her country,
106:074,13['  ]| to$4$ whom the ear of the world is more directly presented
106:074,14['  ]| than to$4$ their sisters in$4$ other lands.  Like$4$ the
106:074,15['  ]| mass of American girls Isabel had been encouraged
106:074,16['  ]| to$9$ express herself; her remarks had been attended
106:074,17['  ]| to$4$; she had been expected to$9$ have emotions and opinions.
106:074,18['  ]| Many of her opinions had doubtless but a slender
106:074,19['  ]| value, many of her emotions passed away in$4$ the 
106:074,20['  ]| utterance; but they had left a trace in$4$ giving her the
106:074,21['  ]| habit of seeming at least to$9$ feel and think, and in$4$ imparting
106:074,22['  ]| moreover to$4$ her words when she was  really
106:074,23['  ]| moved that$6#2$ prompt vividness which$6#1$ so$5#1$ many people
106:074,24['  ]| had regarded as a sign of superiority.  Mr%*Touchett
106:074,25['  ]| used to$9$ think that$3$ 
106:074,25@f   | she reminded him of his wife when
106:074,26@f   | his wife was in$4$ her teens.  It was because she was
106:074,27@f   | fresh and natural and quick to$9$ understand, to$9$ speak
106:074,28@f   | ~~ so$5#1$ many characteristics of her niece ~~ that$3$ he had
106:074,29@f   | fallen in$4$ love with Mrs%*Touchett.  
106:074,29['  ]| He never expressed
106:074,30['  ]| this analogy to$4$ the girl herself, however; for$3$ if Mrs%*Touchett
106:074,31['  ]| had once been like$4$ Isabel, Isabel was not
106:074,32['  ]| at all like$4$ Mrs%*Touchett.  The old man was full of 
106:075,01['  ]| kindness for$4$ her; 
106:075,01@f   | it was a long time, 
106:075,01['  ]| as he said, 
106:075,01@f   | since
106:075,02@f   | they had had any young life in$4$ the house; 
106:075,02['  ]| and our
106:075,03['  ]| rustling, quickly-moving, clear-voiced heroine was as
106:075,04['  ]| agreeable to$4$ his sense as the sound of flowing water.
106:075,05['  ]| He wanted to$9$ do something for$4$ her and wished she
106:075,06['  ]| would ask it of him.  She would ask nothing but
106:075,07['  ]| questions; it is true that$3$ of these she asked a quantity.
106:075,08['  ]| Her uncle had a great fund of answers, though her
106:075,09['  ]| pressure sometimes came in$4$ forms that$6#1$ puzzled him.
106:075,10['  ]| She questioned him immensely about England, about 
106:075,11['  ]| the British constitution, the English character, the 
106:075,12['  ]| state of politics, the manners and customs of the royal
106:075,13['  ]| family, the peculiarities of the aristocracy, the way
106:075,14['  ]| of living and thinking of his neighbours; and in$4$ begging
106:075,15['  ]| to$9$ be enlightened on$4$ these points she usually
106:075,16['  ]| enquired whether they corresponded with the descriptions
106:075,17['  ]| in$4$ the books.  The old man always looked
106:075,18['  ]| at her a little with his fine dry smile while he
106:075,19['  ]| smoothed down the shawl spread across his legs.
106:075,20[F  ]| "The books?" 
106:075,20['  ]| he once said; 
106:075,20[F  ]| "well, I do not know
106:075,21[F  ]| much about the books.  You must ask Ralph about
106:075,22[F  ]| that$6#2$.  I have always ascertained for$4$ myself ~~ got my
106:075,23[F  ]| information in$4$ the natural form.  I never asked many
106:075,24[F  ]| questions even; I just kept quiet and took notice.
106:075,25[F  ]| Of course I have had very good opportunities ~~ better
106:075,26[F  ]| than what a young lady would naturally have.  I am
106:075,27[F  ]| of an inquisitive disposition, though you might not
106:075,28[F  ]| think it if you were to$9$ watch me: however much
106:075,29[F  ]| you might watch me I should be watching you more.
106:075,30[F  ]| I have been watching these people for$4$ upwards of
106:075,31[F  ]| thirty-five years, and I do not hesitate to$9$ say that$3$
106:075,32[F  ]| I have acquired considerable information.  It is a very
106:076,01[F  ]| fine country on$4$ the whole ~~ finer perhaps than what 
106:076,02[F  ]| we give it credit for$4$ on$4$ the other side.  There are
106:076,03[F  ]| several improvements I should like$1$ to$9$ see introduced;
106:076,04[F  ]| but the necessity of them does not seem to$9$ be
106:076,05[F  ]| generally felt as yet.  When the necessity of a thing
106:076,06[F  ]| is generally felt they usually manage to$9$ accomplish it;
106:076,07[F  ]| but they seem to$9$ feel pretty comfortable about waiting 
106:076,08[F  ]| till then.  I certainly feel more at home among
106:076,09[F  ]| them than I expected to$9$ when I first came over;
106:076,10[F  ]| I suppose it is because I have had a considerable degree
106:076,11[F  ]| of success.  When you are successful you naturally
106:076,12[F  ]| feel more at home."
106:076,13[A  ]| "Do you suppose that$3$ if I am successful I shall feel
106:076,14[A  ]| at home?" 
106:076,14['  ]| Isabel asked.
106:076,15[F  ]| "I should think it very probable, and you certainly
106:076,16[F  ]| will$1$ be successful.  They like$1$ American young ladies
106:076,17[F  ]| very much over here; they show them a great deal of
106:076,18[F  ]| kindness.  But you must not feel too much at home, 
106:076,19[F  ]| you know."
106:076,20[A  ]| "Oh, I am by$4$ no$2$ means sure it will$1$ \satisfy\ me,"
106:076,21['  ]| Isabel judicially emphasised.  
106:076,21[A  ]| "I like$1$ the place very
106:076,22[A  ]| much, but I am not sure I shall like$1$ the people."
106:076,23[F  ]| "The people are very good people; especially if you
106:076,24[F  ]| like$1$ them."
106:076,25[A  ]| "I have no$2$ doubt they are good," 
106:076,25['  ]| Isabel rejoined;
106:076,26[A  ]| "but are they pleasant in$4$ society?  They will$1$ not rob
106:076,27[A  ]| me nor beat me; but will$1$ they make themselves agreeable 
106:076,28[A  ]| to$4$ me?  That$6#2$ is what I like$1$ people to$9$ do.  I do not
106:076,29[A  ]| hesitate to$9$ say so$5#2$, because I always appreciate it.  I
106:076,30[A  ]| do not believe they are very nice to$4$ girls; they are not
106:076,31[A  ]| nice to$4$ them in$4$ the novels."
106:076,32[F  ]| "I do not know about the novels," 
106:076,32['  ]| said Mr%*Touchett.
106:077,01[F  ]| "I believe the novels have a great deal of ability,
106:077,02[F  ]| but I do not suppose they are very accurate.  We once
106:077,03[F  ]| had a lady who$6#1$ wrote novels staying here; she was
106:077,04[F  ]| a friend of Ralph's and he asked her down.  She 
106:077,05[F  ]| was very positive, quite up$5$ to$4$ everything; but she was
106:077,06[F  ]| not the sort of person you could depend on$5$ for$4$ evidence.
106:077,07[F  ]| Too free a fancy ~~ I suppose that$6#2$ was it.
106:077,08[F  ]| She afterwards published a work of fiction in$4$ which$6#1$
106:077,09[F  ]| she was understood to$9$ have given a representation ~~
106:077,10[F  ]| something in$4$ the nature of a caricature, as you might
106:077,11[F  ]| say ~~ of my unworthy self.  I did not read it, but
106:077,12[F  ]| Ralph just handed me the book with the principal
106:077,13[F  ]| passages marked.  It was understood to$9$ be a description
106:077,14[F  ]| of my conversation; American peculiarities,
106:077,15[F  ]| nasal twang, Yankee notions, stars and stripes.  Well,
106:077,16[F  ]| it was not at all accurate; she could not have listened
106:077,17[F  ]| very attentively.  I had no$2$ objection to$4$ her giving a 
106:077,18[F  ]| report of my conversation, if she liked; but I did not
106:077,19[F  ]| like$1$ the idea that$3$ she had not taken the trouble to$9$ listen
106:077,20[F  ]| to$4$ it.  Of course I talk like$3$ an American ~~ I can not talk
106:077,21[F  ]| like$3$ a Hottentot.  However I talk, I have made them
106:077,22[F  ]| understand me pretty well over here.  But I do not
106:077,23[F  ]| talk like$3$ the old gentleman in$4$ that$6#2$ lady's novel.  He
106:077,24[F  ]| was not an American; we would not have him over
106:077,25[F  ]| there at any price.  I just mention that$6#2$ fact to$9$ show
106:077,26[F  ]| you that$3$ they are not always accurate.  Of course, as
106:077,27[F  ]| I have no$2$ daughters, and as Mrs%*Touchett resides in$4$
106:077,28[F  ]| Florence, I have not had much chance to$9$ notice about
106:077,29[F  ]| the young ladies.  It sometimes appears as if the 
106:077,30[F  ]| young women in$4$ the lower class were not very well
106:077,31[F  ]| treated; but I guess their position is better in$4$ the
106:077,32[F  ]| upper and even to$4$ some extent in$4$ the middle."
106:078,01[A  ]| "Gracious," 
106:078,01['  ]| Isabel exclaimed; 
106:078,01[A  ]| "how many classes
106:078,02[A  ]| have they?  About fifty, I suppose."
106:078,03[F  ]| "Well, I do not know that$3$ I ever counted them.
106:078,04[F  ]| I never took much notice of the classes.  That$6#2$ is 
106:078,05[F  ]| the advantage of being an American here; you do not
106:078,06[F  ]| belong to$4$ any class."
106:078,07[A  ]| "I hope so$5#2$," 
106:078,07['  ]| said Isabel.  
106:078,07[A  ]| "Imagine one's belonging
106:078,08[A  ]| to$4$ an English class!"
106:078,09[F  ]| "Well, I guess some of them are pretty comfortable
106:078,10[F  ]| ~~ especially towards the top.  But for$4$ me there are
106:078,11[F  ]| only two classes: the people I trust and the people
106:078,12[F  ]| I do not.  Of those two, my dear Isabel, you belong to$4$ 
106:078,13[F  ]| the first."
106:078,14[A  ]| "I am much obliged to$4$ you," 
106:078,14['  ]| said the girl quickly.
106:078,15['  ]| Her way of taking compliments seemed sometimes
106:078,16['  ]| rather dry; she got rid of them as rapidly as possible.
106:078,17['  ]| But as regards this she was sometimes misjudged;
106:078,18['  ]| she was thought insensible to$4$ them, whereas in$4$ fact
106:078,19['  ]| she was simply unwilling to$9$ show how infinitely they
106:078,20['  ]| pleased her.  
106:078,20@a   | To$9$ show that$6#2$ was to$9$ show too much.
106:078,21[A  ]| "I am sure the English are very conventional," 
106:078,21['  ]| she
106:078,22['  ]| added.
106:078,23[F  ]| "They have got everything pretty well fixed," 
106:078,23['  ]| Mr%*Touchett
106:078,24['  ]| admitted.  
106:078,24[F  ]| "It is all settled beforehand ~~
106:078,25[F  ]| they do not leave it to$4$ the last moment."
106:078,26[A  ]| "I do not like$1$ to$9$ have everything settled beforehand,"
106:078,27['  ]| said the girl.  
106:078,27[A  ]| "I like$1$ more unexpectedness."
106:078,28['  ]| Her uncle seemed amused at her distinctness of
106:078,29['  ]| preference.  
106:078,29[F  ]| "Well, it is settled beforehand that$3$ you will$1$
106:078,30[F  ]| have great success," 
106:078,30['  ]| he rejoined.  
106:078,30[F  ]| "I suppose you will$1$
106:078,31[F  ]| like$1$ that$6#2$."
106:078,32[A  ]| "I shall not have success if they are too stupidly
106:079,01[A  ]| conventional.  I am not in$4$ the least stupidly conventional.
106:079,02[A  ]| I am just the contrary.  That$6#2$ is what they 
106:079,03[A  ]| will$1$ not like$1$."
106:079,04[F  ]| "No$7$, no$7$, you are all wrong," 
106:079,04['  ]| said the old man.
106:079,05[F  ]| "You can not tell what they will$1$ like$1$.  They are very inconsistent;
106:079,06[F  ]| that$6#2$ is their principal interest."
106:079,07[A  ]| "Ah well," 
106:079,07['  ]| said Isabel, standing before her uncle
106:079,08['  ]| with her hands clasped about the belt of her black
106:079,09['  ]| dress and looking up$4$ and down the lawn ~~ 
106:079,09[A  ]| "that$6#2$ will$1$
106:079,10[A  ]| suit me perfectly!"
107:080,01['  ]| The two amused themselves, time and again, with
107:080,02['  ]| talking of the attitude of the British public as if the
107:080,03['  ]| young lady had been in$4$ a position to$9$ appeal to$4$ it;
107:080,04['  ]| but in$4$ fact the British public remained for$4$ the present
107:080,05['  ]| profoundly indifferent to$4$ Miss*Isabel*Archer, 
107:080,05@b   | whose
107:080,06@b   | fortune had dropped her, 
107:080,06['  ]| as her cousin said, 
107:080,06@b   | into the
107:080,07@b   | dullest house in$4$ England.  
107:080,07['  ]| Her gouty uncle received
107:080,08['  ]| very little company, and Mrs%*Touchett, not having
107:080,09['  ]| cultivated relations with her husband's neighbours,
107:080,10['  ]| was not warranted in$4$ expecting visits from them.
107:080,11['  ]| She had, however, a peculiar taste; she liked to$9$ receive
107:080,12['  ]| cards.  For$4$ what is usually called social intercourse
107:080,13['  ]| she had very little relish; but nothing pleased
107:080,14['  ]| her more than to$9$ find her hall-table whitened with
107:080,15['  ]| oblong morsels of symbolic pasteboard.  She flattered
107:080,16['  ]| herself that$3$ she was a very just woman, and had
107:080,17['  ]| mastered the sovereign truth that$3$ nothing in$4$ this
107:080,18['  ]| world is got for$4$ nothing.  She had played no$2$ social
107:080,19['  ]| part as mistress of Gardencourt, and it was not to$9$ be
107:080,20['  ]| supposed that$3$, in$4$ the surrounding country, a minute
107:080,21['  ]| account should be kept of her comings and goings.
107:080,22['  ]| But it is by$4$ no$2$ means certain that$3$ she did not feel it
107:080,23['  ]| to$9$ be wrong that$3$ so$5#1$ little notice was taken of them
107:080,24['  ]| and that$3$ her failure (really very gratuitous) to$9$ make
107:080,25['  ]| herself important in$4$ the neighbourhood had not much 
107:080,26['  ]| to$9$ do with the acrimony of her allusions to$4$ her husband's
107:081,01['  ]| adopted country.  Isabel presently found herself
107:081,02['  ]| in$4$ the singular situation of defending the British
107:081,03['  ]| constitution against her aunt; Mrs%*Touchett having
107:081,04['  ]| formed the habit of sticking pins into this venerable
107:081,05['  ]| instrument.  Isabel always felt an impulse to$9$ pull
107:081,06['  ]| out the pins; not that$3$ she imagined they inflicted any
107:081,07['  ]| damage on$4$ the tough old parchment, but because it
107:081,08['  ]| seemed to$4$ her her aunt might make better use of 
107:081,09['  ]| her sharpness.  She was very critical herself ~~ it was
107:081,10['  ]| incidental to$4$ her age, her sex and her nationality;
107:081,11['  ]| but she was very sentimental as well, and there was
107:081,12['  ]| something in$4$ Mrs%*Touchett's dryness that$6#1$ set her
107:081,13['  ]| own moral fountains flowing.
107:081,14[A  ]| "Now what is your point of view?" 
107:081,14['  ]| she asked of
107:081,15['  ]| her aunt.  
107:081,15[A  ]| "When you criticise everything here you
107:081,16[A  ]| should have a point of view.  Yours does not seem to$9$
107:081,17[A  ]| be American ~~ you thought everything over there
107:081,18[A  ]| so$5#1$ disagreeable.  When I criticise I have mine; it is
107:081,19[A  ]| thoroughly American!"
107:081,20[G  ]| "My dear young lady," 
107:081,20['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett,
107:081,21[G  ]| "there are as many points of view in$4$ the world as
107:081,22[G  ]| there are people of sense to$9$ take them.  You may
107:081,23[G  ]| say that$6#2$ does not make them very numerous!  American?
107:081,24[G  ]| Never in$4$ the world; that$6#2$ is shockingly narrow.
107:081,25[G  ]| My point of view, thank God, is personal!"
107:081,26['  ]| Isabel thought this a better answer than she admitted;
107:081,27@a   | it was a tolerable description of her own 
107:081,28@a   | manner of judging, but it would not have sounded
107:081,29@a   | well for$4$ her to$9$ say so$5#2$.  On$4$ the lips of a person less
107:081,30@a   | advanced in$4$ life and less enlightened by$4$ experience
107:081,31@a   | than Mrs%*Touchett such a declaration would savour
107:081,32@a   | of immodesty, even of arrogance.  
107:081,32['  ]| She risked it nevertheless
107:082,01['  ]| in$4$ talking with Ralph, with whom she talked
107:082,02['  ]| a great deal and with whom her conversation was of a
107:082,03['  ]| sort that$6#1$ gave a large licence to$4$ extravagance.  Her
107:082,04['  ]| cousin used, as the phrase is, to$9$ chaff her; he very
107:082,05['  ]| soon established with her a reputation for$4$ treating
107:082,06['  ]| everything as a joke, and he was not a man to$9$ neglect
107:082,07['  ]| the privileges such a reputation conferred.  She
107:082,08['  ]| accused him of an odious want of seriousness, of
107:082,09['  ]| laughing at all things, beginning with himself.  Such
107:082,10['  ]| slender faculty of reverence as he possessed centred
107:082,11['  ]| wholly upon$4$ his father; for$4$ the rest, he exercised his
107:082,12['  ]| wit indifferently upon$4$ his father's son, this gentleman's
107:082,13['  ]| weak lungs, his useless life, his fantastic mother,
107:082,14['  ]| his friends (Lord*Warburton in$4$ especial), his adopted,
107:082,15['  ]| and his native country, his charming new-found
107:082,16['  ]| cousin.  
107:082,16[B  ]| "I keep a band of music in$4$ my ante-room,"
107:082,17['  ]| he said once to$4$ her.  
107:082,17[B  ]| "It has orders to$9$ play without
107:082,18[B  ]| stopping; it renders me two excellent services.  It 
107:082,19[B  ]| keeps the sounds of the world from reaching the 
107:082,20[B  ]| private apartments, and it makes the world think
107:082,21[B  ]| that$3$ dancing is going on$5$ within."  
107:082,21['  ]| It was dance-music
107:082,22['  ]| indeed that$6#1$ you usually heard when you came within
107:082,23['  ]| ear-shot of Ralph's band; the liveliest waltzes
107:082,24['  ]| seemed to$9$ float upon$4$ the air.  Isabel often found herself
107:082,25['  ]| irritated by$4$ this perpetual fiddling; 
107:082,25@a   | she would
107:082,26@a   | have liked to$9$ pass through the ante-room, 
107:082,26['  ]| as her cousin
107:082,27['  ]| called it, 
107:082,27@a   | and enter the private apartments.  It
107:082,28@a   | mattered little that$3$ he had assured her they were a 
107:082,29@a   | very dismal place; she would have been glad to$9$ undertake
107:082,30@a   | to$9$ sweep them and set them in$4$ order.  It was but
107:082,31@a   | half-hospitality to$9$ let her remain outside; 
107:082,31['  ]| to$9$ punish
107:082,32['  ]| him for$4$ which$6#1$ Isabel administered innumerable taps
107:083,01['  ]| with the ferule of her straight young wit.  It must be
107:083,02['  ]| said that$3$ her wit was exercised to$4$ a large extent in$4$
107:083,03['  ]| self-defence, for$3$ her cousin amused himself with
107:083,04['  ]| calling her 
107:083,04[B  ]| "Columbia" 
107:083,04['  ]| and accusing her of 
107:083,04@b   | a patriotism
107:083,05@b   | so$5#1$ heated that$3$ it scorched.  
107:083,05['  ]| He drew a caricature
107:083,06['  ]| of her in$4$ which$6#1$ she was represented as a very pretty
107:083,07['  ]| young woman dressed, on$4$ the lines of the prevailing
107:083,08['  ]| fashion, in$4$ the folds of the national banner.  Isabel's
107:083,09['  ]| chief dread in$4$ life at this period of her development
107:083,10['  ]| was that$3$ she should appear narrow-minded; what
107:083,11['  ]| she feared next afterwards was that$3$ she should
107:083,12['  ]| really be so$5#2$.  But she nevertheless made no$2$ scruple of
107:083,13['  ]| abounding in$4$ her cousin's sense and pretending to$9$
107:083,14['  ]| sigh for$4$ the charms of her native land.  
107:083,14@a   | She would
107:083,15@a   | be as American as it pleased him to$9$ regard her, and
107:083,16@a   | if he chose to$9$ laugh at her she would give him plenty
107:083,17@a   | of occupation.  
107:083,17['  ]| She defended England against his
107:083,18['  ]| mother, but when Ralph sang its praises 
107:083,18@a   | on$4$ purpose,
107:083,19['  ]| as she said, 
107:083,19@a   | to$9$ work her up$5$, 
107:083,19['  ]| she found herself able
107:083,20['  ]| to$9$ differ from him on$4$ a variety of points.  In$4$ fact,
107:083,21['  ]| the quality of this small ripe country seemed as sweet
107:083,22['  ]| to$4$ her as the taste of an October pear; and her
107:083,23['  ]| satisfaction was at the root of the good spirits which$6#1$
107:083,24['  ]| enabled her to$9$ take her cousin's chaff and return it
107:083,25['  ]| in$4$ kind.  If her good-humour flagged at moments
107:083,26['  ]| it was not because she thought herself ill-used, but
107:083,27['  ]| because she suddenly felt sorry for$4$ Ralph.  It seemed
107:083,28['  ]| to$4$ her 
107:083,28@a   | he was talking as a blind and had little heart
107:083,29@a   | in$4$ what he said.
107:083,30[A  ]| "I do not know what is the matter with you," 
107:083,30['  ]| she
107:083,31['  ]| observed to$4$ him once; 
107:083,31[A  ]| "but I suspect you are a great
107:083,32[A  ]| humbug."
107:084,01[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is your privilege," 
107:084,01['  ]| Ralph answered, who$6#1$
107:084,02['  ]| had not been used to$9$ being so$5#1$ crudely addressed.
107:084,03[A  ]| "I do not know what you care for$4$; I do not think
107:084,04[A  ]| you care for$4$ anything.  You do not really care for$4$ England
107:084,05[A  ]| when you praise it; you do not care for$4$ America
107:084,06[A  ]| even when you pretend to$9$ abuse it."
107:084,07[B  ]| "I care for$4$ nothing but you, dear cousin," 
107:084,07['  ]| said
107:084,08['  ]| Ralph.
107:084,09[A  ]| "If I could believe even that$6#2$, I should be very
107:084,10[A  ]| glad."
107:084,11[B  ]| "Ah well, I should hope so$5#2$!" 
107:084,11['  ]| the young man
107:084,12['  ]| exclaimed.
107:084,13['  ]| Isabel might have believed it and not have been
107:084,14['  ]| far from the truth.  He thought a great deal about her;
107:084,15['  ]| she was constantly present to$4$ his mind.  At a time
107:084,16['  ]| when his thoughts had been a good deal of a burden
107:084,17['  ]| to$4$ him her sudden arrival, which$6#1$ promised nothing
107:084,18['  ]| and was an open-handed gift of fate, had refreshed
107:084,19['  ]| and quickened them, given them wings and something
107:084,20['  ]| to$9$ fly for$4$.  Poor Ralph had been for$4$ many weeks
107:084,21['  ]| steeped in$4$ melancholy; his outlook, habitually
107:084,22['  ]| sombre, lay under the shadow of a deeper cloud.
107:084,23['  ]| He had grown anxious about his father, whose gout,
107:084,24['  ]| hitherto confined to$4$ his legs, had begun to$9$ ascend
107:084,25['  ]| into regions more vital.  The old man had been gravely
107:084,26['  ]| ill in$4$ the spring, and the doctors had whispered to$4$
107:084,27['  ]| Ralph that$3$ 
107:084,27@x   | another attack would be less easy to$9$ deal
107:084,28@x   | with.  
107:084,28['  ]| Just now he appeared disburdened of pain,
107:084,29['  ]| but Ralph could not rid himself of a suspicion that$3$
107:084,30@b   | this was a subterfuge of the enemy, who$6#1$ was waiting
107:084,31@b   | to$9$ take him off his guard.  If the manoeuvre should
107:084,32@b   | succeed there would be little hope of any great resistance.
107:085,01['  ]| Ralph had always taken for$4$ granted that$3$
107:085,02@b   | his father would survive him ~~ that$3$ his own name
107:085,03@b   | would be the first grimly called.  
107:085,03['  ]| The father and son
107:085,04['  ]| had been close companions, and the idea of being
107:085,05['  ]| left alone with the remnant of a tasteless life on$4$ his
107:085,06['  ]| hands was not gratifying to$4$ the young man, who$6#1$
107:085,07['  ]| had always and tacitly counted upon$4$ his elder's help
107:085,08['  ]| in$4$ making the best of a poor business.  At the prospect
107:085,09['  ]| of losing his great motive Ralph lost indeed his one
107:085,10['  ]| inspiration.  
107:085,10@b   | If they might die at the same time it
107:085,11@b   | would be all very well; but without the encouragement
107:085,12@b   | of his father's society he should barely have
107:085,13@b   | patience to$9$ await his own turn.  
107:085,13['  ]| He had not the 
107:085,14['  ]| incentive of feeling that$3$ he was indispensable to$4$ his
107:085,15['  ]| mother; it was a rule with his mother to$9$ have no$2$ 
107:085,16['  ]| regrets.  He bethought himself of course that$3$ it had
107:085,17['  ]| been a small kindness to$4$ his father to$9$ wish that$3$, of
107:085,18['  ]| the two, the active rather than the passive party
107:085,19['  ]| should know the felt wound; he remembered that$3$
107:085,20['  ]| the old man had always treated his own forecast of
107:085,21['  ]| an early end as a clever fallacy, which$6#1$ he should be
107:085,22['  ]| delighted to$9$ discredit so$5#1$ far as he might by$4$ dying
107:085,23['  ]| first.  But of the two triumphs, that$6#2$ of refuting a
107:085,24['  ]| sophistical son and that$6#2$ of holding on$5$ a while longer
107:085,25['  ]| to$4$ a state of being which$6#1$, with all abatements, he
107:085,26['  ]| enjoyed, Ralph deemed it no$2$ sin to$9$ hope the latter
107:085,27['  ]| might be vouchsafed to$4$ Mr%*Touchett.
107:085,28['  ]| These were nice questions, but Isabel's arrival put
107:085,29['  ]| a stop to$4$ his puzzling over them.  It even suggested
107:085,30['  ]| there might be a compensation for$4$ the intolerable
107:085,31['  ]| ennui of surviving his genial sire.  He wondered
107:085,32['  ]| whether he were harbouring "love" for$4$ this spontaneous
107:086,01['  ]| young woman from Albany; but he judged
107:086,02['  ]| that$3$ on$4$ the whole he was not.  After he had known her
107:086,03['  ]| for$4$ a week he quite made up$5$ his mind to$4$ this, and
107:086,04['  ]| every day he felt a little more sure.  
107:086,04@b   | Lord*Warburton
107:086,05@b   | had been right about her; she was a really interesting
107:086,06@b   | little figure.  
107:086,06['  ]| Ralph wondered how their neighbour
107:086,07['  ]| had found it out so$5#1$ soon; and then he said 
107:086,07@b   | it was
107:086,08@b   | only another proof of his friend's high abilities, which$6#1$
107:086,09@b   | he had always greatly admired.  
107:086,09['  ]| If his cousin were to$9$ 
107:086,10['  ]| be nothing more than an entertainment to$4$ him, Ralph
107:086,11['  ]| was conscious she was an entertainment of a high
107:086,12['  ]| order.  
107:086,12[B  ]| "A character like$4$ that$6#2$," 
107:086,12['  ]| he said to$4$ himself ~~
107:086,13[B  ]| "a real little passionate force to$9$ see at play is
107:086,14[B  ]| the finest thing in$4$ nature.  It is finer than the finest
107:086,15[B  ]| work of art ~~ than a Greek bas-relief, than a great
107:086,16[B  ]| Titian, than a Gothic cathedral.  It is very pleasant
107:086,17[B  ]| to$9$ be so$5#1$ well treated where one had least looked for$4$
107:086,18[B  ]| it.  I had never been more blue, more bored, than for$4$ 
107:086,19[B  ]| a week before she came; I had never expected less
107:086,20[B  ]| that$3$ anything pleasant would happen.  Suddenly
107:086,21[B  ]| I receive a Titian, by$4$ the post, to$9$ hang on$4$ my wall ~~
107:086,22[B  ]| a Greek bas-relief to$9$ stick over my chimney-piece.
107:086,23[B  ]| The key of a beautiful edifice is thrust into my hand,
107:086,24[B  ]| and I am told to$9$ walk in$5$ and admire.  My poor boy,
107:086,25[B  ]| you have been sadly ungrateful, and now you had better
107:086,26[B  ]| keep very quiet and never grumble again."  
107:086,26['  ]| The  
107:086,27['  ]| sentiment of these reflexions was very just; but it
107:086,28['  ]| was not exactly true that$3$ Ralph*Touchett had had
107:086,29['  ]| a key put into his hand.  His cousin was 
107:086,29@b   | a very brilliant
107:086,30@b   | girl, who$6#1$ would take, 
107:086,30['  ]| as he said, 
107:086,30@b   | a good deal of
107:086,31@b   | knowing; 
107:086,31['  ]| but she needed the knowing, and his attitude
107:086,32['  ]| with regard to$4$ her, though it was contemplative
107:087,01['  ]| and critical, was not judicial.  He surveyed the edifice
107:087,02['  ]| from the outside and admired it greatly; he looked
107:087,03['  ]| in$5$ at the windows and received an impression of proportions 
107:087,04['  ]| equally fair.  But he felt that$3$ he saw it only 
107:087,05['  ]| by$4$ glimpses and that$3$ he had not yet stood under the 
107:087,06['  ]| roof.  The door was fastened, and though he had
107:087,07['  ]| keys in$4$ his pocket he had a conviction that$3$ none of
107:087,08['  ]| them would fit.  
107:087,08@b   | She was intelligent and generous; it
107:087,09@b   | was a fine free nature; but what was she going to$9$ do
107:087,10@b   | with herself?  This question was irregular, for$3$ with
107:087,11@b   | most women one had no$2$ occasion to$9$ ask it.  Most
107:087,12@b   | women did with themselves nothing at all; they
107:087,13@b   | waited, in$4$ attitudes more or less gracefully passive,
107:087,14@b   | for$4$ a man to$9$ come that$6#2$ way and furnish them with
107:087,15@b   | a destiny.  Isabel's originality was that$3$ she gave one
107:087,16@b   | an impression of having intentions of her own.
107:087,17[B  ]| "Whenever she executes them," 
107:087,17['  ]| said Ralph, 
107:087,17[B  ]| "may
107:087,18[B  ]| I be there to$9$ see!"
107:087,19['  ]| It devolved upon$4$ him of course to$9$ do the honours of
107:087,20['  ]| the place.  Mr%*Touchett was confined to$4$ his chair, and
107:087,21['  ]| his wife's position was that$6#2$ of rather a grim visitor;
107:087,22['  ]| so$3$ that$3$ in$4$ the line of conduct that$6#1$ opened itself to$4$
107:087,23['  ]| Ralph duty and inclination were harmoniously mixed.
107:087,24['  ]| He was not a great walker, but he strolled about the 
107:087,25['  ]| grounds with his cousin ~~ a pastime for$4$ which$6#1$ the 
107:087,26['  ]| weather remained favourable with a persistency not
107:087,27['  ]| allowed for$4$ in$4$ Isabel's somewhat lugubrious prevision
107:087,28['  ]| of the climate; and in$4$ the long afternoons,
107:087,29['  ]| of which$6#1$ the length was but the measure of her gratified
107:087,30['  ]| eagerness, they took a boat on$4$ the river, 
107:087,30@a   | the dear
107:087,31@a   | little river, 
107:087,31['  ]| as Isabel called it, where the opposite
107:087,32['  ]| shore seemed still a part of the foreground of the 
107:088,01['  ]| landscape; or drove over the country in$4$ a phaeton ~~
107:088,02['  ]| a low, capacious, thick-wheeled phaeton formerly
107:088,03['  ]| much used by$4$ Mr%*Touchett, but which$6#1$ he had now
107:088,04['  ]| ceased to$9$ enjoy.  Isabel enjoyed it largely and, handling
107:088,05['  ]| the reins in$4$ a manner which$6#1$ approved itself to$4$
107:088,06['  ]| the groom as 
107:088,06@w   | "knowing," 
107:088,06['  ]| was never weary of driving
107:088,07['  ]| her uncle's capital horses through winding lanes and
107:088,08['  ]| byways full of the rural incidents she had confidently
107:088,09['  ]| expected to$9$ find; past cottages thatched and timbered, 
107:088,10['  ]| past ale-houses latticed and sanded, past
107:088,11['  ]| patches of ancient common and glimpses of empty
107:088,12['  ]| parks, between hedgerows made thick by$4$ midsummer.
107:088,13['  ]| When they reached home they usually found tea had
107:088,14['  ]| been served on$4$ the lawn and that$3$ Mrs%*Touchett
107:088,15['  ]| had not shrunk from the extremity of handing her
107:088,16['  ]| husband his cup.  But the two for$4$ the most part sat
107:088,17['  ]| silent; the old man with his head back and his eyes
107:088,18['  ]| closed, his wife occupied with her knitting and wearing
107:088,19['  ]| that$6#2$ appearance of rare profundity with which$6#1$
107:088,20['  ]| some ladies consider the movement of their needles.
107:088,21['  ]| One day, however, a visitor had arrived.  The two
107:088,22['  ]| young persons, after spending an hour on$4$ the river,
107:088,23['  ]| strolled back to$4$ the house and perceived Lord*Warburton
107:088,24['  ]| sitting under the trees and engaged in$4$ conversation,
107:088,25['  ]| of which$6#1$ even at a distance the desultory
107:088,26['  ]| character was appreciable, with Mrs%*Touchett.  He
107:088,27['  ]| had driven over from his own place with a portmanteau
107:088,28['  ]| and had asked, as the father and son often invited
107:088,29['  ]| him to$9$ do, for$4$ a dinner and a lodging.  Isabel,
107:088,30['  ]| seeing him for$4$ half an hour on$4$ the day of her arrival,
107:088,31['  ]| had discovered in$4$ this brief space that$3$ she liked him;
107:088,32['  ]| he had indeed rather sharply registered himself on$4$ her
107:089,01['  ]| fine sense and she had thought of him several times.
107:089,02['  ]| She had hoped she should see him again ~~ hoped
107:089,03['  ]| too that$3$ she should see a few others.  
107:089,03@a   | Gardencourt
107:089,04@a   | was not dull; the place itself was sovereign, her
107:089,05@a   | uncle was more and more a sort of golden grandfather,
107:089,06@a   | and Ralph was unlike any cousin she had ever
107:089,07@a   | encountered ~~ 
107:089,07['  ]| her idea of cousins having tended to$4$ 
107:089,08['  ]| gloom.  Then her impressions were still so$5#1$ fresh and
107:089,09['  ]| so$5#1$ quickly renewed that$3$ there was as yet hardly a 
107:089,10['  ]| hint of vacancy in$4$ the view.  But Isabel had need to$9$
107:089,11['  ]| remind herself that$3$ she was interested in$4$ human
107:089,12['  ]| nature and that$3$ her foremost hope in$4$ coming abroad
107:089,13['  ]| had been that$3$ she should see a great many people.
107:089,14['  ]| When Ralph said to$4$ her, as he had done several
107:089,15['  ]| times, 
107:089,15[B  ]| "I wonder you find this endurable; you ought
107:089,16[B  ]| to$9$ see some of the neighbours and some of our friends,
107:089,17[B  ]| because we have really got a few, though you would
107:089,18[B  ]| never suppose it" 
107:089,18['  ]| ~~ when he offered to$9$ invite what
107:089,19['  ]| he called a 
107:089,19@b   | "lot of people" 
107:089,19['  ]| and make her acquainted
107:089,20['  ]| with English society, she encouraged the hospitable
107:089,21['  ]| impulse and promised in$4$ advance to$9$ hurl herself into
107:089,22['  ]| the fray.  Little, however, for$4$ the present, had come
107:089,23['  ]| of his offers, and it may be confided to$4$ the reader
107:089,24['  ]| that$3$ if the young man delayed to$9$ carry them out it
107:089,25['  ]| was because he found the labour of providing for$4$
107:089,26['  ]| his companion by$4$ no$2$ means so$5#1$ severe as to$9$ require
107:089,27['  ]| extraneous help.  Isabel had spoken to$4$ him very often
107:089,28['  ]| about 
107:089,28@a   | "specimens;" 
107:089,28['  ]| it was a word that$6#1$ played a
107:089,29['  ]| considerable part in$4$ her vocabulary; she had given
107:089,30['  ]| him to$9$ understand that$3$ 
107:089,30@a   | she wished to$9$ see English
107:089,31@a   | society illustrated by$4$ eminent cases.
107:089,32[B  ]| "Well now, there is a specimen," 
107:089,32['  ]| he said to$4$ her
107:090,01['  ]| as they walked up$5$ from the riverside and he recognised
107:090,02['  ]| Lord*Warburton.
107:090,03[A  ]| "A specimen of what?" 
107:090,03['  ]| asked the girl.
107:090,04[B  ]| "A specimen of an English gentleman."
107:090,05[A  ]| "Do you mean they are all like$4$ him?"
107:090,06[B  ]| "Oh no$7$; they are not all like$4$ him."
107:090,07[A  ]| "He is a favourable specimen then," 
107:090,07['  ]| said Isabel;
107:090,08[A  ]| "because I am sure he is nice."
107:090,09[B  ]| "Yes, he is very nice.  And he is very fortunate."
107:090,10['  ]| The fortunate Lord*Warburton exchanged a handshake
107:090,11['  ]| with our heroine and hoped she was very well.
107:090,12[D  ]| "But I need not ask that$6#2$," 
107:090,12['  ]| he said, 
107:090,12[D  ]| "since you have been
107:090,13[D  ]| handling the oars."
107:090,14[A  ]| "I have been rowing a little," 
107:090,14['  ]| Isabel answered; 
107:090,14[A  ]| "but
107:090,15[A  ]| how should you know it?"
107:090,16[D  ]| "Oh, I know \he\ does not row; he is too lazy,"
107:090,17['  ]| said his lordship, indicating Ralph*Touchett with a 
107:090,18['  ]| laugh.
107:090,19[A  ]| "He has a good excuse for$4$ his laziness," 
107:090,19['  ]| Isabel
107:090,20['  ]| rejoined, lowering her voice a little.
107:090,21[D  ]| "Ah, he has a good excuse for$4$ everything!" 
107:090,21['  ]| cried
107:090,22['  ]| Lord*Warburton, still with his sonorous mirth.
107:090,23[B  ]| "My excuse for$4$ not rowing is that$3$ my cousin rows
107:090,24[B  ]| so$5#1$ well," 
107:090,24['  ]| said Ralph.  
107:090,24[B  ]| "She does everything well.
107:090,25[B  ]| She touches nothing that$6#1$ she does not adorn!"
107:090,26[D  ]| "It makes one want to$9$ be touched, Miss*Archer,"
107:090,27['  ]| Lord*Warburton declared.
107:090,28[A  ]| "Be touched in$4$ the right sense and you will$1$ never
107:090,29[A  ]| look worse for$4$ it," 
107:090,29['  ]| said Isabel, who$6#1$, if it pleased
107:090,30['  ]| her to$9$ hear it said that$3$ her accomplishments were
107:090,31['  ]| numerous, was happily able to$9$ reflect that$3$ 
107:090,31@a   | such complacency
107:090,32@a   | was not the indication of a feeble mind,
107:091,01@a   | inasmuch as there were several things in$4$ which$6#1$ she
107:091,02@a   | excelled.  
107:091,02['  ]| Her desire to$9$ think well of herself had at
107:091,03['  ]| least the element of humility that$3$ it always needed
107:091,04['  ]| to$9$ be supported by$4$ proof.
107:091,05['  ]| Lord*Warburton not only spent the night at
107:091,06['  ]| Gardencourt, but he was persuaded to$9$ remain over
107:091,07['  ]| the second day; and when the second day was ended
107:091,08['  ]| he determined to$9$ postpone his departure till the morrow.
107:091,09['  ]| During this period he addressed many of his
107:091,10['  ]| remarks to$4$ Isabel, who$6#1$ accepted this evidence of his
107:091,11['  ]| esteem with a very good grace.  She found herself
107:091,12['  ]| liking him extremely; the first impression he had
107:091,13['  ]| made on$4$ her had had weight, but at the end of an 
107:091,14['  ]| evening spent in$4$ his society she scarce fell short of
107:091,15['  ]| seeing him ~~ though quite without luridity ~~ as
107:091,16['  ]| a hero of romance.  She retired to$4$ rest with a sense
107:091,17['  ]| of good fortune, with a quickened consciousness of
107:091,18['  ]| possible felicities.  
107:091,18[A  ]| "It is very nice to$9$ know two such
107:091,19[A  ]| charming people as those," 
107:091,19['  ]| she said, meaning by$4$
107:091,20['  ]| "those" her cousin and her cousin's friend.  It must
107:091,21['  ]| be added moreover that$3$ an incident had occurred 
107:091,22['  ]| which$6#1$ might have seemed to$9$ put her good-humour
107:091,23['  ]| to$4$ the test.  Mr%*Touchett went to$4$ bed at half-past
107:091,24['  ]| nine o'clock, but his wife remained in$4$ the drawing-room
107:091,25['  ]| with the other members of the party.  She prolonged
107:091,26['  ]| her vigil for$4$ something less than an hour, and
107:091,27['  ]| then, rising, observed to$4$ Isabel that$3$ 
107:091,27@g   | it was time they
107:091,28@g   | should bid the gentlemen good-night.  
107:091,28['  ]| Isabel had as
107:091,29['  ]| yet no$2$ desire to$9$ go to$4$ bed; the occasion wore, to$4$ her
107:091,30['  ]| sense, a festive character, and feasts were not in$4$ the 
107:091,31['  ]| habit of terminating so$5#1$ early.  So$3$, without further
107:091,32['  ]| thought, she replied, very simply ~~
107:092,01[A  ]| "Need I go, dear aunt?  I will$1$ come up$5$ in$4$ half an 
107:092,02[A  ]| hour."
107:092,03[G  ]| "It is impossible I should wait for$4$ you," 
107:092,03['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett
107:092,04['  ]| answered.
107:092,05[A  ]| "Ah, you need not wait!  Ralph will$1$ light my
107:092,06[A  ]| candle," 
107:092,06['  ]| Isabel gaily engaged.
107:092,07[D  ]| "I will$1$ light your candle; do let me light your candle,
107:092,08[D  ]| Miss*Archer!" 
107:092,08['  ]| Lord*Warburton exclaimed.  
107:092,08[D  ]| "Only
107:092,09[D  ]| I beg it shall not be before midnight."
107:092,10['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett fixed her bright little eyes upon$4$
107:092,12['  ]| him a moment and transferred them coldly to$4$ her
107:092,13['  ]| niece.  
107:092,13[G  ]| "You can not stay alone with the gentlemen.
107:092,14[G  ]| Your are not ~~ you are not at your blest Albany, my
107:092,15[G  ]| dear."
107:092,16['  ]| Isabel rose, blushing.  
107:092,16[A  ]| "I wish I were," 
107:092,16['  ]| she said.
107:092,17[B  ]| "Oh, I say, mother!" 
107:092,17['  ]| Ralph broke out.
107:092,18[D  ]| "My dear Mrs%*Touchett!" 
107:092,18['  ]| Lord*warburton
107:092,19['  ]| murmured.
107:092,20[G  ]| "I did not make your country, my lord," 
107:092,20['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett
107:092,21['  ]| said majestically.  
107:092,21[G  ]| "I must take it as I 
107:092,22[G  ]| find it."
107:092,23[A  ]| "can not I stay with my own cousin?" 
107:092,23['  ]| Isabel enquired.
107:092,24[G  ]| "I am not aware that$3$ Lord*Warburton is your
107:092,25[G  ]| cousin."
107:092,26[D  ]| "Perhaps \I\ had better go to$4$ bed!" 
107:092,26['  ]| the visitor
107:092,27['  ]| suggested.  
107:092,27[D  ]| "That$6#2$ will$1$ arrange it."
107:092,28['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett gave a little look of despair and sat
107:092,29['  ]| down again.  
107:092,29[G  ]| "Oh, if it is necessary I will$1$ stay up$5$
107:092,30[G  ]| till midnight."
107:092,31['  ]| Ralph meanwhile handed Isabel her candlestick.
107:092,32['  ]| He had been watching her; it had seemed to$4$ him 
107:092,32@b   | her
107:093,01@b   | temper was involved ~~ an accident that$6#1$ might be interesting.
107:093,02['  ]| But if he had expected anything of a flare
107:093,03['  ]| he was disappointed, for$3$ the girl simply laughed a little,
107:093,04['  ]| nodded good-night and withdrew accompanied by$4$
107:093,05['  ]| her aunt.  For$4$ himself he was annoyed at his mother,
107:093,06['  ]| though he thought she was right.  Above-stairs the
107:093,07['  ]| two ladies separated at Mrs%*Touchett's door.  Isabel
107:093,08['  ]| had said nothing on$4$ her way up$5$.
107:093,09[G  ]| "Of course you are vexed at my interfering with
107:093,10[G  ]| you," 
107:093,10['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett.
107:093,11['  ]| Isabel considered.  
107:093,11[A  ]| "I am not vexed, but I am surprised
107:093,12[A  ]| ~~ and a good deal mystified.  Was not it proper
107:093,13[A  ]| I should remain in$4$ the drawing-room?"
107:093,14[G  ]| "Not in$4$ the least.  Young girls here ~~ in$4$ decent
107:093,15[G  ]| houses ~~ do not sit alone with the gentlemen late at
107:093,16[G  ]| night."
107:093,17[A  ]| "You were very right to$9$ tell me then," 
107:093,17['  ]| said Isabel.
107:093,18[A  ]| "I do not understand it, but I am very glad to$9$ know
107:093,19[A  ]| it."
107:093,20[G  ]| "I shall always tell you," 
107:093,20['  ]| her aunt answered, 
107:093,20[G  ]| "whenever
107:093,21[G  ]| I see you taking what seems to$4$ me too much 
107:093,22[G  ]| liberty."
107:093,23[A  ]| "Pray do; but I do not say I shall always think your
107:093,24[A  ]| remonstrance just."
107:093,25[G  ]| "Very likely not.  You are too fond of your own
107:093,26[G  ]| ways."
107:093,27[A  ]| "Yes, I think I am very fond of them.  But I always
107:093,28[A  ]| want to$9$ know the things one should not do."
107:093,29[G  ]| "So$3$ as to$9$ do them?" 
107:093,29['  ]| asked her aunt.
107:093,30[A  ]| "So$3$ as to$9$ choose," 
107:093,30['  ]| said Isabel.
108:094,01['  ]| As she was devoted to$4$ romantic effects Lord*Warburton
108:094,02['  ]| ventured to$9$ express 
108:094,02@d   | a hope that$3$ she would
108:094,03@d   | come some day and see his house, a very curious old
108:094,04@d   | place.  
108:094,04['  ]| He extracted from Mrs%*Touchett a promise
108:094,05['  ]| that$3$ she would bring her niece to$4$ Lockleigh, and
108:094,06['  ]| Ralph signified his willingness to$9$ attend the ladies if
108:094,07['  ]| his father should be able to$9$ spare him.  Lord*Warburton
108:094,08['  ]| assured our heroine that$3$ 
108:094,08@d   | in$4$ the mean*time his
108:094,08@d   | sisters would come and see her.  
108:094,08['  ]| She knew something
108:094,10['  ]| about his sisters, having sounded him, during the 
108:094,11['  ]| hours they spent together while he was at Gardencourt,
108:094,12['  ]| on$4$ many points connected with his family.  
108:094,13['  ]| When Isabel was interested she asked a great many
108:094,14['  ]| questions, and as her companion was a copious talker
108:094,15['  ]| she urged him on$4$ this occasion by$4$ no$2$ means in$4$ vain.
108:094,16['  ]| He told her he had 
108:094,16@d   | four sisters and two brothers and
108:094,17@d   | had lost both his parents.  The brothers and sisters
108:094,18@d   | were very good people ~~ 
108:094,18[D  ]| "not particularly clever,
108:094,19[D  ]| you know," 
108:094,19['  ]| he said, 
108:094,19[D  ]| "but very decent and pleasant;"
108:094,20['  ]| and he was so$5#1$ good as to$9$ 
108:094,20@d   | hope Miss*Archer might
108:094,21@d   | know them well.  One of the brothers was in$4$ the 
108:094,22@d   | Church, settled in$4$ the family living, that$6#2$ of Lockleigh,
108:094,23@d   | which$6#1$ was a heavy, sprawling parish, and was
108:094,24@d   | an excellent fellow in$4$ spite of his thinking differently
108:094,25@d   | from himself on$4$ every conceivable topic.  
108:094,25['  ]| And then
108:094,26['  ]| Lord*Warburton mentioned some of the opinions held
108:094,27['  ]| by$4$ his brother, which$6#1$ were opinions Isabel had often
108:095,01['  ]| heard expressed and that$6#1$ she supposed to$9$ be entertained
108:095,02['  ]| by$4$ a considerable portion of the human family.
108:095,03['  ]| Many of them indeed she supposed she had held herself,
108:095,04['  ]| till he assured her 
108:095,04@d   | she was quite mistaken, that$3$ it
108:095,05@d   | was really impossible, that$3$ she had doubtless imagined
108:095,06@d   | she entertained them, but that$3$ she might depend
108:095,07@d   | that$3$, if she thought them over a little, she would find
108:095,08@d   | there was nothing in$4$ them.  
108:095,08['  ]| When she answered that$3$ 
108:095,09@a   | she had already thought several of the questions involved 
108:095,10@a   | over very attentively 
108:095,10['  ]| he declared that$3$ 
108:095,10@d   | she was
108:095,11@d   | only another example of what he had often been struck
108:095,12@d   | with ~~ the fact that$3$, of all the people in$4$ the world,
108:095,13@d   | the Americans were the most grossly superstitious.
108:095,14@d   | They were rank Tories and bigots, every*one of them;
108:095,15@d   | there were no$2$ conservatives like$4$ American conservatives.
108:095,16@d   | Her uncle and her cousin were there to$9$ prove
108:095,17@d   | it; nothing could be more mediaeval than many of 
108:095,18@d   | their views; they had ideas that$6#1$ people in$4$ England
108:095,19@d   | nowadays were ashamed to$9$ confess to$4$; and they had
108:095,20@d   | the impudence moreover, 
108:095,20['  ]| said his lordship, laughing,
108:095,21@d   | to$9$ pretend they knew more about the needs and dangers
108:095,22@d   | of this poor dear stupid old England than he who$6#1$
108:095,23@d   | was born in$4$ it and owned a considerable slice of it ~~
108:095,24@d   | the more shame to$4$ him!  
108:095,24['  ]| From all of which$6#1$ Isabel
108:095,25['  ]| gathered that$3$ Lord*Warburton was a nobleman of
108:095,26['  ]| the newest pattern, a reformer, a radical, a contemner
108:095,27['  ]| of ancient ways.  
108:095,27@d   | His other brother, who$6#1$ was in$4$ the 
108:095,28@d   | army in$4$ India, was rather wild and pig-headed and had
108:095,29@d   | not been of much use as yet but to$9$ make debts for$4$
108:095,30@d   | Warburton to$9$ pay ~~ one of the most precious privileges
108:095,31@d   | of an elder brother.  
108:095,31[D  ]| "I do not think I shall pay
108:095,32[D  ]| any more," 
108:095,32['  ]| said her friend; 
108:095,32[D  ]| "he lives a monstrous
108:096,01[D  ]| deal better than I do, enjoys unheard-of luxuries and
108:096,02[D  ]| thinks himself a much finer gentleman than I.  As
108:096,03[D  ]| I am a consistent radical I go in$5$ only for$4$ equality; I
108:096,04[D  ]| do not go in$5$ for$4$ the superiority of the younger brothers."
108:096,05@d   | Two of his four sisters, the second and fourth, were
108:096,06@d   | married, one of them having done very well, as they
108:096,07@d   | said, the other only so-so.  The husband of the elder,
108:096,08@d   | Lord*Haycock, was a very good fellow, but unfortunately
108:096,09@d   | a horrid Tory; and his wife, like$4$ all good English
108:096,10@d   | wives, was worse than her husband.  The other
108:096,11@d   | had espoused a smallish squire in$4$ Norfolk and,
108:096,12@d   | though married but the other day, had already five
108:096,13@d   | children.  
108:096,13['  ]| This information and much more Lord*Warburton
108:096,14['  ]| imparted to$4$ his young American listener,
108:096,15['  ]| taking pains to$9$ make many things clear and to$9$ lay bare
108:096,16['  ]| to$4$ her apprehension the peculiarities of English life.
108:096,17['  ]| Isabel was often amused at his explicitness and at the 
108:096,18['  ]| small allowance he seemed to$9$ make either for$4$ her own 
108:096,19['  ]| experience or for$4$ her imagination.  
108:096,19[A  ]| "He thinks
108:096,20[A  ]| I am a barbarian," 
108:096,20['  ]| she said, 
108:096,20[A  ]| "and that$3$ I have never seen
108:096,21[A  ]| forks and spoons;" 
108:096,21['  ]| and she used to$9$ ask him artless
108:096,22['  ]| questions for$4$ the pleasure of hearing him answer seriously.
108:096,23['  ]| Then when he had fallen into the trap, 
108:096,23[A  ]| "It is
108:096,24[A  ]| a pity you can not see me in$4$ my war-paint and feathers,"
108:096,25['  ]| she remarked; 
108:096,25[A  ]| "if I had known how kind you are to$4$
108:096,26[A  ]| the poor savages I would have brought over my native
108:096,27[A  ]| costume!" 
108:096,27['  ]| Lord*Warburton had travelled through
108:096,28['  ]| the United*States and knew much more about them
108:096,29['  ]| than Isabel; he was so$5#1$ good as to$9$ say that$3$ 
108:096,29@d   | America
108:096,30@d   | was the most charming country in$4$ the world, 
108:096,30['  ]| but his 
108:096,31['  ]| recollections of it appeared to$9$ encourage the idea that$3$
108:096,32['  ]| Americans in$4$ England would need to$9$ have a great
108:097,01['  ]| many things explained to$4$ them.  
108:097,01[D  ]| "If I had only had
108:097,02[D  ]| you to$9$ explain things to$4$ me in$4$ America!" 
108:097,02['  ]| he said.
108:097,03[D  ]| "I was rather puzzled in$4$ your country; in$4$ fact I was
108:097,04[D  ]| quite bewildered, and the trouble was that$3$ the explanations
108:097,05[D  ]| only puzzled me more.  You know I think
108:097,06[D  ]| they often gave me the wrong ones on$4$ purpose; they are
108:097,07[D  ]| rather clever about that$6#2$ over there.  But when I explain
108:097,08[D  ]| you can trust me; about what I tell you there is
108:097,09[D  ]| no$2$ mistake."  
108:097,09['  ]| There was no$2$ mistake at least about his
108:097,10['  ]| being very intelligent and cultivated and knowing
108:097,11['  ]| almost everything in$4$ the world.  Although he gave
108:097,12['  ]| the most interesting and thrilling glimpses Isabel felt
108:097,13@a   | he never did it to$9$ exhibit himself, and though he had
108:097,14@a   | had rare chances and had tumbled in$5$, 
108:097,14['  ]| as she put it,
108:097,15@a   | for$4$ high prizes, he was as far as possible from making
108:097,16@a   | a merit of it.  He had enjoyed the best things of life,
108:097,17@a   | but they had not spoiled his sense of proportion.  His
108:097,18@a   | quality was a mixture of the effect of rich experience
108:097,19@a   | ~~ oh, so$5#1$ easily come by$5$! ~~ with a modesty at times
108:097,20@a   | almost boyish; the sweet and wholesome savour of
108:097,21@a   | which$6#1$ ~~ it was as agreeable as something tasted ~~
108:097,22@a   | lost nothing from the addition of a tone of responsible
108:097,23@a   | kindness.
108:097,24[A  ]| "I like$1$ your specimen English gentleman very 
108:097,25[A  ]| much," 
108:097,25['  ]| Isabel said to$4$ Ralph after Lord*Warburton
108:097,26['  ]| had gone.
108:097,27[B  ]| "I like$1$ him too ~~ I love him well," 
108:097,27['  ]| Ralph returned.
108:097,28[B  ]| "But I pity him more."
108:097,29['  ]| Isabel looked at him askance.  
108:097,29[A  ]| "Why, that$6#2$ seems
108:097,30[A  ]| to$4$ me his only fault ~~ that$3$ one can not pity him a little.
108:097,31[A  ]| He appears to$9$ have everything, to$9$ know everything,
108:097,32[A  ]| to$9$ \be\ everything.
108:098,01[B  ]| "Oh, he is in$4$ a bad way!" 
108:098,01['  ]| Ralph insisted.
108:098,02[A  ]| "I suppose you do not mean in$4$ health?"
108:098,03[B  ]| "No$7$, as to$4$ that$6#2$ he is detestably sound.  What I
108:098,04[B  ]| mean is that$3$ he is a man with a great position who$6#1$ is
108:098,05[B  ]| playing all sorts of tricks with it.  He does not take
108:098,06[B  ]| himself seriously."
108:098,07[A  ]| "Does he regard himself as a joke?"
108:098,08[B  ]| "Much worse; he regards himself as an imposition
108:098,09[B  ]| ~~ as an abuse."
108:098,10[A  ]| "Well, perhaps he is," 
108:098,10['  ]| said Isabel.
108:098,11[B  ]| "Perhaps he is ~~ though on$4$ the whole I do not 
108:098,12[B  ]| think so$5#2$.  But in$4$ that$6#2$ case what is more pitiable than a 
108:098,13[B  ]| sentient, self-conscious abuse planted by$4$ other hands,
108:098,14[B  ]| deeply rooted but aching with a sense of its injustice?
108:098,15[B  ]| For$4$ me, in$4$ his place, I could be as solemn as a statue
108:098,16[B  ]| of Buddha.  He occupies a position that$6#1$ appeals to$4$
108:098,17[B  ]| my imagination.  Great responsibilities, great opportunities,
108:098,18[B  ]| great consideration, great wealth, great 
108:098,19[B  ]| power, a natural share in$4$ the public affairs of a great 
108:098,20[B  ]| country.  But he is all in$4$ a muddle about himself, his
108:098,21[B  ]| position, his power, and indeed about everything in$4$
108:098,22[B  ]| the world.  He is the victim of a critical age; he has
108:098,23[B  ]| ceased to$9$ believe in$4$ himself and he does not know
108:098,24[B  ]| what to$9$ believe in$4$.  When I attempt to$9$ tell him (because
108:098,25[B  ]| if I were he I know very well what I should
108:098,26[B  ]| believe in$4$) he calls me a pampered bigot.  I believe
108:098,27[B  ]| he seriously thinks me an awful Philistine; he says I
108:098,28[B  ]| do not understand my time.  I understand it certainly
108:098,29[B  ]| better than he, who$6#1$ can neither abolish himself as a 
108:098,30[B  ]| nuisance nor maintain himself as an institution."
108:098,31[A  ]| "He does not look very wretched," 
108:098,31['  ]| Isabel observed.
108:098,32[B  ]| "Possibly not; though, being a man of a good deal
108:099,01[B  ]| of charming taste, I think he often has uncomfortable
108:099,02[B  ]| hours.  But what is it to$9$ say of a being of his opportunities
108:099,03[B  ]| that$3$ he is not miserable?  Besides, I believe
108:099,04[B  ]| he is."
108:099,05[A  ]| "I do not," 
108:099,05['  ]| said Isabel.
108:099,06[B  ]| "Well," 
108:099,06['  ]| her cousin rejoined, 
108:099,06[B  ]| "if he is not he ought
108:099,07[B  ]| to$9$ be!"
108:099,08['  ]| In$4$ the afternoon she spent an hour with her uncle
108:099,09['  ]| on$4$ the lawn, where the old man sat, as usual, with his
108:099,10['  ]| shawl over his legs and his large cup of diluted tea in$4$
108:099,11['  ]| his hands.  In$4$ the course of conversation he asked her
108:099,12@f   | what she thought of their late visitor.
108:099,13['  ]| Isabel was prompt.  
108:099,13[A  ]| "I think he is charming."
108:099,14[F  ]| "He is a nice person," 
108:099,14['  ]| said Mr%*Touchett, 
108:099,14[F  ]| "but I
108:099,15[F  ]| do not recommend you to$9$ fall in$4$ love with him."
108:099,16[A  ]| "I shall not do it then; I shall never fall in$4$ love
108:099,17[A  ]| but on$4$ your recommendation.  Moreover," 
108:099,17['  ]| Isabel 
108:099,18['  ]| added, 
108:099,18[A  ]| "my cousin gives me rather a sad account of
108:099,19[A  ]| Lord*Warburton."
108:099,20[F  ]| "Oh, indeed?  I do not know what there may be to$9$
108:099,21[F  ]| say, but you must remember that$3$ Ralph \must\ talk."
108:099,22[A  ]| "He thinks your friend is too subversive ~~ or not
108:099,23[A  ]| subversive enough!  I do not quite understand which$6#1$, "
108:099,24['  ]| said Isabel.
108:099,25['  ]| The old man shook his head slowly, smiled and put
108:099,26['  ]| down his cup.  
108:099,26[F  ]| "I do not know which$6#1$ either.  He goes
108:099,27[F  ]| very far, but it is quite possible he does not go far
108:099,28[F  ]| enough.  He seems to$9$ want to$9$ do away with a good
108:099,29[F  ]| many things, but he seems to$9$ want to$9$ remain himself.
108:099,30[F  ]| I suppose that$6#2$ is natural, but it is rather inconsistent."
108:099,31[F  ]| 
108:099,32[A  ]| "Oh, I hope he will$1$ remain himself," 
108:099,32['  ]| said Isabel.
108:100,01[A  ]| "If he were to$9$ be done away with his friends would
108:100,02[A  ]| miss him sadly."
108:100,03[F  ]| "Well," 
108:100,03['  ]| said the old man, 
108:100,03[F  ]| "I guess he will$1$ stay and
108:100,04[F  ]| amuse his friends.  I should certainly miss him very
108:100,05[F  ]| much here at Gardencourt.  He always amuses me
108:100,06[F  ]| when he comes over, and I think he amuses himself as
108:100,07[F  ]| well.  There is a considerable number like$4$ him, round
108:100,08[F  ]| in$4$ society; they are very fashionable just now.  I do not
108:100,09[F  ]| know what they are trying to$9$ do ~~ whether they are
108:100,10[F  ]| trying to$9$ get up$5$ a revolution.  I hope at any rate they will$1$
108:100,11[F  ]| put it off till after I am gone.  You see they want to$9$
108:100,12[F  ]| disestablish everything; but I am a pretty big landowner
108:100,13[F  ]| here, and I do not want to$9$ be disestablished.
108:100,14[F  ]| I would not have come over if I had thought they
108:100,15[F  ]| were going to$9$ behave like$4$ that$6#2$," 
108:100,15['  ]| Mr%*Touchett went
108:100,16['  ]| on$5$ with expanding hilarity.  
108:100,16[F  ]| "I came over because
108:100,17[F  ]| I thought England was a safe country.  I call it
108:100,18[F  ]| a regular fraud if they are going to$9$ introduce any
108:100,19[F  ]| considerable changes; there will$1$ be a large number
108:100,20[F  ]| disappointed in$4$ that$6#2$ case."
108:100,21[S  ]| "Oh, I do hope they will$1$ make a revolution!" 
108:100,21['  ]| Isabel
108:100,22['  ]| exclaimed.  
108:100,22[A  ]| "I should delight in$4$ seeing a revolution."
108:100,23[F  ]| "Let me see," 
108:100,23['  ]| said her uncle, with a humorous intention;
108:100,24[F  ]| "I forget whether you are on$4$ the side of the
108:100,25[F  ]| old or on$4$ the side of the new.  I have heard you take 
108:100,26[F  ]| such opposite views."
108:100,27[A  ]| "I am on$4$ the side of both.  I guess I am a little on$4$
108:100,28[A  ]| the side of everything.  In$4$ a revolution ~~ after it was
108:100,29[A  ]| well begun ~~ I think I should be a high, proud loyalist.
108:100,30[A  ]| One sympathises more with them, and they have
108:100,31[A  ]| a chance to$9$ behave so$5#1$ exquisitely.  I mean so$5#1$ picturesquely."
108:100,32[A  ]|
108:101,01[F  ]| "I do not know that$3$ I understand what you mean
108:101,02[F  ]| by$4$ behaving picturesquely, but it seems to$4$ me that$3$
108:101,03[F  ]| you do that$6#2$ always, my dear."
108:101,04[A  ]| "Oh, you lovely man, if I could believe that$6#2$!" 
108:101,04['  ]| the 
108:101,05['  ]| girl interrupted.
108:101,06[F  ]| "I am afraid, after all, you will$1$ not have the pleasure
108:101,07[F  ]| of going gracefully to$4$ the guillotine here just now,"
108:101,08['  ]| Mr%*Touchett went on$5$.  
108:101,08[F  ]| "If you want to$9$ see a big outbreak
108:101,09[F  ]| you must pay us a long visit.  You see, when
108:101,10[F  ]| you come to$4$ the point it would not suit them to$9$ be 
108:101,11[F  ]| taken at their word."
108:101,12[A  ]| "Of whom are you speaking?"
108:101,13[F  ]| "Well, I mean Lord*Warburton and his friends ~~
108:101,14[F  ]| the radicals of the upper class.  Of course I only know
108:101,15[F  ]| the way it strikes me.  They talk about the changes,
108:101,16[F  ]| but I do not think they quite realise.  You and I, you
108:101,17[F  ]| know, we know what it is to$9$ have lived under democratic
108:101,18[F  ]| institutions: I always thought them very 
108:101,19[F  ]| comfortable, but I was used to$4$ them from the first.
108:101,20[F  ]| And then I ai not a lord; you are a lady, my dear, but
108:101,21[F  ]| I ai not a lord.  Now over here I do not think it quite
108:101,22[F  ]| comes home to$4$ them.  It is a matter of every day and
108:101,23[F  ]| every hour, and I do not think many of them would
108:101,24[F  ]| find it as pleasant as what they have got.  Of course if
108:101,25[F  ]| they want to$9$ try, it is their own business; but I expect 
108:101,26[F  ]| they will$1$ not try very hard."
108:101,27[A  ]| "Do not you think they are sincere?" 
108:101,27['  ]| Isabel asked.
108:101,28[F  ]| "Well, they want to$9$ \feel\ earnest," 
108:101,28['  ]| Mr%*Touchett
108:101,29['  ]| allowed; 
108:101,29[F  ]| "but it seems as if they took it out in$4$ theories
108:101,30[F  ]| mostly.  Their radical views are a kind of amusement;
108:101,31[F  ]| they have got to$9$ have some amusement, and they 
108:101,32[F  ]| might have coarser tastes than that$6#2$.  You see they are
108:102,01[F  ]| very luxurious, and these progressive ideas are about
108:102,02[F  ]| their biggest luxury.  They make them feel moral and
108:102,03[F  ]| yet do not damage their position.  They think a great
108:102,04[F  ]| deal of their position; do not let one of them ever persuade
108:102,05[F  ]| you he does not, for$3$ if you were to$9$ proceed on$4$
108:102,06[F  ]| that$6#2$ basis you would be pulled up$5$ very short."
108:102,07['  ]| Isabel followed her uncle's argument, which$6#1$ he unfolded
108:102,08['  ]| with his quaint distinctness, most attentively,
108:102,09['  ]| and though she was unacquainted with the British
108:102,10['  ]| aristocracy she found it in$4$ harmony with her general
108:102,11['  ]| impressions of human nature.  But she felt moved to$9$
108:102,12['  ]| put in$5$ a protest on$4$ Lord*Warburton's behalf.  
108:102,12[A  ]| "I do not
108:102,13[A  ]| believe Lord*Warburton is a humbug; I do not care
108:102,14[A  ]| what the others are.  I should like$1$ to$9$ see Lord*Warburton
108:102,15[A  ]| put to$4$ the test."
108:102,16[F  ]| "Heaven deliver me from my friends!" 
108:102,16['  ]| Mr%*Touchett
108:102,17['  ]| answered.  
108:102,17[F  ]| "Lord*Warburton is a very amiable
108:102,18[F  ]| young man ~~ a very fine young man.  He has a hundred
108:102,19[F  ]| thousand a year.  He owns fifty thousand acres
108:102,20[F  ]| of soil of this little island and ever so$5#1$ many other
108:102,21[F  ]| things besides.  He has half a dozen houses to$9$ live in$4$.
108:102,22[F  ]| He has a seat in$4$ Parliament as I have one at my own 
108:102,23[F  ]| dinner-table.  He has elegant tastes ~~ cares for$4$ literature,
108:102,24[F  ]| for$4$ art, for$4$ science, for$4$ charming young ladies.
108:102,25[F  ]| The most elegant is his taste for$4$ the new views.
108:102,26[F  ]| It affords him a great deal of pleasure ~~ more perhaps
108:102,27[F  ]| than anything else, except the young ladies.
108:102,28[F  ]| His old house over there ~~ what does he call it, Lockleigh?
108:102,29[F  ]| ~~ is very attractive; but I do not think it is as
108:102,30[F  ]| pleasant as this.  That$6#2$ does not matter, however ~~
108:102,31[F  ]| he has so$5#1$ many others.  His views do not hurt any*one
108:102,32[F  ]| as far as I can see; they certainly do not hurt himself.
108:103,01[F  ]| And if there were to$9$ be a revolution he would come
108:103,02[F  ]| off very easily.  They would not touch him, they would
108:103,03[F  ]| leave him as he is: he is too much liked."
108:103,04[A  ]| "Ah, he could not be a martyr even if he wished!"
108:103,05['  ]| Isabel sighed.  
108:103,05[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is a very poor position."
108:103,06[F  ]| "He will$1$ never be a martyr unless you make him
108:103,07[F  ]| one," 
108:103,07['  ]| said the old man.
108:103,08['  ]| Isabel shook her head; there might have been 
108:103,09['  ]| something laughable in$4$ the fact that$3$ she did it with
108:103,10['  ]| a touch of melancholy.  
108:103,10[A  ]| "I shall never make any*one
108:103,11[A  ]| a martyr."
108:103,12[F  ]| "You will$1$ never be one I hope."
108:103,13[A  ]| "I hope not.  But you do not pity Lord*Warburton
108:103,14[A  ]| then as Ralph does?"
108:103,15['  ]| Her uncle looked at her a while with genial acuteness.
108:103,16[F  ]| "Yes, I do, after all!"
109:104,01['  ]| The two Misses*Molyneux, this nobleman's sisters,
109:104,02['  ]| came presently to$9$ call upon$4$ her, and Isabel took a 
109:104,03['  ]| fancy to$4$ the young ladies, who$6#1$ appeared to$4$ her to$9$
109:104,04['  ]| show a most original stamp.  It is true that$3$ when she
109:104,05['  ]| described them to$4$ her cousin by$4$ that$6#2$ term he declared
109:104,06['  ]| that$3$ 
109:104,06@b   | no$2$ epithet could be less applicable than this to$4$
109:104,07@b   | the two Misses*Molyneux, since there were fifty thousand
109:104,08@b   | young women in$4$ England who$6#1$ exactly resembled
109:104,09@b   | them.  
109:104,09['  ]| Deprived of this advantage, however,
109:104,10['  ]| Isabel's visitors retained that$6#2$ of an extreme sweetness
109:104,11['  ]| and shyness of demeanour, and of having, as she
109:104,12['  ]| thought, 
109:104,12@a   | eyes like$4$ the balanced basins, the circles of
109:104,13@a   | "ornamental water," set, in$4$ parterres, among the 
109:104,14@a   | geraniums.
109:104,15[A  ]| "They are not morbid, at any rate, whatever they
109:104,16[A  ]| are," 
109:104,16['  ]| our heroine said to$4$ herself; and she deemed this
109:104,17['  ]| a great charm, for$3$ two or three of the friends of her
109:104,18['  ]| girlhood had been regrettably open to$4$ the charge
109:104,19@a   | (they would have been so$5#1$ nice without it), 
109:104,19['  ]| to$9$ say nothing
109:104,20['  ]| of Isabel's having occasionally suspected it as a
109:104,21['  ]| tendency of her own.  The Misses*Molyneux were not
109:104,22['  ]| in$4$ their first youth, but they had bright, fresh complexions
109:104,23['  ]| and something of the smile of childhood.
109:104,24['  ]| Yes, their eyes, which$6#1$ Isabel admired, were round,
109:104,25['  ]| quiet and contented, and their figures, also of a generous
109:104,26['  ]| roundness, were encased in$4$ sealskin jackets.
109:104,27['  ]| Their friendliness was great, so$5#1$ great that$3$ they were
109:105,01['  ]| almost embarrassed to$9$ show it; they seemed somewhat
109:105,02['  ]| afraid of the young lady from the other side of
109:105,03['  ]| the world and rather looked than spoke their good
109:105,04['  ]| wishes.  But they made it clear to$4$ her that$3$ 
109:105,04@v   | they hoped
109:105,05@v   | she would come to$4$ luncheon at Lockleigh, where
109:105,06@v   | they lived with their brother, and then they might
109:105,07@v   | see her very, very often.  
109:105,07['  ]| They wondered 
109:105,07@v   | if she
109:105,08@v   | would not come over some day and sleep: they were
109:105,09@v   | expecting some people on$4$ the twenty-ninth, so$3$ perhaps
109:105,10@v   | she would come while the people were there.
109:105,11[V  ]| "I am afraid it is not any*one very remarkable,"
109:105,12['  ]| said the elder sister; 
109:105,12[V  ]| "but I dare say you will$1$ take us
109:105,13[V  ]| as you find us."
109:105,14[A  ]| "I shall find you delightful; I think you are enchanting
109:105,15[A  ]| just as you are," 
109:105,15['  ]| replied Isabel, who$6#1$ often
109:105,16['  ]| praised profusely.
109:105,17['  ]| Her visitors flushed, and her cousin told her, after
109:105,18['  ]| they were gone, that$3$ 
109:105,18@b   | if she said such things to$4$ those
109:105,19@b   | poor girls they would think she was in$4$ some wild,
109:105,20@b   | free manner practising on$4$ them: he was sure it was
109:105,21@b   | the first time they had been called enchanting.
109:105,22[A  ]| "I can not help it," 
109:105,22['  ]| Isabel answered.  
109:105,22[A  ]| "I think it is
109:105,23[A  ]| lovely to$9$ be so$5#1$ quiet and reasonable and satisfied.  I
109:105,24[A  ]| should like$1$ to$9$ be like$4$ that$6#2$."
109:105,25[B  ]| "Heaven forbid!" 
109:105,25['  ]| cried Ralph with ardour.
109:105,26[A  ]| "I mean to$9$ try and imitate them," 
109:105,26['  ]| said Isabel.
109:105,27[A  ]| "I want very much to$9$ see them at home."
109:105,28['  ]| She had this pleasure a few days later, when, with
109:105,29['  ]| Ralph and his mother, she drove over to$4$ Lockleigh.
109:105,30['  ]| She found the Misses*Molyneux sitting in$4$ a vast drawing-room
109:105,31['  ]| (she perceived afterwards it was one of 
109:105,32['  ]| several) in$4$ a wilderness of faded chintz; they were
109:106,01['  ]| dressed on$4$ this occasion in$4$ black velveteen.  Isabel
109:106,02['  ]| liked them even better at home than she had done at
109:106,03['  ]| Gardencourt, and was more than ever struck with the
109:106,04['  ]| fact that$3$ they were not morbid.  It had seemed to$4$ her
109:106,05['  ]| before that$3$ 
109:106,05@a   | if they had a fault it was a want of play
109:106,06@a   | of mind; 
109:106,06['  ]| but she presently saw 
109:106,06@a   | they were capable of
109:106,07@a   | deep emotion.  
109:106,07['  ]| Before luncheon she was alone with
109:106,08['  ]| them for$4$ some time, on$4$ one side of the room, while
109:106,09['  ]| Lord*Warburton, at a distance, talked to$4$ Mrs%*Touchett.
109:106,10['  ]| 
109:106,11[A  ]| "Is it true your brother is such a great radical?"
109:106,12['  ]| Isabel asked.  She knew it was true, but we have
109:106,13['  ]| seen that$3$ her interest in$4$ human nature was keen, and
109:106,14['  ]| she had a desire to$9$ draw the Misses*Molyneux out.
109:106,15[V  ]| "Oh dear, yes; he is immensely advanced," 
109:106,15['  ]| said
109:106,16['  ]| Mildred, the younger sister.
109:106,17[V  ]| "At the same time Warburton is very reasonable,"
109:106,18['  ]| Miss*Molyneux observed.
109:106,19['  ]| Isabel watched him a moment at the other side of
109:106,20['  ]| the room; 
109:106,20@a   | he was clearly trying hard to$9$ make himself
109:106,21@a   | agreeable to$4$ Mrs%*Touchett.  
109:106,21['  ]| Ralph had met the frank
109:106,22['  ]| advances of one of the dogs before the fire that$6#1$ the
109:106,23['  ]| temperature of an English August, in$4$ the ancient
109:106,24['  ]| expanses, had not made an impertinence.  
109:106,24[A  ]| "Do you
109:106,25[A  ]| suppose your brother is sincere?"  
109:106,25['  ]| Isabel enquired
109:106,26['  ]| with a smile.
109:106,27[V  ]| "Oh, he must be, you know!"  
109:106,27['  ]| Mildred exclaimed
109:106,28['  ]| quickly, while the elder sister gazed at our heroine
109:106,29['  ]| in$4$ silence.
109:106,30[A  ]| "Do you think he would stand the test?"
109:106,31[V  ]| "The test?"
109:106,32[A  ]| "I mean for$4$ instance having to$9$ give up$5$ all this."
109:107,01[V  ]| "Having to$9$ give up$5$ Lockleigh?" 
109:107,01['  ]| said Miss*Molyneux,
109:107,02['  ]| finding her voice.
109:107,03[A  ]| "Yes, and the other places; what are they called?"
109:107,04['  ]| The two sisters exchanged an almost frightened
109:107,05['  ]| glance.  
109:107,05[V  ]| "Do you mean ~~ do you mean on$4$ account
109:107,06[V  ]| of the expense?" 
109:107,06['  ]| the younger one asked.
109:107,07[V  ]| "I dare say he might let one or two of his houses,"
109:107,08['  ]| said the other.
109:107,09[A  ]| "Let them for$4$ nothing?" 
109:107,09['  ]| Isabel demanded.
109:107,10[V  ]| "I can not fancy his giving up$5$ his property," 
109:107,10['  ]| said
109:107,11['  ]| Miss*Molyneux.
109:107,12[A  ]| "Ah, I am afraid he is an impostor!" 
109:107,12['  ]| Isabel returned.
109:107,13[A  ]| "Do not you think it is a false postion?"
109:107,14['  ]| Her companions, evidently, had lost themselves.
109:107,15[V  ]| "My brother's position?" 
109:107,15['  ]| Miss*Molyneux enquired.
109:107,16[V  ]| "It is thought a very good position," 
109:107,16['  ]| said the 
109:107,17['  ]| younger sister.  
109:107,17[V  ]| "It is the first position in$4$ this part
109:107,18[V  ]| of the country."
109:107,19[A  ]| "I dare say you think me very irreverent," 
109:107,19['  ]| Isabel
109:107,20['  ]| took occasion to$9$ remark.  
109:107,20[A  ]| "I suppose you revere your
109:107,21[A  ]| brother and are rather afraid of him."
109:107,22[V  ]| "Of course one looks up$5$ to$4$ one's brother," 
109:107,22['  ]| said
109:107,23['  ]| Miss*Molyneux simply.
109:107,24[A  ]| "If you do that$6#2$ he must be very good ~~ because
109:107,25[A  ]| you, evidently, are beautifully good."
109:107,26[V  ]| "He is most kind.  It will$1$ never be known, the 
109:107,27[V  ]| good he does."
109:107,28[V  ]| "His ability is known," 
109:107,28['  ]| Mildred added; 
109:107,28[V  ]| "every*one
109:107,29[V  ]| thinks it is immense."
109:107,30[A  ]| "Oh, I can see that$6#2$," 
109:107,30['  ]| said Isabel.  
109:107,30[A  ]| "But if I were
109:107,31[A  ]| he I should wish to$9$ fight to$4$ the death: I mean for$4$
109:107,32[A  ]| the heritage of the past.  I should hold it tight."
109:108,01[V  ]| "I think one ought to$9$ be liberal," 
109:108,01['  ]| Mildred argued
109:108,02['  ]| gently.  
109:108,02[V  ]| "We have always been so$5#2$, even from the earliest
109:108,03[V  ]| times."
109:108,04[A  ]| "Ah well," 
109:108,04['  ]| said Isabel, 
109:108,04[A  ]| "you have made a great success
109:108,05[A  ]| of it; I do not wonder you like$1$ it.  I see you are very 
109:108,06[A  ]| fond of crewels."
109:108,07['  ]| When Lord*Warburton showed her the house,
109:108,08['  ]| after luncheon, it seemed to$4$ her a matter of course
109:108,09['  ]| that$3$ it should be a noble picture.  Within, it had been
109:108,10['  ]| a good deal modernised ~~ some of its best points had
109:108,11['  ]| lost their purity; but as they saw it from the gardens,
109:108,12['  ]| a stout grey pile, of the softest, deepest, most
109:108,13['  ]| weather-fretted hue, rising from a broad, still moat,
109:108,14['  ]| it affected the young visitor as a castle in$4$ a legend.
109:108,15['  ]| The day was cool and rather lustreless; the first note
109:108,16['  ]| of autumn had been struck, and the watery sunshine
109:108,17['  ]| rested on$4$ the walls in$4$ the blurred and desultory gleams,
109:108,18['  ]| washing them, as it were, in$4$ places tenderly chosen,
109:108,19['  ]| where the ache of antiquity was keenest.  Her host's
109:108,20['  ]| brother, the Vicar, had come to$4$ luncheon, and Isabel
109:108,21['  ]| had had five minutes' talk with him ~~ time enough
109:108,22['  ]| to$9$ institute a search for$4$ a rich ecclesiasticism and give
109:108,23['  ]| it up$5$ as vain.  The marks of the Vicar of Lockleigh
109:108,24['  ]| were a big, athletic figure, a candid, natural countenance,
109:108,25['  ]| a capacious appetite and a tendency to$4$ indiscriminate
109:108,26['  ]| laughter.  Isabel learned afterwards
109:108,27['  ]| from her cousin that$3$ 
109:108,27@b   | before taking orders he had
109:108,28@b   | been a mighty wrestler and that$3$ he was still, on$4$ occasion
109:108,29@b   | ~~ in$4$ the privacy of the family circle as it
109:108,30@b   | were ~~ quite capable of flooring his man.  
109:108,30['  ]| Isabel
109:108,31['  ]| liked him ~~ she was in$4$ the mood for$4$ liking everything;
109:108,32['  ]| but her imagination was a good deal taxed to$9$ 
109:109,01['  ]| think of him as a source of spiritual aid.  The whole
109:109,02['  ]| party, on$4$ leaving lunch, went to$9$ walk in$4$ the grounds;
109:109,03['  ]| but Lord*Warburton exercised some ingenuity in$4$
109:109,04['  ]| engaging his least familiar guest in$4$ a stroll apart
109:109,05['  ]| from the others.
109:109,06[D  ]| "I wish you to$9$ see the place properly, seriously,"
109:109,07['  ]| he said.  
109:109,07[D  ]| "You can not do so$5#2$ if your attention is distracted
109:109,08[D  ]| by$4$ irrelevant gossip."  
109:109,08['  ]| His own conversation (though
109:109,09['  ]| he told Isabel a good deal about the house, which$6#1$
109:109,10['  ]| had a very curious history) was not purely archaeological;
109:109,11['  ]| he reverted at intervals to$4$ matters more
109:109,12['  ]| personal ~~ matters personal to$4$ the young lady as
109:109,13['  ]| well as to$4$ himself.  But at last, after a pause of some
109:109,14['  ]| duration, returning for$4$ a moment to$4$ their ostensible
109:109,15['  ]| theme, 
109:109,15[D  ]| "Ah, well," 
109:109,15['  ]| he said, 
109:109,15[D  ]| "I am very glad indeed
109:109,16[D  ]| you like$1$ the old barrack.  I wish you could see more
109:109,17[D  ]| of it ~~ that$3$ you could stay here a while.  My sisters
109:109,18[D  ]| have taken an immense fancy to$4$ you ~~ if that$6#2$
109:109,19[D  ]| would be any inducement."
109:109,20[A  ]| "There is no$2$ want of inducements," 
109:109,20['  ]| Isabel answered;
109:109,21[A  ]| "but I am afraid I can not make engagements.
109:109,22[A  ]| I am quite in$4$ my aunt's hands."
109:109,23[D  ]| "Ah, pardon me if I say I do not exactly believe that$6#2$.
109:109,24[D  ]| I am pretty sure you can do whatever you want."
109:109,25[A  ]| "I am sorry if I make that$6#2$ impression on$4$ you;
109:109,26[A  ]| I do not think it is a nice impression to$9$ make."
109:109,27[D  ]| "It has the merit of permitting me to$9$ hope."  
109:109,27['  ]| And
109:109,28['  ]| Lord*Warburton paused a moment.
109:109,29[A  ]| "To$9$ hope what?"
109:109,30[D  ]| "That$3$ in$4$ future I may see you often."
109:109,31[A  ]| "Ah," 
109:109,31['  ]| said Isabel, 
109:109,31[A  ]| "to$9$ enjoy that$6#2$ pleasure I 
109:109,32[A  ]| need not be so$5#1$ terribly emancipated."
109:110,01[D  ]| "Doubtless not; and yet, at the same time, I do not
109:110,02[D  ]| think your uncle likes me."
109:110,03[A  ]| "You are very much mistaken.  I have heard him
109:110,04[A  ]| speak very highly of you."
109:110,05[D  ]| "I am glad you have talked about me," 
109:110,05['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.
109:110,06[D  ]| "But, I nevertheless do not think he would
109:110,07[D  ]| like$1$ me to$9$ keep coming to$4$ Gardencourt."
109:110,08[A  ]| "I can not answer for$4$ my uncle's tastes," 
109:100,08['  ]| the girl
109:110,09['  ]| rejoined, 
109:110,09[A  ]| "though I ought as far as possible to$9$ take
109:110,10[A  ]| them into account.  But for$4$ myself I shall be very
109:110,11[A  ]| glad to$9$ see you."
109:110,12[D  ]| "Now that$6#2$ is what I like$1$ to$9$ hear you say.  I am
109:110,13[D  ]| charmed when you say that$6#2$."
109:110,14[A  ]| "You are easily charmed, my lord," 
109:110,14['  ]| said Isabel.
109:110,15[D  ]| "No$7$, I am not easily charmed!"  
109:110,15['  ]| And then he
109:110,16['  ]| stopped a moment.  
109:110,16[D  ]| "But you have charmed me, Miss*Archer."
109:110,17[D  ]| 
109:110,18['  ]| These words were uttered with an indefinable
109:110,19['  ]| sound which$6#1$ startled the girl; 
109:110,19@a   | it struck her as the 
109:110,20@a   | prelude to$4$ something grave: 
109:110,20['  ]| she had heard the sound
109:110,21['  ]| before and she recognised it.  She had no$2$ wish, however,
109:110,22['  ]| that$3$ for$4$ the moment such a prelude should
109:110,23['  ]| have a sequel, and she said as gaily as possible and as
109:110,24['  ]| quickly as an appreciable degree of agitation would
109:110,25['  ]| allow her: 
109:110,25[A  ]| "I am afraid there is no$2$ prospect of my 
109:110,26[A  ]| being able to$9$ come here again."
109:110,27[D  ]| "Never?" 
109:110,27['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.
109:110,28[A  ]| "I will$1$ not say ""never""; I should feel very melodramatic."
109:110,29[A  ]| 
109:110,30[D  ]| "May I come and see you then some day next
109:110,31[D  ]| week?"
109:110,32[A  ]| "Most assuredly.  What is there to$9$ prevent it?"
109:111,01[D  ]| "Nothing tangible.  But with you I never feel safe.
109:111,02[D  ]| I have a sort of sense that$3$ you are always summing 
109:111,03[D  ]| people up$5$."
109:111,04[A  ]| "You do not of necessity lose by$4$ that$6#2$."
109:111,05[D  ]| "It is very kind of you to$9$ say so$5#2$; but, even if I gain,
109:111,06[D  ]| stern justice is not what I most love.  Is Mrs%*Touchett
109:111,07[D  ]| going to$9$ take you abroad?"
109:111,08[A  ]| "I hope so$5#2$."
109:111,09[D  ]| "Is England not good enough for$4$ you?"
109:111,10[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is a very Machiavellian speech; it does not
109:111,11[A  ]| deserve an answer.  I want to$9$ see as many countries
109:111,12[A  ]| as I can."
109:111,13[D  ]| "Then you will$1$ go on$5$ judging, I suppose."
109:111,14[A  ]| "Enjoying, I hope, too."
109:111,15[D  ]| "Yes, that$6#2$ is what you enjoy most; I can not make
109:111,16[D  ]| out what you are up$4$ to$4$," 
109:111,16['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.  
109:111,16[D  ]| "You
109:111,17[D  ]| strike me as having mysterious purposes ~~ vast
109:111,18[D  ]| designs."
109:111,19[A  ]| "You are so$5#1$ good as to$9$ have a theory about me
109:111,20[A  ]| which$6#1$ I do not at all fill out.  Is there anything mysterious
109:111,21[A  ]| in$4$ a purpose entertained and executed every 
109:111,22[A  ]| year, in$4$ the most public manner, by$4$ fifty thousand
109:111,23[A  ]| of my fellow-countrymen ~~ the purpose of improving
109:111,24[A  ]| one's mind by$4$ foreign travel?"
109:111,25[D  ]| "You can not improve your mind, Miss*Archer,"
109:111,26['  ]| her companion declared.  
109:111,26[D  ]| "It is already a most formidable
109:111,27[D  ]| instrument.  It looks down on$4$ us all; it despises
109:111,28[D  ]| us."
109:111,29[A  ]| "Depises you?  You are making fun of me," 
109:111,29['  ]| said
109:111,30['  ]| Isabel seriously.
109:111,31[D  ]| "Well, you think us ""quaint"" ~~ that$6#2$ is the same
109:112,01[D  ]| thing.  I will$1$ not be thought ""quaint"", to$9$ begin with;
109:112,02[D  ]| I am not so$5#2$ in$4$ the least.  I protest." 
109:112,03[A  ]| "That$6#2$ protest is one of the quaintest things I have
109:112,04[A  ]| ever heard," 
109:112,04['  ]| Isabel answered with a smile.
109:112,05['  ]| Lord*Warburton was briefly silent.  
109:112,05[D  ]| "You judge
109:112,06[D  ]| only from the outside ~~ you do not care," 
109:112,06['  ]| he said
109:112,07['  ]| presently.  
109:112,07[D  ]| "You only care to$9$ amuse yourself."  
109:112,07['  ]| The
109:112,08['  ]| note she had heard in$4$ his voice a moment before
109:112,09['  ]| reappeared, and mixed with it now was an audible
109:112,10['  ]| strain of bitterness ~~ a bitterness so$5#1$ abrupt and
109:112,11['  ]| inconsequent that$3$ the girl was afraid she had hurt
109:112,12['  ]| him.  She had often heard that$3$ the English are a 
109:112,13['  ]| highly eccentric people, and she had even read in$4$
109:112,14['  ]| some ingenious author that$3$ they are at bottom
109:112,15['  ]| the most romantic of races.  
109:112,15@a   | Was Lord*Warburton
109:112,16@a   | suddenly turning romantic ~~ was he going to$9$ make
109:112,17@a   | her a scene, in$4$ his own house, only the third time
109:112,18@a   | they had met?  
109:112,18['  ]| She was reassured quickly enough
109:112,19['  ]| by$4$ her sense of his great good manners, which$6#1$ was
109:112,20['  ]| not impaired by$4$ the fact that$3$ he had already touched
109:112,21['  ]| the furthest limit of good taste in$4$ expressing his
109:112,22['  ]| admiration of a young lady who$6#1$ had confided in$4$ his
109:112,23['  ]| hospitality.  She was right in$4$ trusting to$4$ his good
109:112,24['  ]| manners, for$3$ he presently went on$5$, laughing a little
109:112,25['  ]| and without a trace of the accent that$6#1$ had discomposed
109:112,26['  ]| her: 
109:112,26[D  ]| "I do not mean of course that$3$ you amuse 
109:112,27[D  ]| yourself with trifles.  You select great materials; the
109:112,28[D  ]| foibles, the afflictions of human nature, the peculiarities
109:112,29[D  ]| of nations!"
109:112,30[A  ]| "As regards that$6#2$," 
109:112,30['  ]| said Isabel, 
109:112,30[A  ]| "I should find in$4$
109:112,31[A  ]| my own nation entertainment for$4$ a lifetime.  But
109:112,32[A  ]| we have a long drive, and my aunt will$1$ soon wish to$9$
109:113,01[A  ]| start."  
109:113,01['  ]| She turned back toward the others and Lord*Warburton
109:113,02['  ]| walked beside her in$4$ silence.  But before
109:113,03['  ]| they reached the others, 
109:113,03[D  ]| "I shall come and see you 
109:113,04[D  ]| next week," 
109:113,04['  ]| he said.
109:113,05['  ]| She had received an appreciable shock, but as it
109:113,06['  ]| died away she felt that$3$ 
109:113,06@a   | she could not pretend to$4$ herself
109:113,07@a   | that$3$ it was altogether a painful one.  
109:113,07['  ]| Nevertheless
109:113,08['  ]| she made answer to$4$ his declaration, coldly enough,
109:113,09[A  ]| "Just as you please."  
109:113,09['  ]| And her coldness was not
109:113,10['  ]| the calculation of her effect ~~ a game she played in$4$ a 
109:113,11['  ]| much smaller degree than would have seemed probable 
109:113,12['  ]| to$4$ many critics.  It came from a certain fear.
110:114,01['  ]| The day after her visit to$4$ Lockleigh she received a 
110:114,02['  ]| note from her friend Miss*Stackpole ~~ a note of 
110:114,03['  ]| which$6#1$ the envelope, exhibiting in$4$ conjunction the 
110:114,04['  ]| postmark of Liverpool and the neat calligraphy of
110:114,05['  ]| the quick-fingered Henrietta, caused her some liveliness
110:114,06['  ]| of emotion.  
110:114,06[I  ]| "Here I am, my lovely friend,"
110:114,07['  ]| Miss*Stackpole wrote; 
110:114,07[I  ]| "I managed to$9$ get off at last.
110:114,08[I  ]| I decided only the night before I left New York ~~
110:114,09[I  ]| the \Interviewer\ having come round to$4$ my figure.
110:114,10[I  ]| I put a few things into a bag, like$4$ a veteran journalist,
110:114,11[I  ]| and came down to$4$ the steamer in$4$ a street-car.  Where
110:114,12[I  ]| are you and where can we meet?  I suppose you are
110:114,13[I  ]| visiting at some castle or other and have already
110:114,14[I  ]| acquired the correct accent.  Perhaps even you have
110:114,15[I  ]| married a lord; I almost hope you have, for$3$ I want
110:114,16[I  ]| some introductions to$4$ the first people and shall count
110:114,17[I  ]| on$4$ you for$4$ a few.  The \Interviewer\ wants some light
110:114,18[I  ]| on$4$ the nobility.  My first impressions (of the people
110:114,19[I  ]| at large) are not rose-coloured; but I wish to$9$ talk
110:114,20[I  ]| them over with you, and you know that$3$, whatever I 
110:114,21[I  ]| am, at least I am not superficial.  I have also something
110:114,22[I  ]| very particular to$9$ tell you.  Do appoint a meeting
110:114,23[I  ]| as quickly as you can; come to$4$ London (I should like$1$
110:114,24[I  ]| so$5#1$ much to$9$ visit the sights with you) or else let me
110:114,25[I  ]| come to$4$ you, \wherever you are\.  I will$1$ do so$5#2$ with
110:114,26[I  ]| pleasure; for$3$ you know everything interests me and
110:114,27[I  ]| I wish to$9$ see as much as possible of the inner life."
110:115,01['  ]| Isabel judged best not to$9$ show this letter to$4$ her
110:115,02['  ]| uncle; but she acquainted him with its purport, and,
110:115,03['  ]| as she expected, he begged her instantly to$9$ 
110:115,03@f   | assure
110:115,04@f   | Miss*Stackpole, in$4$ his name, that$3$ he should be delighted
110:115,05@f   | to$9$ receive her at Gardencourt.  
110:115,05[F  ]| "Though
110:115,06[F  ]| she is a literary lady," 
110:115,06['  ]| he said, 
110:115,06[F  ]| "I suppose that$3$,
110:115,07[F  ]| being an American, she will$1$ not show me up$5$, as that$6#2$
110:115,08[F  ]| other one did.  She has seen others like$4$ me."
110:115,09[A  ]| "She has seen no$2$ other so$5#1$ delightful!" 
110:115,09['  ]| Isabel answered;
110:115,10['  ]| but she was not altogether at ease about 
110:115,11['  ]| Henrietta's reproductive instincts, which$6#1$ belonged
110:115,12['  ]| to$4$ that$6#2$ side of her friend's character which$6#1$ she regarded
110:115,13['  ]| with least complacency.  She wrote to$4$ Miss*Stackpole,
110:115,14['  ]| however, that$3$ 
110:115,14@a   | she would be very welcome
110:115,15@a   | under Mr*Touchett's roof; 
110:115,15['  ]| and this alert young
110:115,16['  ]| woman lost no$2$ time in$4$ announcing her prompt approach.
110:115,17['  ]| She had gone up$5$ to$4$ London, and it was
110:115,18['  ]| from that$6#2$ centre that$3$ she took the train for$4$ the station
110:115,19['  ]| nearest to$4$ Gardencourt, where Isabel and Ralph
110:115,20['  ]| were in$4$ waiting to$9$ receive her.
110:115,21[B  ]| "Shall I love her or shall I hate her?" 
110:115,21['  ]| Ralph
110:115,22['  ]| asked while they moved along the platform.
110:115,23[A  ]| "Whichever you do will$1$ matter very little to$4$ her,"
110:115,24['  ]| said Isabel.  
110:115,24[A  ]| "She does not care a straw what men
110:115,25[A  ]| think of her."
110:115,26[B  ]| "As a man I am bound to$9$ dislike her then.  She 
110:115,27[B  ]| must be a kind of monster.  Is she very ugly?"
110:115,28[A  ]| "No$7$, she is decidedly pretty."
110:115,29[B  ]| "A female interviewer ~~ a reporter in$4$ petticoats?
110:115,30[B  ]| I am very curious to$9$ see her," 
110:115,30['  ]| Ralph conceded.
110:115,31[A  ]| "It is very easy to$9$ laugh at her but it is not easy 
110:115,32[A  ]| to$9$ be as brave as she."
110:116,01[B  ]| "I should think not; crimes of violence and attacks
110:116,02[B  ]| on$4$ the person require more or less pluck.  Do you
110:116,03[B  ]| suppose she will$1$ interview \me\?"
110:116,04[A  ]| "Never in$4$ the world.  She will$1$ not think you of 
110:116,05[A  ]| enough importance."
110:116,06[B  ]| "You will$1$ see," 
110:116,06['  ]| said Ralph.  
110:116,06[B  ]| "She will$1$ send a description
110:116,07[B  ]| of us all, including Bunchie, to$4$ her newspaper."
110:116,08[B  ]| 
110:116,09[A  ]| "I shall ask her not to$9$," 
110:116,09['  ]| Isabel answered.
110:116,10[B  ]| "You think she is capable of it then?"
110:116,11[A  ]| "Perfectly."
110:116,12[B  ]| "And yet you have made her your bosom-friend?"
110:116,13[A  ]| "I have not made her my bosom-friend; but I like$1$
110:116,14[A  ]| her in$4$ spite of her faults."
110:116,15[B  ]| "Ah well," 
110:116,15['  ]| said Ralph, 
110:116,15[B  ]| "I am afraid I shall dislike
110:116,16[B  ]| her in$4$ spite of her merits."
110:116,17[A  ]| "You will$1$ probably fall in$4$ love with her at the end
110:116,18[A  ]| of three days."
110:116,19[B  ]| "And have my love-letters published in$4$ the \Interviewer\?
110:116,20[B  ]| Never!" 
110:116,20['  ]| cried the young man.
110:116,21['  ]| The train presently arrived, and Miss*Stackpole,
110:116,22['  ]| promptly descending, proved, as Isabel had promised,
110:116,23['  ]| quite delicately, even though rather provincially, fair.
110:116,24['  ]| She was a neat, plump person, of medium stature,
110:116,25['  ]| with a round face, a small mouth, a delicate complexion,
110:116,26['  ]| a bunch of light brown ringlets at the back
110:116,27['  ]| of her head and a peculiarly open, surprised-looking
110:116,28['  ]| eye.  The most striking point in$4$ her appearance was
110:116,29['  ]| the remarkable fixedness of this organ, which$6#1$ rested
110:116,30['  ]| without impudence or defiance, but as if in$4$ conscientious
110:116,31['  ]| exercise of a natural right, upon$4$ every
110:116,32['  ]| object it happened to$9$ encounter.  It rested in$4$ this
110:117,01['  ]| manner upon$4$ Ralph himself, a little arrested by$4$ Miss*Stackpole's 
110:117,02['  ]| gracious and comfortable aspect, which$6#1$ 
110:117,03['  ]| hinted that$3$ it would not be so$5#1$ easy as he had assumed
110:117,04['  ]| to$9$ disapprove of her.  She rustled, she shimmered,
110:117,05['  ]| in$4$ fresh, dove-coloured draperies, and Ralph saw
110:117,06['  ]| at a glance that$3$ she was as crisp and new and comprehensive
110:117,07['  ]| as a first issue before the folding.  From
110:117,08['  ]| top to$4$ toe she had probably no$2$ misprint.  She spoke in$4$
110:117,09['  ]| a clear, high voice ~~ a voice not rich but loud; yet
110:117,10['  ]| after she had taken her place with her companions
110:117,11['  ]| in$4$ Mr%*Touchett's carriage she struck him as not
110:117,12['  ]| all in$4$ the large type, the type of horrid "headings,"
110:117,13['  ]| that$6#1$ he had expected.  She answered the enquiries
110:117,14['  ]| made of her by$4$ Isabel, however, and in$4$ which$6#1$ the 
110:117,15['  ]| young man ventured to$9$ join, with copious lucidity;
110:117,16['  ]| and later, in$4$ the library at Gardencourt, when she
110:117,17['  ]| had made the acquaintance of Mr*Touchett (his
110:117,18['  ]| wife not having thought it necessary to$9$ appear) did
110:117,19['  ]| more to$9$ give the measure of her confidence in$4$ her
110:117,20['  ]| powers.
110:117,21[I  ]| "Well, I should like$1$ to$9$ know whether you consider
110:117,22[I  ]| yourselves American or English," 
110:117,22['  ]| she broke out.
110:117,23[I  ]| "If once I knew I could talk to$4$ you accordingly."
110:117,24[B  ]| "Talk to$4$ us anyhow and we shall be thankful,"
110:117,25['  ]| Ralph liberally answered.
110:117,26['  ]| She fixed her eyes on$4$ him, and there was something
110:117,27['  ]| in$4$ their character that$6#1$ reminded him of large polished
110:117,28['  ]| buttons ~~ buttons that$6#1$ might have fixed the elastic
110:117,29['  ]| loops of some tense receptacle: he seemed to$9$ see the 
110:117,30['  ]| reflection of surrounding objects on$4$ the pupil.  The 
110:117,31['  ]| expression of a button is not usually deemed human,
110:117,32['  ]| but there was something in$4$ Miss*Stackpole's gaze
110:118,01['  ]| that$6#1$ made him, as a very modest man, feel vaguely
110:118,02['  ]| embarrassed ~~ less inviolate, more dishonoured, than
110:118,03['  ]| he liked.   This sensation, it must be added, after he
110:118,04['  ]| had spent a day or two in$4$ her company, sensibly
110:118,05['  ]| diminished, though it never wholly lapsed.  
110:118,05[I  ]| "I do not
110:118,06[I  ]| suppose that$3$ you are going to$9$ undertake to$9$ persuade
110:118,07[I  ]| me that$3$ \you are\ an American," 
110:118,07['  ]| she said.
110:118,08[B  ]| "To$9$ please you I will$1$ be an Englishman, I will$1$ be a 
110:118,09[B  ]| Turk!"
110:118,10[I  ]| "Well, if you can change about that$6#2$ way you are
110:118,11[I  ]| very welcome," 
110:118,11['  ]| Miss*Stackpole returned.
110:118,12[B  ]| "I am sure you understand everything and that$3$
110:118,13[B  ]| differences of nationality are no$2$ barrier to$4$ you,"
110:118,14['  ]| Ralph went on$5$.
110:118,15['  ]| Miss*Stackpole gazed at him still.  
110:118,15[I  ]| "Do you mean
110:118,16[I  ]| the foreign languages?"
110:118,17[B  ]| "The languages are nothing.  I mean the spirit ~~
110:118,18[B  ]| the genius."
110:118,19[I  ]| "I am not sure that$3$ I understand you," 
110:118,19['  ]| said the 
110:118,20['  ]| correspondent of the \Interviewer\; 
110:118,20[I  ]| "but I expect I
110:118,21[I  ]| shall before I leave."
110:118,22[A  ]| "He is what is called a cosmopolite," 
110:118,22['  ]| Isabel suggested.
110:118,23['  ]| 
110:118,24[I  ]| "That$6#2$ means he is a little of everything and not
110:118,25[I  ]| much of any.  I must say I think patriotism is like$4$
110:118,26[I  ]| charity ~~ it begins at home."
110:118,27[B  ]| "Ah, but where does home begin, Miss*Stackpole?"
110:118,28['  ]| Ralph enquired.
110:118,29[I  ]| "I do not know where it begins, but I know where
110:118,30[I  ]| it ends.  It ended a long time before I got here."
110:118,31[F  ]| "Do not you like$1$ it over here?" 
110:118,31['  ]| asked Mr%*Touchett
110:118,32['  ]| with his aged, innocent voice.
110:119,01[I  ]| "Well, sir, I have not quite made up$5$ my mind what 
110:119,02[I  ]| ground I shall take.  I feel a good deal cramped. I 
110:119,03[I  ]| felt it on$4$ the journey from Liverpool to$4$ London."
110:119,04[B  ]| "Perhaps you were in$4$ a crowded carriage," 
110:119,04['  ]| Ralph
110:119,05['  ]| suggested.
110:119,06[I  ]| "Yes, but it was crowded with friends ~~ a party 
110:119,07[I  ]| of Americans whose acquaintance I had made upon$4$
110:119,08[I  ]| the steamer; a lovely group from Little Rock, Arkansas.
110:119,09[I  ]| In$4$ spite of that$6#2$ I felt cramped ~~ I felt something 
110:119,10[I  ]| pressing upon$4$ me; I could not tell what it was.
110:119,11[I  ]| I felt at the very commencement as if I were not going
110:119,12[I  ]| to$9$ accord with the atmosphere.  But I suppose I shall
110:119,13[I  ]| make my own atmosphere.  That$6#2$ is the true way ~~
110:119,14[I  ]| then you can breathe.  Your surroundings seem very
110:119,15[I  ]| attractive."
110:119,16[B  ]| "Ah, we too are a lovely group!" 
110:119,16['  ]| said Ralph.
110:119,17[B  ]| "Wait a little and you will$1$ see."
110:119,18['  ]| Miss*Stackpole showed every disposition to$9$ wait
110:119,19['  ]| and evidently was prepared to$9$ make a considerable 
110:119,20['  ]| stay at Gardencourt.  She occupied herself in$4$ the 
110:119,21['  ]| mornings with literary labour; but in$4$ spite of this
110:119,22['  ]| Isabel spent many hours with her friend, who$6#1$, once
110:119,23['  ]| her daily task performed, deprecated, in$4$ fact defied,
110:119,24['  ]| isolation.  Isabel speedily found occasion to$9$ desire
110:119,25['  ]| her to$9$ desist from celebrating the charms of their
110:119,26['  ]| common sojourn in$4$ print, having discovered, on$4$ the 
110:119,27['  ]| second morning of Miss*Stackpole's visit, that$3$ she
110:119,28['  ]| was engaged on$4$ a letter to$4$ the \Interviewer\, of which$6#1$
110:119,29['  ]| the title, in$4$ her exquisitely neat and legible hand
110:119,30['  ]| (exactly that$6#2$ of the copybooks which$6#1$ our heroine
110:119,31['  ]| remembered at school) was "Americans and Tudors
110:119,32['  ]| ~~ Glimpses of Gardencourt."  Miss*Stackpole, with
110:120,01['  ]| the best conscience in$4$ the world, offered to$9$ read her
110:120,02['  ]| letter to$4$ Isabel, who$6#1$ immediately put in$4$ her protest.
110:120,03[A  ]| "I do not think you ought to$9$ do that$6#2$.  I do not think
110:120,04[A  ]| you ought to$9$ describe the place."
110:120,05['  ]| Henrietta gazed at her as usual.  
110:120,05[I  ]| "Why, it is just
110:120,06[I  ]| what the people want, and it is a lovely place."
110:120,07[A  ]| "It is too lovely to$9$ be put in$4$ the newspapers, and
110:120,08[A  ]| it is not what my uncle wants."
110:120,09[I  ]| "Do not you believe that$6#2$!" 
110:120,09['  ]| cried Henrietta.
110:120,10[I  ]| "They are always delighted afterwards."
110:120,11[A  ]| "My uncle will$1$ not be delighted ~~ nor my cousin
110:120,12[A  ]| either.  They will$1$ consider it a breach of hospitality."
110:120,13['  ]| Miss*Stackpole showed no$2$ sense of confusion; she
110:120,14['  ]| simply wiped her pen, very neatly, upon$4$ an elegant
110:120,15['  ]| little implement which$6#1$ she kept for$4$ the purpose, and
110:120,16['  ]| put away her manuscript.  
110:120,16[I  ]| "Of course if you do not 
110:120,17[I  ]| approve I will$1$ not do it; but I sacrifice a beautiful
110:120,18[I  ]| subject."
110:120,19[A  ]| "There are plenty of other subjects, there are
110:120,20[A  ]| subjects all round you. We will$1$ take some drives; I will$1$
110:120,21[A  ]| show you some charming scenery."
110:120,22[I  ]| "Scenery is not my department; I always need a 
110:120,23[I  ]| human interest.  You know I am deeply human, Isabel;
110:120,24[I  ]| I always was," 
110:120,24['  ]| Miss*Stackpole rejoined.  
110:120,24[I  ]| "I was
110:120,25[I  ]| going to$9$ bring in$4$ your cousin ~~ the alienated American. 
110:120,26[I  ]| There is a great demand just now for$4$ the 
110:120,27[I  ]| alienated American, and your cousin is a beautiful
110:120,28[I  ]| specimen.  I should have handled him severely."
110:120,29[A  ]| "He would have died of it!" 
110:120,29['  ]| Isabel exclaimed.
110:120,30[A  ]| "Not of the severity, but of the publicity."
110:120,31[I  ]| "Well, I should have liked to$9$ kill him a little.  And
110:120,32[I  ]| I should have delighted to$9$ do your uncle, who$6#1$ seems
110:121,01[I  ]| to$4$ me a much nobler type ~~ the American faithful
110:121,02[I  ]| still.  He is a grand old man; I do not see how he can
110:121,03[I  ]| object to$4$ my paying him honour."
110:121,04['  ]| Isabel looked at her companion in$4$ much wonderment;
110:121,05['  ]| it struck her as strange that$3$ a nature in$4$ which$6#1$
110:121,06['  ]| she found so$5#1$ much to$9$ esteem should break down so$5#2$
110:121,07['  ]| in$4$ spots.  
110:121,07[A  ]| "My poor Henrietta," 
110:121,07['  ]| she said, 
110:121,07[A  ]| "you have
110:121,08[A  ]| no$2$ sense of privacy."
110:121,09['  ]| Henrietta coloured deeply, and for$4$ a moment her
110:121,10['  ]| brilliant eyes were suffused, while Isabel found her
110:121,11['  ]| more than ever inconsequent.  
110:121,11[I  ]| "You do me great
110:121,12[I  ]| injustice," 
110:121,12['  ]| said Miss*Stackpole with dignity.  
110:121,12[I  ]| "I have
110:121,13[I  ]| never written a word about myself!"
110:121,14[A  ]| "I am very sure of that$6#2$; but it seems to$4$ me one
110:121,15[A  ]| should be modest for$4$ others also!"
110:121,16[I  ]| "Ah, that$6#2$ is very good!" 
110:121,16['  ]| cried Henrietta, seizing
110:121,17['  ]| her pen again.  
110:121,17[I  ]| "Just let me make a note of it and
110:121,18[I  ]| I will$1$ put it in$5$ somewhere."  
110:121,18['  ]| She was a thoroughly good-natured
110:121,19['  ]| woman, and half an hour later she was in$4$ 
110:121,20['  ]| as cheerful a mood as should have been looked for$5$ in$4$ 
110:121,21['  ]| a newspaper-lady in$4$ want of matter.  
110:121,21[I  ]| "I have promised
110:121,22[I  ]| to$9$ do the social side," 
110:121,22['  ]| she said to$4$ Isabel; 
110:121,22[I  ]| "and how
110:121,23[I  ]| can I do it unless I get ideas?  If I can not describe this
110:121,24[I  ]| place do not you know some place I \can\ describe?"
110:121,25['  ]| Isabel promised she would bethink herself, and the 
110:121,26['  ]| next day, in$4$ conversation with her friend, she happened 
110:121,27['  ]| to$9$ mention her visit to$4$ Lord*Warburton's ancient
110:121,28['  ]| house.  
110:121,28[I  ]| "Ah, you must take me there ~~ that$6#2$ is
110:121,29[I  ]| just the place for$4$ me!" 
110:121,29['  ]| Miss*Stackpole cried.  
110:121,29[I  ]| "I
110:121,30[I  ]| must get a glimpse of the nobility."
110:121,31[A  ]| "I can not take you," 
110:121,31['  ]| said Isabel; 
110:121,31[A  ]| "but Lord*Warburton is
110:121,32[A  ]| coming here, and you will$1$ have a chance to$9$
110:122,01[A  ]| see him and observe him.  Only if you intend to$9$ repeat
110:122,02[A  ]| his conversation I shall certainly give him warning."
110:122,03[A  ]|
110:122,04[I  ]| "Do not do that$6#2$," 
110:122,04['  ]| her companion pleaded; 
110:122,04[I  ]| "I want
110:122,05[I  ]| him to$9$ be natural."
110:122,06[A  ]| "An Englishman is never so$5#1$ natural as when
110:122,07[A  ]| he is holding his tongue," 
110:122,07['  ]| Isabel declared.
110:122,08['  ]| It was not apparent, at the end of three days, that$3$
110:122,09['  ]| her cousin had, according to$4$ her prophecy, lost his
110:122,10['  ]| heart to$4$ their visitor, though he had spent a good deal
110:122,11['  ]| of time in$4$ her society.  They strolled about the park
110:122,12['  ]| together and sat under the trees, and in$4$ the afternoon,
110:122,13['  ]| when it was delightful to$9$ float along the Thames,
110:122,14['  ]| Miss*Stackpole occupied a place in$4$ the boat in$4$ which$6#1$
110:122,15['  ]| hitherto Ralph had had but a single companion.  Her
110:122,16['  ]| presence proved somehow less irreducible to$4$ soft particles
110:122,17['  ]| than Ralph had expected in$4$ the natural perturbation
110:122,18['  ]| of his sense of the perfect solubility of that$6#2$
110:122,19['  ]| of his cousin; for$3$ the correspondent of the \Interviewer\
110:122,20['  ]| prompted mirth in$4$ him, and he had long since decided
110:122,21['  ]| that$3$ the \crescendo\ of mirth should be the flower
110:122,22['  ]| of his declining days.  Henrietta, on$4$ her side, failed
110:122,23['  ]| a little to$9$ justify Isabel's declaration with regard to$4$
110:122,24['  ]| her indifference to$4$ masculine opinion; for$3$ poor Ralph
110:122,25['  ]| appeared to$9$ have presented himself to$4$ her as an irritating
110:122,26['  ]| problem, which$6#1$ it would be almost immoral
110:122,27['  ]| not to$9$ work out.
110:122,28[I  ]| "What does he do for$4$ a living?" 
110:122,28['  ]| she asked of
110:122,29['  ]| Isabel the evening of her arrival.  
110:122,29[I  ]| "Does he go round
110:122,30[I  ]| all day with his hands in$4$ his pockets?"
110:122,31[A  ]| "He does nothing," 
110:122,31['  ]| smiled Isabel; 
110:122,31[A  ]| "he is a gentleman
110:122,32[A  ]| of large leisure."
110:123,01[I  ]| "Well, I call that$6#2$ a shame ~~ when I have to$9$ work
110:123,02[I  ]| like$4$ a car-conductor," 
110:123,02['  ]| Miss*Stackpole replied.  
110:123,02[I  ]| "I
110:123,03[I  ]| should like$1$ to$9$ show him up$5$."
110:123,04[A  ]| "He is in$4$ wretched health; he is quite unfit for$4$
110:123,05[A  ]| work," 
110:123,05['  ]| Isabel urged.
110:123,06[I  ]| "Pshaw! do not you believe it.  I work when I am
110:123,07[I  ]| sick," 
110:123,07['  ]| cried her friend.  Later, when she stepped into
110:123,08['  ]| the boat on$4$ joining the water-party, she remarked to$4$
110:123,09['  ]| Ralph that$3$ 
110:123' 9@i   | she supposed he hated her and would like$1$
110:123,10@i   | to$9$ drown her.
110:123,11[B  ]| "Ah no$7$," 
110:123,11['  ]| said Ralph, 
110:123,11[B  ]| "I keep my victims for$4$ a 
110:123,12[B  ]| slower torture.  And you would be such an interesting
110:123,13[B  ]| one!"
110:123,14[I  ]| "Well, you do torture me; I may say that$6#2$.  But
110:123,15[I  ]| I shock all your prejudices; that$6#2$ is one comfort."
110:123,16[B  ]| "My prejudices?  I have not a prejudice to$9$ bless
110:123,17[B  ]| myself with.  There is intellectual poverty for$4$
110:123,18[B  ]| you."
110:123,19[I  ]| "The more shame to$4$ you; I have some delicious
110:123,20[I  ]| ones.  Of course I spoil your flirtation, or whatever it
110:123,21[I  ]| is you call it, with your cousin; but I do not care for$4$
110:123,22[I  ]| that$6#2$, as I render her the service of drawing you out.
110:123,23[I  ]| She will$1$ see how thin you are."
110:123,24[B  ]| "Ah, do draw me out!" 
110:123,24['  ]| Ralph exclaimed.  
110:123,24[B  ]| "So$5#1$
110:123,25[B  ]| few people will$1$ take the trouble."
110:123,26['  ]| Miss*Stackpole, in$4$ this undertaking, appeared to$9$
110:123,27['  ]| shrink from no$2$ effort; resorting largely, whenever
110:123,28['  ]| the opportunity offered, to$4$ the natural expedient of
110:123,29['  ]| interrogation.  On$4$ the following day the weather was
110:123,30['  ]| bad, and in$4$ the afternoon the young man, by$4$ way
110:123,31['  ]| of providing indoor amusement, offered to$9$ show her
110:123,32['  ]| the pictures.  Henrietta strolled through the long
110:124,01['  ]| gallery in$4$ his society, while he pointed out its principal
110:124,02['  ]| ornaments and mentioned the painters and 
110:124,03['  ]| subjects.  Miss*Stackpole looked at the pictures in$4$
110:124,04['  ]| perfect silence, committing herself to$4$ no$2$ opinion, and
110:124,05['  ]| Ralph was gratified by$4$ the fact that$3$ she delivered herself
110:124,06['  ]| of none of the little ready-made ejaculations of
110:124,07['  ]| delight of which$6#1$ the visitors to$4$ Gardencourt were so$5#1$
110:124,08['  ]| frequently lavish.  This young lady indeed, to$9$ do her
110:124,09['  ]| justice, was but little addicted to$4$ the use of conventional
110:124,10['  ]| terms; there was something earnest and inventive
110:124,11['  ]| in$4$ her tone, which$6#1$ at times, in$4$ its strained deliberation,
110:124,12['  ]| suggested a person of high culture speaking
110:124,13['  ]| a foreign language.  Ralph*Touchett subsequently
110:124,14['  ]| learned that$3$ she had at one time officiated as art-critic
110:124,15['  ]| to$4$ a journal of the other world; but she appeared,
110:124,16['  ]| in$4$ spite of this fact, to$9$ carry in$4$ her pocket none of the 
110:124,17['  ]| small change of admiration.  Suddenly, just after he
110:124,18['  ]| had called her attention to$4$ a charming Constable, she
110:124,19['  ]| turned and looked at him as if he himself had been
110:124,20['  ]| a picture.
110:124,21[I  ]| "Do you always spend your time like$4$ this?" 
110:124,21['  ]| she
110:124,22['  ]| demanded.
110:124,23[B  ]| "I seldom spend it so$5#1$ agreeably."
110:124,24[I  ]| "Well, you know what I mean ~~ without any
110:124,25[I  ]| regular occupation."
110:124,26[B  ]| "Ah," 
110:124,26['  ]| said Ralph, 
110:124,26[B  ]| "I am the idlest man living."
110:124,27['  ]| Miss*Stackpole directed her gaze to$4$ the Constable
110:124,28['  ]| again, and Ralph bespoke her attention for$4$ a small
110:124,29['  ]| Lancret hanging near it, which$6#1$ represented a gentleman
110:124,30['  ]| in$4$ a pink doublet and hose and a ruff, leaning
110:124,31['  ]| against the pedestal of the statue of a nymph in$4$ a 
110:124,32['  ]| garden and playing the guitar to$4$ two ladies seated on$4$
110:125,01['  ]| the grass.  
110:125,01[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is my ideal of a regular occupation,"
110:125,02['  ]| he said.
110:125,03['  ]| Miss*Stackpole turned to$4$ him again, and, though
110:125,04['  ]| her eyes had rested upon$4$ the picture, he saw she had
110:125,05['  ]| missed the subject.  She was thinking of something
110:125,06['  ]| much more serious.  
110:125,06[I  ]| "I do not see how you can reconcile
110:125,07[I  ]| it to$4$ your conscience."
110:125,08[B  ]| "My dear lady, I \have\ no$2$ conscience!"
110:125,09[I  ]| "Well, I advise you to$9$ cultivate one.  You will$1$ need
110:125,10[I  ]| it next time you go to$4$ America."
110:125,11[B  ]| "I shall probably never go again."
110:125,12[I  ]| "Are you ashamed to$9$ show yourself?"
110:125,13['  ]| Ralph meditated with a mild smile.  
110:125,13[B  ]| "I suppose
110:125,14[B  ]| that$3$ if one has no$2$ conscience one has no$2$ shame."
110:125,15[I  ]| "Well, you have got plenty of assurance," 
110:125,15['  ]| Henrietta
110:125,16['  ]| declared.  
110:125,16[I  ]| "Do you consider it right to$9$ give up$5$
110:125,17[I  ]| your country?"
110:125,18[B  ]| "Ah, one does not give up$5$ one's country any more
110:125,19[B  ]| than one gives up$5$ one's grandmother.  They are both
110:125,20[B  ]| antecedent to$4$ choice ~~ elements of one's composition
110:125,21[B  ]| that$6#1$ are not to$9$ be eliminated."
110:125,22[I  ]| "I suppose that$6#2$ means that$3$ you have tried and been
110:125,23[I  ]| worsted.  What do they think of you over here?"
110:125,24[B  ]| "They delight in$4$ me."
110:125,25[I  ]| "That$6#2$ is because you truckle to$4$ them."
110:125,26[B  ]| "Ah, set it down a little to$4$ my natural charm!"
110:125,27['  ]| Ralph sighed.
110:125,28[I  ]| "I do not know anything about your natural charm.
110:125,29[I  ]| If you have got any charm it is quite unnatural.  It is
110:125,30[I  ]| wholly acquired ~~ or at least you have tried hard to$9$
110:125,31[I  ]| acquire it, living over here.  I do not say you have succeeded.
110:125,32[I  ]| It is a charm that$6#1$ I do not appreciate, anyway.
110:126,01[I  ]| Make yourself useful in$4$ some way, and then
110:126,02[I  ]| we will$1$ talk about it."
110:126,03[B  ]| "Well, now, tell me what I shall do," 
110:126,03['  ]| said Ralph.
110:126,04[I  ]| "Go right home, to$9$ begin with."
110:126,05[B  ]| "Yes, I see.  And then?"
110:126,06[I  ]| "Take right hold of something."
110:126,07[B  ]| "Well, now, what sort of thing?"
110:126,08[I  ]| "Anything you please, so$5#1$ long as you take hold.
110:126,09[I  ]| Some new idea, some big work."
110:126,10[B  ]| "Is it very difficult to$9$ take hold?" 
110:126,10['  ]| Ralph enquired.
110:126,11[I  ]| "Not if you put your heart into it."
110:126,12[B  ]| "Ah, my heart," 
110:126,12['  ]| said Ralph.  
110:126,12[B  ]| "If it depends upon$4$
110:126,13[B  ]| my heart ~~ !"
110:126,14[I  ]| "Have not you got a heart?"
110:126,15[B  ]| "I had one a few days ago, but I have lost it 
110:126,16[B  ]| since."
110:126,17[I  ]| "You are not serious," 
110:126,17['  ]| Miss*Stackpole remarked;
110:126,18[I  ]| "that$6#2$ is what is the matter with you."  
110:126,18['  ]| But for$4$ all this,
110:126,19['  ]| in$4$ a day or two, she again permitted him to$9$ fix her
110:126,20['  ]| attention and on$4$ the later occasion assigned a different
110:126,21['  ]| cause to$4$ her mysterious perversity.  
110:126,21[I  ]| "I know
110:126,22[I  ]| what is the matter with you, Mr*Touchett," 
110:126,22['  ]| she said.
110:126,23[I  ]| "You think you are too good to$9$ get married."
110:126,24[B  ]| "I thought so$5#2$ till I knew you, Miss*Stackpole,"
110:126,25['  ]| Ralph answered; 
110:126,25[B  ]| "and then I suddenly changed my
110:126,26[B  ]| mind."
110:126,27[I  ]| "Oh pshaw!" 
110:126,27['  ]| Henrietta groaned.
110:126,28[B  ]| "Then it seemed to$4$ me," 
110:126,28['  ]| said Ralph, 
110:126,28[B  ]| "that$3$ I was
110:126,29[B  ]| not good enough."
110:126,30[I  ]| "It would improve you.  Besides, it is your duty."
110:126,31[B  ]| "Ah," 
110:126,31['  ]| cried the young man, 
110:126,31[B  ]| "one has so$5#1$ many 
110:126,32[B  ]| duties!  Is that$6#2$ a duty too?"
110:127,01[I  ]| "Of course it is ~~ did you never know that$6#2$ before?
110:127,02[I  ]| It is every*one's duty to$9$ get married."
110:127,03['  ]| Ralph meditated a moment; he was disappointed.
110:127,04['  ]| There was something in$4$ Miss*Stackpole he had begun
110:127,05['  ]| to$9$ like$1$; it seemed to$4$ him that$3$ 
110:127,05@b   | if she was not a charming
110:127,06@b   | woman she was at least a very good "sort."  She 
110:127,07@b   | was wanting in$4$ distinction, but, as Isabel had said,
110:127,08@b   | she was brave: she went into cages, she flourished
110:127,09@b   | lashes, like$4$ a spangled lion-tamer.  
110:127,09['  ]| He had not supposed
110:127,10['  ]| her to$9$ be capable of vulgar arts, but these last 
110:127,11['  ]| words struck him as a false note.  When a marriageable
110:127,12['  ]| young woman urges matrimony on$4$ an unencumbered
110:127,13['  ]| young man the most obvious explanation 
110:127,14['  ]| of her conduct is not the altruistic impulse.
110:127,15[B  ]| "Ah, well now, there is a good deal to$9$ be said about
110:127,16[B  ]| that$6#2$," 
110:127,16['  ]| Ralph rejoined.
110:127,17[I  ]| "There may be, but that$6#2$ is the principal thing.
110:127,18[I  ]| I must say I think it looks very exclusive, going round
110:127,19[I  ]| all alone, as if you thought no$2$ woman was good 
110:127,20[I  ]| enough for$4$ you.  Do you think you are better than
110:127,21[I  ]| any*one else in$4$ the world?  In$4$ America it is usual for$4$
110:127,22[I  ]| people to$9$ marry."
110:127,23[B  ]| "If it is my duty," 
110:127,23['  ]| Ralph asked, 
110:127,23[B  ]| "is it not, by$4$ analogy,
110:127,24[B  ]| yours as well?"
110:127,25['  ]| Miss*Stackpole's ocular surfaces unwinkingly
110:127,26['  ]| caught the sun.  
110:127,26[I  ]| "Have you the fond hope of finding
110:127,27[I  ]| a flaw in$4$ my reasoning?  Of course I have as good a 
110:127,28[I  ]| right to$9$ marry as any*one else."
110:127,29[B  ]| "Well then," 
110:127,29['  ]| said Ralph, 
110:127,29[B  ]| "I will$1$ not say it vexes me
110:127,30[B  ]| to$9$ see you single.  It delights me rather."
110:127,31[I  ]| "You are not serious yet.  You never will$1$ be."
110:127,32[B  ]| "Shall you not believe me to$9$ be so$5#2$ on$4$ the day I tell
110:128,01[B  ]| you I desire to$9$ give up$5$ the practice of going round 
110:128,02[B  ]| alone?"
110:128,03['  ]| Miss*Stackpole looked at him for$4$ a moment in$4$ a 
110:128,04['  ]| manner which$6#1$ seemed to$9$ announce a reply that$6#1$ might
110:128,05['  ]| technically be called encouraging.  But to$4$ his great
110:128,06['  ]| surprise this expression suddenly resolved itself into
110:128,07['  ]| an appearance of alarm and even of resentment.
110:128,08[I  ]| "No$7$, not even then," 
110:128,08['  ]| she answered dryly.  After
110:128,09['  ]| which$6#1$ she walked away.
110:128,10[B  ]| "I have not conceived a passion for$4$ your friend,"
110:128,11['  ]| Ralph said that$6#2$ evening to$4$ Isabel, 
110:128,11[B  ]| "though we talked
110:128,12[B  ]| some time this morning about it."
110:128,13[A  ]| "And you said something she did not like$1$," 
110:128,13['  ]| the 
110:128,14['  ]| girl replied.
110:128,15['  ]| Ralph stared.  
110:128,15[B  ]| "Has she complained of me?"
110:128,16[A  ]| "She told me she thinks there is something very
110:128,17[A  ]| low in$4$ the tone of Europeans towards women."
110:128,18[B  ]| "Does she call me a European?"
110:128,19[A  ]| "One of the worst.  She told me you had said to$4$
110:128,20[A  ]| her something that$6#1$ an American never would have 
110:128,21[A  ]| said.  But she did not repeat it."
110:128,22['  ]| Ralph treated himself to$4$ a luxury of laughter.
110:128,23[B  ]| "She is an extraordinary combination.  Did she
110:128,24[B  ]| think I was making love to$4$ her?"
110:128,25[A  ]| "No$7$; I believe even Americans do that$6#2$.  But she
110:128,26[A  ]| apparently thought you mistook the intention of something
110:128,27[A  ]| she had said, and put an unkind construction
110:128,28[A  ]| on$4$ it."
110:128,29[B  ]| "I thought she was proposing marriage to$4$ me and 
110:128,30[B  ]| I accepted her.  Was that$6#2$ unkind?"
110:128,31['  ]| Isabel smiled.  
110:128,31[A  ]| "It was unkind to$4$ \me\.  I do not
110:128,32[A  ]| want you to$9$ marry."
110:129,01[B  ]| "My dear cousin, what is one to$9$ do among you
110:129,02[B  ]| all?"  
110:129,02['  ]| Ralph demanded.  
110:129,02[B  ]| "Miss*Stackpole tells me
110:129,03[B  ]| it is my bounden duty, and that$3$ it is hers, in$4$ general,
110:129,04[B  ]| to$9$ see I do mine!"
110:129,05[A  ]| "She has a great sense of duty," 
110:129,05['  ]| said Isabel gravely.
110:129,06[A  ]| "She has indeed, and it is the motive of everything she
110:129,07[A  ]| says.  That$6#2$ is what I like$1$ her for$4$.  She thinks it is
110:129,08[A  ]| unworthy of you to$9$ keep so$5#1$ many things to$4$ yourself.
110:129,09[A  ]| That$6#2$ is what she wanted to$9$ express.  If you thought
110:129,10[A  ]| she was trying to$9$ ~~ to$9$ attract you, you were very
110:129,11[A  ]| wrong."
110:129,12[B  ]| "It is true it was an odd way, but I did think she
110:129,13[B  ]| was trying to$9$ attract me.  Forgive my depravity."
110:129,14[A  ]| "You are very conceited.  She had no$2$ interested
110:129,15[A  ]| views, and never supposed you would think she had."
110:129,16[B  ]| "One must be very modest then to$9$ talk with such
110:129,17[B  ]| women," 
110:129,17['  ]| Ralph said humbly.  
110:129,17[B  ]| "But it is a very
110:129,18[B  ]| strange type.  She is too personal ~~ considering that$3$
110:129,19[B  ]| she expects other people not to$9$ be.  She walks in$5$
110:129,20[B  ]| without knocking at the door."
110:129,21[A  ]| "Yes," 
110:129,21['  ]| Isabel admitted, 
110:129,21[A  ]| "she does not sufficiently
110:129,22[A  ]| recognise the existence of knockers; and indeed I am
110:129,23[A  ]| not sure that$3$ she does not think them rather a pretentious
110:129,24[A  ]| ornament.  She thinks one's door should
110:129,25[A  ]| stand ajar.  But I persist in$4$ liking her."
110:129,26[B  ]| "I persist in$4$ thinking her too familiar," 
110:129,26['  ]| Ralph
110:129,27['  ]| rejoined, naturally somewhat uncomfortable under
110:129,28['  ]| the sense of having been doubly deceived in$4$ Miss*Stackpole.
110:129,29['  ]| 
110:129,30[A  ]| "Well," 
110:129,30['  ]| said Isabel, smiling, 
110:129,30[A  ]| "I am afraid it is
110:129,31[A  ]| because she is rather vulgar that$3$ I like$1$ her."
110:129,32[B  ]| "She would be flattered by$4$ your reason!"
110:130,01[A  ]| "If I should tell her I would not express it in$4$ that$6#2$
110:130,02[A  ]| way.  I should say it is because there is something of
110:130,03[A  ]| the ""people"" in$4$ her."
110:130,04[B  ]| "What do you know about people? and what 
110:130,05[B  ]| does she, for$4$ that$6#2$ matter?"
110:130,06[A  ]| "She knows a great deal, and I know enough to$9$ feel
110:130,07[A  ]| that$3$ she is a kind of emanation of the great democracy
110:130,08[A  ]| ~~ of the continent, the country, the nation.  I do not
110:130,09[A  ]| say that$3$ she sums it all up$5$, that$6#2$ would be too much
110:130,10[A  ]| to$9$ ask of her.  But she suggests it; she vividly figures
110:130,11[A  ]| it."
110:130,12[B  ]| "You like$1$ her then for$4$ patriotic reasons.  I am
110:130,13[B  ]| afraid it is on$4$ those very grounds I object to$4$ her."
110:130,14[A  ]| "Ah," 
110:130,14['  ]| said Isabel with a kind of joyous sigh, 
110:130,14[A  ]| "I
110:130,15[A  ]| like$1$ so$5#1$ many things!  If a thing strikes me with a 
110:130,16[A  ]| certain intensity I accept it.  I do not want to$9$ swagger,
110:130,17[A  ]| but I suppose I am rather versatile.  I like$1$ people
110:130,18[A  ]| to$9$ be totally different from Henrietta ~~ in$4$ the style
110:130,19[A  ]| of Lord*Warburton's sisters for$4$ instance.  So$5#1$ long as
110:130,20[A  ]| I look at the Misses*Molyneux they seem to$4$ me to$9$ 
110:130,21[A  ]| answer a kind of ideal.  Then Henrietta presents
110:130,22[A  ]| herself, and I am straightway convinced by$4$ \her\; not
110:130,23[A  ]| so much in$4$ respect to$4$ herself as in$4$ respect to$4$ what 
110:130,24[A  ]| masses behind her."
110:130,25[B  ]| "Ah, you mean the back view of her," 
110:130,25['  ]| Ralph suggested.
110:130,26['  ]| 
110:130,27[A  ]| "What she says is true," 
110:130,27['  ]| his cousin answered;
110:130,28[A  ]| "you will$1$ never be serious.  I like$1$ the great country
110:130,29[A  ]| stretching away beyond the rivers and across the
110:130,30[A  ]| prairies, blooming and smiling and spreading till
110:130,31[A  ]| it stops at the green Pacific!  A strong, sweet, fresh
110:130,32[A  ]| odour seems to$9$ rise from it, and Henrietta ~~ pardon
110:131,01[A  ]| my simile ~~ has something of that$6#2$ odour in$4$ her garments."
110:131,02[A  ]| 
110:131,03['  ]| Isabel blushed a little as she concluded this speech,
110:131,04['  ]| and the blush, together with the momentary ardour
110:131,05['  ]| she had thrown into it, was so$5#1$ becoming to$4$ her that$3$
110:131,06['  ]| Ralph stood smiling at her for$4$ a moment after she
110:131,07['  ]| had ceased speaking.  
110:131,07[B  ]| "I am not sure the Pacific is so$5#1$
110:131,08[B  ]| green as that$6#2$," 
110:131,08['  ]| he said; 
110:131,08[B  ]| "but you are a young woman
110:131,09[B  ]| of imagination.  Henrietta, however, does smell of
110:131,10[B  ]| the Future ~~ it almost knocks one down!"
111:132,01['  ]| He took a resolve after this not to$9$ misinterpret her
111:132,02['  ]| words even when Miss*Stackpole appeared to$9$ strike
111:132,03['  ]| the personal note most strongly.  He bethought himself
111:132,04['  ]| that$3$ persons, in$4$ her view, were simple and homogeneous 
111:132,05['  ]| organisms, and that$3$ he, for$4$ his own part, was
111:132,06['  ]| too perverted a representative of the nature of man 
111:132,07['  ]| to$9$ have a right to$9$ deal with her in$4$ strict reciprocity.
111:132,08['  ]| He carried out his resolve with a great deal of tact, and
111:132,09['  ]| the young lady found in$4$ renewed contact with him no$2$
111:132,10['  ]| obstacle to$4$ the exercise of her genius for$4$ unshrinking
111:132,11['  ]| enquiry, the general application of her confidence.
111:132,12['  ]| Her situation at Gardencourt therefore, appreciated
111:132,13['  ]| as we have seen her to$9$ be by$4$ Isabel and full of appreciation
111:132,14['  ]| herself of that$6#2$ free play of intelligence which$6#1$, 
111:132,15['  ]| to$4$ her sense, rendered Isabel's character a sister-spirit,
111:132,16['  ]| and of the easy venerableness of Mr%*Touchett,
111:132,17@i   | whose noble tone, 
111:132,17['  ]| as she said, 
111:132,17@i   | met with her full approval
111:132,18['  ]| ~~ her situation at Gardencourt would have
111:132,19['  ]| been perfectly comfortable had she not conceived an
111:132,20['  ]| irresistible mistrust of the little lady for$4$ whom she
111:132,21['  ]| had at first supposed herself obliged to$9$ "allow" as
111:132,22['  ]| mistress of the house.  She presently discovered, in$4$
111:132,23['  ]| truth, that$3$ this obligation was of the lightest and that$3$
111:132,24['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett cared very little how Miss*Stackpole
111:132,25['  ]| behaved.  Mrs%*Touchett had defined her to$4$ Isabel
111:132,26['  ]| as 
111:132,26@g   | both an adventuress and a bore ~~ adventuresses
111:132,27@g   | usually giving one more of a thrill; 
111:132,27['  ]| she had expressed
111:133,01['  ]| some surprise at her niece's having selected such
111:133,02['  ]| a friend, yet had immediately added that$3$ 
111:133,02@g   | she knew
111:133,03@g   | Isabel's friends were her own affair and that$3$ she had
111:133,04@g   | never undertaken to$9$ like$1$ them all or to$9$ restrict the
111:133,05@g   | girl to$4$ those she liked.
111:133,06[G  ]| "If you could see none but the people I like$1$, my
111:133,07[G  ]| dear, you would have a very small society," 
111:133,07['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett
111:133,08['  ]| frankly admitted; 
111:133,08[G  ]| "and I do not think I like$1$ any man
111:133,09[G  ]| or woman well enough to$9$ recommend them to$4$ you.
111:133,10[G  ]| When it comes to$4$ recommending it is a serious affair.
111:133,11[G  ]| I do not like$1$ Miss*Stackpole ~~ everything about her
111:133,12[G  ]| displeases me; she talks so$5#1$ much too loud and looks
111:133,13[G  ]| at one as if one wanted to$9$ look at \her\ ~~ which$6#1$ one
111:133,14[G  ]| does not.  I am sure she has lived all her life in$4$ a boarding-house,
111:133,15[G  ]| and I detest the manners and the liberties 
111:133,16[G  ]| of such places.  If you ask me if I prefer my own manners, 
111:133,17[G  ]| which$6#1$ you doubtless think very bad, I will$1$ tell you
111:133,18[G  ]| that$3$ I prefer them immensely.  Miss*Stackpole knows
111:133,19[G  ]| I detest boarding-house civilisation, and she detests
111:133,20[G  ]| me for$4$ detesting it, because she thinks it the highest
111:133,21[G  ]| in$4$ the world.  She would like$1$ Gardencourt a great deal
111:133,22[G  ]| better if it were a boarding-house.  For$4$ me, I find it
111:133,23[G  ]| almost too much of one!  We shall never get on$5$ together
111:133,24[G  ]| therefore, and there is no$2$ use trying."
111:133,25['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett was right in$4$ guessing that$3$ Henrietta
111:133,26['  ]| disapproved of her, but she had not quite put her
111:133,27['  ]| finger on$4$ the reason.  A day or two after Miss*Stackpole's
111:133,28['  ]| arrival she had made some invidious reflexions
111:133,29['  ]| on$4$ American hotels, which$6#1$ excited a vein of counter-argument
111:133,30['  ]| on$4$ the part of the correspondent of the 
111:133,31['  ]| \Interviewer\, who$6#1$ in$4$ the exercise of her profession had
111:133,32['  ]| acquainted herself, in$4$ the western world, with every
111:134,01['  ]| form of caravansary.  Henrietta expressed the opinion
111:134,02['  ]| that$3$ 
111:134,02@i   | American hotels were the best in$4$ the world,
111:134,03['  ]| and Mrs%*Touchett, fresh from a renewed struggle
111:134,04['  ]| with them, recorded a conviction that$3$ 
111:134,04@g   | they were the
111:134,05@g   | worst.  
111:134,05['  ]| Ralph, with his experimental geniality, suggested, 
111:134,06['  ]| by$4$ way of healing the breach, that$3$ 
111:134,06@b   | the truth
111:134,07@b   | lay between the two extremes and that$3$ the establishments
111:134,08@b   | in$4$ question ought to$9$ be described as fair middling.  
111:134,09['  ]| This contribution to$4$ the discussion, however,
111:134,10['  ]| Miss*Stackpole rejected with scorn.  
111:134,10@i   | Middling indeed!
111:134,11@i   | If they were not the best in$4$ the world they
111:134,12@i   | were the worst, but there was nothing middling about
111:134,13@i   | an American hotel.
111:134,14[G  ]| "We judge from different points of view, evidently,"
111:134,15['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett.  
111:134,15[G  ]| "I like$1$ to$9$ be treated as an individual;
111:134,16[G  ]| you like$1$ to$9$ be treated as a ""party."""
111:134,17[I  ]| "I do not know what you mean," 
111:134,17['  ]| Henrietta replied.
111:134,18[I  ]| "I like$1$ to$9$ be treated as an American lady."
111:134,19[G  ]| "Poor American ladies!" 
111:134,19['  ]| cried Mrs%*Touchett
111:134,20['  ]| with a laugh.  
111:134,20[G  ]| "They are the slaves of slaves."
111:134,21[I  ]| "They are the companions of freemen," 
111:134,21['  ]| Henrietta 
111:134,22['  ]| retorted.
111:134,23[G  ]| "They are the companions of their servants ~~ the 
111:134,24[G  ]| Irish chambermaid and the negro waiter.  They share
111:134,25[G  ]| their work."
111:134,26[I  ]| "Do you call the domestics in$4$ an American household
111:134,27[I  ]| ""slaves""?" 
111:134,27['  ]| Miss*Stackpole enquired.  
111:134,27[I  ]| "If that$6#2$ is 
111:134,28[I  ]| the way you desire to$9$ treat them, no$2$ wonder you do not
111:134,29[I  ]| like$1$ America."
111:134,30[G  ]| "If you have not good servants you are miserable,"
111:134,31['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett serenely said.  
111:134,31[G  ]| "They are very bad
111:134,32[G  ]| in$4$ America, but I have five perfect ones in$4$ Florence."
111:135,01[I  ]| "I do not see what you want with five," 
111:135,01['  ]| Henrietta
111:135,02['  ]| could not help observing.  
111:135,02[I  ]| "I do not think I should
111:135,03[I  ]| like$1$ to$9$ see five persons surrounding me in$4$ that$6#2$ menial
111:135,04[I  ]| position."
111:135,05[G  ]| "I like$1$ them in$4$ that$6#2$ position better than in$4$ some
111:135,06[G  ]| others," 
111:135,06['  ]| proclaimed Mrs%*Touchett with much meaning.
111:135,07['  ]|
111:135,08[F  ]| "Should you like$1$ me better if I were your butler,
111:135,09[F  ]| dear?" 
111:135,09['  ]| her husband asked.
111:135,10[G  ]| "I do not think I should: you would not at all have 
111:135,11[G  ]| the \9tenue\."
111:135,12[B  ]| "The companions of freemen ~~ I like$1$ that$6#2$, Miss*Stackpole,"
111:135,13['  ]| said Ralph.  
111:135,13[B  ]| "It is a beautiful description."
111:135,14[B  ]| 
111:135,15[I  ]| "When I said freemen I did not mean you, sir!"
111:135,16['  ]| And this was the only reward that$6#1$ Ralph got for$4$ 
111:135,17['  ]| his compliment.  Miss*Stackpole was baffled; she
111:135,18['  ]| evidently thought there was something treasonable
111:135,19['  ]| in$4$ Mrs%*Touchett's appreciation of a class which$6#1$ she
111:135,20['  ]| privately judged to$9$ be a mysterious survival of feudalism.
111:135,21['  ]| It was perhaps because her mind was oppressed
111:135,22['  ]| with this image that$3$ she suffered some days to$9$ elapse
111:135,23['  ]| before she took occasion to$9$ say to$4$ Isabel: 
111:135,23[I  ]| "My dear
111:135,24[I  ]| friend, I wonder if you are growing faithless."
111:135,25[A  ]| "Faithless?  Faithless to$4$ you, Henrietta?"
111:135,26[I  ]| "No$7$, that$6#2$ would be a great pain; but it is not
111:135,27[I  ]| that$6#2$."
111:135,28[A  ]| "Faithless to$4$ my country then?"
111:135,29[I  ]| "Ah, that$6#2$ I hope will$1$ never be.  When I wrote to$4$
111:135,30[I  ]| you from Liverpool I said I had something particular
111:135,31[I  ]| to$9$ tell you.  You have never asked me what it is.  Is
111:135,32[I  ]| it because you have suspected?"
111:136,01[A  ]| "Suspected what?  As a rule I do not think I suspect,"
111:136,02['  ]| said Isabel.  
111:136,02[A  ]| "I remember now that$6#2$ phrase in$4$
111:136,03[A  ]| your letter, but I confess I had forgotten it.  What
111:136,04[A  ]| have you to$9$ tell me?"
111:136,05['  ]| Henrietta looked disappointed, and her steady
111:136,06['  ]| gaze betrayed it.  
111:136,06[I  ]| "You do not ask that$6#2$ right ~~ as
111:136,07[I  ]| if you thought it important.  You are changed ~~ 
111:136,08[I  ]| you are thinking of other things."
111:136,09[A  ]| "Tell me what you mean, and I will$1$ think of that$6#2$."
111:136,10[I  ]| "Will$1$ you really think of it?  That$6#2$ is what I wish
111:136,11[I  ]| to$9$ be sure of."
111:136,12[A  ]| "I have not much control of my thoughts, but I will$1$
111:136,13[A  ]| do my best," 
111:136,13['  ]| said Isabel.  Henrietta gazed at her,
111:136,14['  ]| in$4$ silence, for$4$ a period which$6#1$ tried Isabel's patience,
111:136,15['  ]| so$3$ that$3$ our heroine added at last: 
111:136,15[A  ]| "Do you mean that$3$
111:136,16[A  ]| you are going to$9$ be married?"
111:136,17[I  ]| "Not till I have seen Europe!" 
111:136,17['  ]| said Miss*Stackpole.
111:136,18[I  ]| "What are you laughing at?" 
111:136,18['  ]| she went on$5$.  
111:136,18[I  ]| "What
111:136,19[I  ]| I mean is that$3$ Mr%*Goodwood came out in$4$ the steamer
111:136,20[I  ]| with me."
111:136,21[A  ]| "Ah!" 
111:136,21['  ]| Isabel responded.
111:136,22[I  ]| "You say \that$6#2$\ right.  I had a good deal of talk with
111:136,23[I  ]| him; he has come after you."
111:136,24[A  ]| "Did he tell you so$5#2$?"
111:136,25[I  ]| "No$7$, he told me nothing; that$6#2$ is how I knew it,"
111:136,26['  ]| said Henrietta cleverly.  
111:136,26[I  ]| "He said very little about
111:136,27[I  ]| you, but I spoke of you a good deal."
111:136,28['  ]| Isabel waited.  At the mention of Mr%*Goodwood's
111:136,29['  ]| name she had turned a little pale.  
111:136,29[A  ]| "I am very sorry
111:136,30[A  ]| you did that$6#2$," 
111:136,30['  ]| she observed at last.
111:136,31[I  ]| "It was a pleasure to$4$ me, and I liked the way he
111:136,32[I  ]| listened.  I could have talked a long time to$4$ such 
111:137,01[I  ]| a listener; he was so$5#1$ quiet, so$5#1$ intense; he drank it
111:137,02[I  ]| all in$5$."
111:137,03[A  ]| "What did you say about me?" 
111:137,03['  ]| Isabel asked.
111:137,04[I  ]| "I said you were on$4$ the whole the finest creature 
111:137,05[I  ]| I know."
111:137,06[A  ]| "I am very sorry for$4$ that$6#2$.  He thinks too well of
111:137,07[A  ]| me already; he ought not to$9$ be encouraged."
111:137,08[I  ]| "He is dying for$4$ a little encouragement.  I see
111:137,09[I  ]| his face now, and his earnest absorbed look while
111:137,10[I  ]| I talked.  I never saw an ugly man look so$5#1$ handsome."
111:137,11[I  ]| 
111:137,12[A  ]| "He is very simple-minded," 
111:137,12['  ]| said Isabel.  
111:137,12[A  ]| "And
111:137,13[A  ]| he is not so$5#1$ ugly."
111:137,14[I  ]| "There is nothing so$5#1$ simplifying as a grand passion."
111:137,15[I  ]| 
111:137,16[A  ]| "It is not a grand passion; I am very sure it is
111:137,17[A  ]| not that$6#2$."
111:137,18[I  ]| "You do not say that$6#2$ as if you were sure."
111:137,19['  ]| Isabel gave rather a cold smile.  
111:137,19[A  ]| "I shall say it
111:137,20[A  ]| better to$4$ Mr%*Goodwood himself."
111:137,21[I  ]| "He will$1$ soon give you a chance," 
111:137,21['  ]| said Henrietta.
111:137,22['  ]| Isabel offered no$2$ answer to$4$ this assertion, which$6#1$ 
111:137,23['  ]| her companion made with an air of great confidence.
111:137,24[I  ]| "He will$1$ find you changed," 
111:137,24['  ]| the latter pursued.
111:137,25[I  ]| "You have been affected by$4$ your new surroundings."
111:137,26[A  ]| "Very likely.  I am affected by$4$ everything."
111:137,27[I  ]| "By$4$ everything but Mr%*Goodwood!" 
111:137,27['  ]| Miss*Stackpole
111:137,28['  ]| exclaimed with a slightly harsh hilarity.
111:137,29['  ]| Isabel failed even to$9$ smile back and in$4$ a moment
111:137,30['  ]| she said: 
111:137,30[A  ]| "Did he ask you to$9$ speak to$4$ me?"
111:137,31[I  ]| "Not in$4$ so$5#1$ many words.  But his eyes asked it ~~
111:137,32[I  ]| and his handshake, when he bade me good-bye."
111:138,01[A  ]| "Thank you for$4$ doing so$5#2$."  
111:138. 1['  ]| And Isabel turned
111:138,02['  ]| away.
111:138,03[I  ]| "Yes, you are changed; you have got new ideas over
111:138,04[I  ]| here," 
111:138,04['  ]| her friend continued.
111:138,05[A  ]| "I hope so$5#2$," 
111:138,05['  ]| said Isabel; 
111:138,05[A  ]| "one should get as many
111:138,06[A  ]| new ideas as possible."
111:138,07[I  ]| "Yes; but they should not interfere with the old
111:138,08[I  ]| ones when the old ones have been the right ones."
111:138,09['  ]| Isabel turned about again.  
111:138,09[A  ]| "If you mean that$3$
111:138,10[A  ]| I had any idea with regard to$4$ Mr%*Goodwood ~~ !"
111:138,11['  ]| But she faltered before her friend's implacable glitter.
111:138,12['  ]| 
111:138,13[I  ]| "My dear child, you certainly encouraged him."
111:138,14['  ]| Isabel made for$4$ the moment as if to$9$ deny this
111:138,15['  ]| charge; instead of which$6#1$, however, she presently 
111:138,16['  ]| answered: 
111:138,16[A  ]| "It is very true.  I did encourage him."
111:138,17['  ]| And then she asked 
111:138,17@a   | if her companion had learned
111:138,18@a   | from Mr%*Goodwood what he intended to$9$ do.  
111:138,18['  ]| It
111:138,19['  ]| was a concession to$4$ her curiosity, for$3$ she disliked
111:138,20['  ]| discussing the subject and found Henrietta wanting
111:138,21['  ]| in$4$ delicacy.
111:138,22[I  ]| "I asked him, and he said he meant to$9$ do nothing,"
111:138,23['  ]| Miss*Stackpole answered. 
111:138,23[I  ]| "But I do not believe that$6#2$;
111:138,24[I  ]| he is not a man to$9$ do nothing.  He is a man of high,
111:138,25[I  ]| bold action.  Whatever happens to$4$ him he will$1$ always
111:138,26[I  ]| do something, and whatever he does will$1$ always be 
111:138,27[I  ]| right."
111:138,28[A  ]| "I quite believe that$6#2$."  
111:138,28['  ]| Henrietta might be wanting
111:138,29['  ]| in$4$ delicacy, but it touched the girl, all the same, to$9$
111:138,30['  ]| hear this declaration.
111:138,31[I  ]| "Ah, you \do\ care for$4$ him!" 
111:138,31['  ]| her visitor rang out.
111:138,32[A  ]| "Whatever he does will$1$ always be right," 
111:138,31['  ]| Isabel
111:139,01['  ]| repeated.  
111:139,01[A  ]| "When a man is of that$6#2$ infallible mould
111:139,02[A  ]| what does it matter to$4$ him what one feels?"
111:139,03[I  ]| "It may not matter to$4$ him, but it matters to$4$ one's
111:139,04[I  ]| self."
111:139,05[A  ]| "Ah, what it matters to$4$ me ~~ that$6#2$ is not what we are
111:139,06[A  ]| discussing," 
111:139,06['  ]| said Isabel with a cold smile.
111:139,07['  ]| This time her companion was grave.  
111:139,07[I  ]| "Well, I 
111:139,08[I  ]| do not care; you \have\ changed.  You are not the girl
111:139,09[I  ]| you were a few short weeks ago, and Mr%*Goodwood
111:139,10[I  ]| will$1$ see it.  I expect him here any day."
111:139,11[A  ]| "I hope he will$1$ hate me then," 
111:139,11['  ]| said Isabel.
111:139,12[I  ]| "I believe you hope it about as much as I believe
111:139,13[I  ]| him capable of it."
111:139,14['  ]| To$4$ this observation our heroine made no$2$ return;
111:139,15['  ]| she was absorbed in$4$ the alarm given her by$4$ Henrietta's
111:139,16['  ]| intimation that$3$ Caspar*Goodwood would present 
111:139,17['  ]| himself at Gardencourt.  She pretended to$4$ herself,
111:139,18['  ]| however, that$3$ she thought the event impossible,
111:139,19['  ]| and, later, she communicated her belief to$4$ her
111:139,20['  ]| friend.  For$4$ the next forty-eight hours, nevertheless,
111:139,21['  ]| she stood prepared to$9$ hear the young man's name 
111:139,22['  ]| announced.  The feeling pressed upon$4$ her; it made
111:139,23['  ]| the air sultry, as if there were to$9$ be a change of
111:139,24['  ]| weather; and the weather, socially speaking, had
111:139,25['  ]| been so$5#1$ agreeable during Isabel's stay at Gardencourt 
111:139,26['  ]| that$3$ any change would be for$4$ the worse.  Her
111:139,27['  ]| suspense indeed was dissipated the second day.  She
111:139,28['  ]| had walked into the park in$4$ company with the sociable 
111:139,29['  ]| Bunchie, and after strolling about for$4$ some time,
111:139,30['  ]| in$4$ a manner at once listless and restless, had seated
111:139,31['  ]| herself on$4$ a garden-bench, within sight of the house,
111:139,32['  ]| beneath a spreading beech, where, in$4$ a white dress
111:140,01['  ]| ornamented with black ribbons, she formed among
111:140,02['  ]| the flickering shadows a graceful and harmonious
111:140,03['  ]| image.  She entertained herself for$4$ some moments
111:140,04['  ]| with talking to$4$ the little terrier, as to$4$ whom the proposal
111:140,05['  ]| of an ownership divided with her cousin had
111:140,06['  ]| been applied as impartially as possible ~~ as impartially 
111:140,07['  ]| as Bunchie's own somewhat fickle and inconstant
111:140,08['  ]| sympathies would allow.  But she was notified
111:140,09['  ]| for$4$ the first time, on$4$ this occasion, of the finite character
111:140,10['  ]| of Bunchie's intellect; hitherto she had been
111:140,11['  ]| mainly struck with its extent.  It seemed to$4$ her at 
111:140,12['  ]| last that$3$ she would do well to$9$ take a book; formerly,
111:140,13['  ]| when heavy-hearted, she had been able, with the help
111:140,14['  ]| of some well-chosen volume, to$9$ transfer the seat of 
111:140,15['  ]| consciousness to$4$ the organ of pure reason.  Of late,
111:140,16['  ]| it was not to$9$ be denied, literature had seemed a fading
111:140,17['  ]| light, and even after she had reminded herself that$3$ her
111:140,18['  ]| uncle's library was provided with a complete set of
111:140,19['  ]| those authors which$6#1$ no$2$ gentleman's collection should
111:140,20['  ]| be without, she sat motionless and empty-handed,
111:140,21['  ]| her eyes bent on$4$ the cool green turf of the lawn.  Her
111:140,22['  ]| meditations were presently interrupted by$4$ the arrival
111:140,23['  ]| of a servant who$6#1$ handed her a letter.  The letter bore
111:140,24['  ]| the London postmark and was addressed in$4$ a hand
111:140,25['  ]| she knew ~~ that$6#2$ came into her vision, already so$5#2$
111:140,26['  ]| held by$4$ him, with the vividness of the writer's voice
111:140,27['  ]| or his face.  This document proved short and may 
111:140,28['  ]| be given entire.
111:140,29['  ]| 
111:140,30[E  ]| MY DEAR MISS*ARCHER ~~ I do not know whether
111:140,31[E  ]| you will$1$ have heard of my coming to$4$ England, but
111:140,32[E  ]| even if you have not it will$1$ scarcely be a surprise to$4$
111:141,01[E  ]| you.  You will$1$ remember that$3$ when you gave me my
111:141,02[E  ]| dismissal at Albany, three months ago, I did not accept 
111:141,03[E  ]| it.  I protested against it.  You in$4$ fact appeared
111:141,04[E  ]| to$9$ accept my protest and to$9$ admit that$3$ I had the right
111:141,05[E  ]| on$4$ my side.  I had come to$9$ see you with the hope that$3$
111:141,06[E  ]| you would let me bring you over to$4$ my conviction;
111:141,07[E  ]| my reasons for$4$ entertaining this hope had been of
111:141,08[E  ]| the best.  But you disappointed it; I found you 
111:141,09[E  ]| changed, and you were able to$9$ give me no$2$ reason for$4$
111:141,10[E  ]| the change.  You admitted that$3$ you were unreasonable,
111:141,11[E  ]| and it was the only concession you would make;
111:141,12[E  ]| but it was a very cheap one, because that$6#2$ is not your
111:141,13[E  ]| character.  No$7$, you are not, and you never will$1$ be,
111:141,14[E  ]| arbitrary or capricious.  Therefore it is that$3$ I believe
111:141,15[E  ]| you will$1$ let me see you again.  You told me that$3$
111:141,16[E  ]| I am not disagreeable to$4$ you, and I believe it; for$3$ I 
111:141,17[E  ]| do not see why that$6#2$ should be.  I shall always think
111:141,18[E  ]| of you; I shall never think of any*one else.  I came
111:141,19[E  ]| to$4$ England simply because you are here; I could not
111:141,20[E  ]| stay at home after you had gone: I hated the country
111:141,21[E  ]| because you were not in$4$ it.  If I like$1$ this country at
111:141,22[E  ]| present it is only because it holds you.  I have been 
111:141,23[E  ]| to$4$ England before, but have never enjoyed it much.
111:141,24[E  ]| May I not come and see you for$4$ half an hour?  This
111:141,25[E  ]| at present is the dearest wish of yours faithfully
111:141,26[E  ]|                                      CASPAR*GOODWOOD.
111:141,27[E  ]|                                     
111:141,28['  ]| Isabel read this missive with such deep attention
111:141,29['  ]| that$3$ she had not perceived an approaching tread on$4$
111:141,30['  ]| the soft grass.  Looking up$5$, however, as she mechanically
111:141,31['  ]| folded it she saw Lord*Warburton standing
111:141,32['  ]| before her.
112:142,01['  ]| She put the letter into her pocket and offered her
112:142,02['  ]| visitor a smile of welcome, exhibiting no$2$ trace of
112:142,03['  ]| discomposure and half surprised at her coolness.
112:142,04[D  ]| "They told me you were out here," 
112:142,04['  ]| said Lord*Warburton;
112:142,05[D  ]| "and as there was no*one in$4$ the drawing-room
112:142,06[D  ]| and it is really you that$6#1$ I wish to$9$ see, I came
112:142,07[D  ]| out with no$2$ more ado."
112:142,08['  ]| Isabel had got up$5$; she felt a wish, for$4$ the moment,
112:142,09['  ]| that$3$ he should not sit down beside her.  
112:142,09[A  ]| "I was just
112:142,10[A  ]| going indoors."
112:142,11[D  ]| "Please do not do that$6#2$; it is much jollier here;
112:142,12[D  ]| I have ridden over from Lockleigh; it is a lovely day."
112:142,13['  ]| His smile was peculiarly friendly and pleasing, and
112:142,14['  ]| his whole person seemed to$9$ emit that$6#2$ radiance of
112:142,15['  ]| good-feeling and good fare which$6#1$ had formed the
112:142,16['  ]| charm of the girl's first impression of him.  It surrounded
112:142,17['  ]| him like$4$ a zone of fine June weather.
112:142,18[A  ]| "We will$1$ walk about a little then," 
112:142,18['  ]| said Isabel,
112:142,19['  ]| who$6#1$ could not divest herself of the sense of an intention
112:142,20['  ]| on$4$ the part of her visitor and who$6#1$ wished both
112:142,21['  ]| to$9$ elude the intention and to$9$ satisfy her curiosity
112:142,22['  ]| about it.  It had flashed upon$4$ her vision once before,
112:142,23['  ]| and it had given her on$4$ that$6#2$ occasion, as we know,
112:142,24['  ]| a certain alarm.  This alarm was composed of several
112:142,25['  ]| elements, not all of which$6#1$ were disagreeable; she 
112:142,26['  ]| had indeed spent some days in$4$ analysing them and
112:142,27['  ]| had succeeded in$4$ separating the pleasant part of the 
112:143,01['  ]| idea of Lord*Warburton's "making up$5$" to$4$ her from
112:143,02['  ]| the painful.  It may appear to$4$ some readers that$3$ the
112:143,03['  ]| young lady was both precipitate and unduly fastidious;
112:143,04['  ]| but the latter of these facts, if the charge be
112:143,05['  ]| true, may serve to$9$ exonerate her from the discredit
112:143,06['  ]| of the former.  She was not eager to$9$ convince herself
112:143,07['  ]| that$3$ a territorial magnate, as she had heard Lord*Warburton
112:143,08['  ]| called, was smitten with her charms; the
112:143,09['  ]| fact of a declaration from such a source carrying
112:143,10['  ]| with it really more questions than it would answer.
112:143,11['  ]| She had received a strong impression of his being
112:143,12['  ]| a "personage," and she had occupied herself in$4$ examining
112:143,13['  ]| the image so$5#2$ conveyed.  At the risk of adding
112:143,14['  ]| to$4$ the evidence of her self-sufficiency it must be said 
112:143,15['  ]| that$3$ there had been moments when this possibility
112:143,16['  ]| of admiration by$4$ a personage represented to$4$ her
112:143,17['  ]| an aggression almost to$4$ the degree of an affront, quite
112:143,18['  ]| to$4$ the degree of an inconvenience.  
112:143,18@a   | She had never
112:143,19@a   | yet known a personage; there had been no$2$ personages,
112:143,20@a   | in$4$ this sense, in$4$ her life; there were probably
112:143,21@a   | none such at all in$4$ her native land.  
112:143,21['  ]| When she had
112:143,22['  ]| thought of individual eminence she had thought of
112:143,23['  ]| it on$4$ the basis of character and wit ~~ 
112:143,23@a   | of what one
112:143,24@a   | might like$1$ in$4$ a gentleman's mind and in$4$ his talk.
112:143,25['  ]| She herself was a character ~~ she could not help
112:143,26['  ]| being aware of that$6#2$; and hitherto her visions of a 
112:143,27['  ]| completed consciousness had concerned themselves
112:143,28['  ]| largely with moral images ~~ things as to$4$ which$6#1$ the
112:143,29['  ]| question would be whether they pleased her sublime
112:143,30['  ]| soul.  Lord*Warburton loomed up$5$ before her, largely
112:143,31['  ]| and brightly, as a collection of attributes and powers
112:143,32['  ]| which$6#1$ were not to$9$ be measured by$4$ this simple rule,
112:144,01['  ]| but which$6#1$ demanded a different sort of appreciation
112:144,02['  ]| ~~ an appreciation that$6#1$ the girl, with her habit of
112:144,03['  ]| judging quickly and freely, felt she lacked patience
112:144,04['  ]| to$9$ bestow.  He appeared to$9$ demand of her something
112:144,05['  ]| that$6#1$ no*one else, as it were, had presumed to$9$
112:144,06['  ]| do.  What she felt was that$3$ a territorial, a political,
112:144,07['  ]| a social magnate had conceived the design of drawing
112:144,08['  ]| her into the system in$4$ which$6#1$ he rather invidiously
112:144,09['  ]| lived and moved.  A certain instinct, not imperious,
112:144,10['  ]| but persuasive, told her to$9$ resist ~~ murmured to$4$
112:144,11['  ]| her that$3$ virtually she had a system and an orbit of
112:144,12['  ]| her own.  It told her other things besides ~~ things
112:144,13['  ]| which$6#1$ both contradicted and confirmed each other;
112:144,14@a   | that$3$ a girl might do much worse than trust herself to$4$
112:144,15@a   | such a man and that$3$ it would be very interesting
112:144,16@a   | to$9$ see something of his system from his own point of
112:144,17@a   | view; that$3$ on$4$ the other hand, however, there was
112:144,18@a   | evidently a great deal of it which$6#1$ she should regard
112:144,19@a   | only as a complication of every hour, and that$3$ even
112:144,20@a   | in$4$ the whole there was something stiff and stupid
112:144,21@a   | which$6#1$ would make it a burden.  
112:144,21['  ]| Furthermore there
112:144,22['  ]| was a young man lately come from America who$6#1$
112:144,23['  ]| had no$2$ system at all, but who$6#1$ had a character of
112:144,24['  ]| which$6#1$ it was useless for$4$ her to$9$ try to$9$ persuade herself
112:144,25['  ]| that$3$ the impression on$4$ her mind had been light.  The
112:144,26['  ]| letter she carried in$4$ her pocket all sufficiently reminded
112:144,27['  ]| her of the contrary.  Smile not, however, I 
112:144,28['  ]| venture to$9$ repeat, at this simple young woman from
112:144,29['  ]| Albany who$6#1$ debated whether she should accept an
112:144,30['  ]| English peer before he had offered himself and who$6#1$
112:144,31['  ]| was disposed to$9$ believe that$3$ on$4$ the whole she could
112:144,32['  ]| do better.  She was a person of great good faith, and
112:145,01['  ]| if there was a great deal of folly in$4$ her wisdom those
112:145,02['  ]| who$6#1$ judge her severely may have the satisfaction
112:145,03['  ]| of finding that$3$, later, she became consistently wise
112:145,04['  ]| only at the cost of an amount of folly which$6#1$ will$1$ constitute
112:145,05['  ]| almost a direct appeal to$4$ charity.
112:145,06['  ]| Lord*Warburton seemed quite ready to$9$ walk, to$9$
112:145,07['  ]| sit or to$9$ do anything that$6#1$ Isabel should propose, and
112:145,08['  ]| he gave her this assurance with his usual air of being
112:145,09['  ]| particularly pleased to$9$ exercise a social virtue.  But
112:145,10['  ]| he was, nevertheless, not in$4$ command of his emotions,
112:145,11['  ]| and as he strolled beside her for$4$ a moment, in$4$ silence,
112:145,12['  ]| looking at her without letting her know it, there was
112:145,13['  ]| something embarrassed in$4$ his glance and his misdirected 
112:145,14['  ]| laughter.  Yes, assuredly ~~ as we have 
112:145,15['  ]| touched on$4$ the point, we may return to$4$ it for$4$ a moment
112:145,16['  ]| again ~~ the English are the most romantic people
112:145,17['  ]| in$4$ the world and Lord*Warburton was about to$9$ give
112:145,18['  ]| an example of it.  
112:145,18@b   | He was about to$9$ take a step which$6#1$
112:145,19@b   | would astonish all his friends and displease a great
112:145,20@b   | many of them, and which$6#1$ had superficially nothing
112:145,21@b   | to$9$ recommend it.  The young lady who$6#1$ trod the turf
112:145,22@b   | beside him had come from a queer country across
112:145,23@b   | the sea which$6#1$ he knew a good deal about; her antecedents,
112:145,24@b   | her associations were very vague to$4$ his
112:145,25@b   | mind except in$4$ so$5#1$ far as they were generic, and in$4$
112:145,26@b   | this sense they showed as distinct and unimportant.
112:145,27@b   | Miss*Archer had neither a fortune nor the sort of 
112:145,28@b   | beauty that$6#1$ justifies a man to$4$ the multitude, and he
112:145,29@b   | calculated that$3$ he had spent about twenty-six hours
112:145,30@b   | in$4$ her company.  
112:145,30['  ]| He had summed up$5$ all this ~~ the 
112:145,31['  ]| perversity of the impulse, which$6#1$ had declined to$9$ avail
112:145,32['  ]| itself of the most liberal opportunities to$9$ subside,
112:146,01['  ]| and the judgement of mankind, as exemplified particularly
112:146,02['  ]| in$4$ the more quickly-judging half of it: he
112:146,03['  ]| had looked these things well in$4$ the face and then 
112:146,04['  ]| had dismissed them from his thoughts.  He cared no$2$
112:146,05['  ]| more for$4$ them than for$4$ the rosebud in$4$ his buttonhole.
112:146,06['  ]| It is the good fortune of a man who$6#1$ for$4$ the 
112:146,07['  ]| greater part of a lifetime has abstained without effort
112:146,08['  ]| from making himself disagreeable to$4$ his friends, that$3$
112:146,09['  ]| when the need comes for$4$ such a course it is not discredited 
112:146,10['  ]| by$4$ irritating associations.
112:146,11[A  ]| "I hope you had a pleasant ride," 
112:146,11['  ]| said Isabel, who$6#1$
112:146,12['  ]| observed her companion's hesitancy.
112:146,13[D  ]| "It would have been pleasant if for$4$ nothing else
112:146,14[D  ]| than that$3$ it brought me here."
112:146,15[A  ]| "Are you so$5#1$ fond of Gardencourt?" 
112:146,15['  ]| the girl asked,
112:146,16['  ]| more and more sure that$3$ he meant to$9$ make some
112:146,17['  ]| appeal to$4$ her; wishing not to$9$ challenge him if he
112:146,18['  ]| hesitated, and yet to$9$ keep all the quietness of her
112:146,19['  ]| reason if he proceeded.  It suddenly came upon$4$ her
112:146,20['  ]| that$3$ her situation was one which$6#1$ a few weeks ago
112:146,21['  ]| she would have deemed deeply romantic: the park
112:146,22['  ]| of an old English country-house, with the foreground
112:146,23['  ]| embellished by$4$ a "great" (as she supposed) nobleman
112:146,24['  ]| in$4$ the act of making love to$4$ a young lady who$6#1$,
112:146,25['  ]| on$4$ careful inspection, should be found to$9$ present
112:146,26['  ]| remarkable analogies with herself.  But if she was
112:146,27['  ]| now the heroine of the situation she succeeded
112:146,28['  ]| scarcely the less in$4$ looking at it from the outside.
112:146,28[D  ]| "I care nothing for$4$ Gardencourt," 
112:146,28['  ]| said her companion.
112:146,30[D  ]| "I care only for$4$ you."
112:146,31[A  ]| "You have known me too short a time to$9$ have a 
112:146,32[A  ]| right to$9$ say that$6#2$, and I can not believe you are serious."
112:147,01['  ]| These words of Isabel's were not perfectly sincere,
112:147,02['  ]| for$3$ she had no$2$ doubt whatever that$3$ he himself was.   
112:147,03['  ]| They were simply a tribute to$4$ the fact, of which$6#1$ she
112:147,04['  ]| was perfectly aware, that$3$ those he had just uttered
112:147,05['  ]| would have excited surprise on$4$ the part of a vulgar
112:147,06['  ]| world.  And, moreover, if anything beside the sense
112:147,07['  ]| she had already acquired that$3$ Lord*Warburton was
112:147,08['  ]| not a loose thinker had been needed to$9$ convince her,
112:147,09['  ]| the tone in$4$ which$6#1$ he replied would quite have served
112:147,10['  ]| the purpose.
112:147,11[D  ]| "One's  right in$4$ such a matter is not measured by$4$
112:147,12[D  ]| the time, Miss*Archer; it is measured by$4$ the feeling
112:147,13[D  ]| itself.  If I were to$9$ wait three months it would make
112:147,14[D  ]| no$2$ difference; I shall not be more sure of what I 
112:147,15[D  ]| mean than I am to-day.  Of course I have seen you very
112:147,16[D  ]| little, but my impression dates from the very first
112:147,17[D  ]| hour we met.  I lost no$2$ time, I fell in$4$ love with you
112:147,18[D  ]| then.  It was at first sight, as the novels say; I know
112:147,19[D  ]| now that$6#2$ is not a fancy-phrase, and I shall think
112:147,20[D  ]| better of novels for$4$ evermore.  Those two days I spent
112:147,21[D  ]| here settled it; I do not know whether you suspected
112:147,22[D  ]| I was doing so$5#2$, but I paid ~~ mentally speaking I 
112:147,23[D  ]| mean ~~ the greatest possible attention to$4$ you.  Nothing
112:147,24[D  ]| you said, nothing you did, was lost upon$4$ me.
112:147,25[D  ]| When you came to$4$ Lockleigh the other day ~~ or
112:147,26[D  ]| rather when you went away ~~ I was perfectly sure.
112:147,27[D  ]| Nevertheless I made up$5$ my mind to$9$ think it over and
112:147,28[D  ]| to$9$ question myself narrowly.  I have done so$5#2$; all these
112:147,29[D  ]| days I have done nothing else.  I do not make mistakes
112:147,30[D  ]| about such things; I am a very judicious animal.  I 
112:147,31[D  ]| do not go off easily, but when I am touched, it is for$4$ life.
112:147,32[D  ]| It is for$4$ life, Miss*Archer, it is for$4$ life," 
112:147,32['  ]| Lord*Warburton
112:148,01['  ]| repeated in$4$ the kindest, tenderest, pleasantest
112:148,02['  ]| voice Isabel had ever heard, and looking at her with
112:148,03['  ]| eyes charged with the light of a passion that$6#1$ had
112:148,04['  ]| sifted itself clear of the baser parts of emotion ~~ the
112:148,05['  ]| heat, the violence, the unreason ~~ and that$6#2$ burned
112:148,06['  ]| as steadily as a lamp in$4$ a windless place.
112:148,07['  ]| By$4$ tacit consent, as he talked, they had walked
112:148,08['  ]| more and more slowly, and at last they stopped and
112:148,09['  ]| he took her hand.  
112:148,09[A  ]| "Ah, Lord*Warburton, how little
112:148,10[A  ]| you know me!" 
112:148,10['  ]| Isabel said very gently. Gently too
112:148,11['  ]| she drew her hand away.
112:148,12[D  ]| "Do not taunt me with that$6#2$; that$3$ I do not know you
112:148,13[D  ]| better makes me unhappy enough already; it is all
112:148,14[D  ]| my loss.  But that$6#2$ is what I want, and it seems to$4$
112:148,15[D  ]| me I am taking the best way.  If you will$1$ be my wife,
112:148,16[D  ]| then I shall know you, and when I tell you all the 
112:148,17[D  ]| good I think of you you will$1$ not be able to$9$ say it is
112:148,18[D  ]| from ignorance."
112:148,19[A  ]| "If you know me little I know you even less," 
112:148,19['  ]| said
112:148,20['  ]| Isabel.
112:148,21[D  ]| "You mean that$3$, unlike yourself, I may not improve on$4$ 
112:148,22[D  ]| acquaintance?  Ah, of course that$6#2$ is very
112:148,23[D  ]| possible.  But think, to$9$ speak to$4$ you as I do, how
112:148,24[D  ]| determined I must be to$9$ try and give satisfaction!
112:148,25[D  ]| You do like$1$ me rather, do not you?"
112:148,26[A  ]| "I like$1$ you very much, Lord*Warburton," 
112:148,26['  ]| she answered;
112:148,27['  ]| and at this moment she liked him immensely.
112:148,28[D  ]| "I thank you for$4$ saying that$6#2$; it shows you do not
112:148,29[D  ]| regard me as a stranger.  I really believe I have filled
112:148,30[D  ]| all the other relations of life very creditably, and I 
112:148,31[D  ]| do not see why I should not fill this one ~~ in$4$ which$6#1$
112:148,32[D  ]| I offer myself to$4$ you ~~ seeing that$3$ I care so$5#1$ much 
112:149,01[D  ]| more about it.  Ask the people who$6#1$ know me well;
112:149,02[D  ]| I have friends who$6#1$ will$1$ speak for$4$ me."
112:149,03[A  ]| "I do not need the recommendation of your friends,"
112:149,04['  ]| said Isabel.
112:149,05[D  ]| "Ah now, that$6#2$ is delightful of you.  You believe
112:149,06[D  ]| in$4$ me yourself."
112:149,07[A  ]| "Completely," 
112:149,07['  ]| Isabel declared.  She quite glowed
112:149,08['  ]| there, inwardly, with the pleasure of feeling she did.
112:149,09['  ]| The light in$4$ her companion's eyes turned into a 
112:149,10['  ]| smile, and he gave a long exhalation of joy.  
112:149,10[D  ]| "If you are
112:149,11[D  ]| mistaken, Miss*Archer, let me lose all I possess!"
112:149,12['  ]| She wondered whether he meant this for$4$ a reminder
112:149,13['  ]| that$3$ he was rich, and, on$4$ the instant, felt sure
112:149,14['  ]| that$3$ he did not.  
112:149,14@a   | He was sinking that$6#2$, as he would have
112:149,15@a   | said himself; and indeed he might safely leave it to$4$
112:149,16@a   | the memory of any interlocutor, especially of one to$4$
112:149,17@a   | whom he was offering his hand.  
112:149,17['  ]| Isabel had prayed
112:149,18['  ]| that$3$ she might not be agitated, and her mind was
112:149,19['  ]| tranquil enough, even while she listened and asked
112:149,20['  ]| herself 
112:149,20@a   | what it was best she should say, to$9$ indulge in$4$
112:149,21@a   | this incidental criticism.  What she should say, had
112:149,22@a   | she asked herself?  
112:149,22['  ]| Her foremost wish was to$9$ say
112:149,23['  ]| something if possible not less kind than what he had
112:149,24['  ]| said to$4$ her.  
112:149,24@a   | His words had carried perfect conviction
112:149,25@a   | with them; 
112:149,25['  ]| she felt 
112:149,25@a   | she did, all so$5#1$ mysteriously,
112:149,26@a   | matter to$4$ him.  
112:149,26[A  ]| "I thank you more than I can say
112:149,27[A  ]| for$4$ your offer," 
112:149,27['  ]| she returned at last.  
112:149,27[A  ]| "It does me
112:149,28[A  ]| great honour."
112:149,29[D  ]| "Ah, do not say that$6#2$!" 
112:149,29['  ]| he broke out.  
112:149,29[D  ]| "I was afraid
112:149,30[D  ]| you would say something like$4$ that$6#2$.  I do not see what you have
112:149,31[D  ]| to$9$ do with that$6#2$ sort of thing.  I do not see why you
112:149,32[D  ]| should thank me ~~ it is I who$6#1$ ought to$9$ thank you for$4$
112:150,01[D  ]| listening to$4$ me: a man you know so$5#1$ little coming
112:150,02[D  ]| down on$4$ you with such a thumper!  Of course it is
112:150,03[D  ]| a great question; I must tell you that$3$ I would rather ask
112:150,04[D  ]| it than have it to$9$ answer myself.  But the way you have
112:150,05[D  ]| listened ~~ or at least your having listened at all ~~
112:150,06[D  ]| gives me some hope."
112:150,07[A  ]| "Do not hope too much," 
112:150,07['  ]| Isabel said.
112:150,08[D  ]| "Oh Miss*Archer!" 
112:150,08['  ]| her companion murmured,
112:150,09['  ]| smiling again, in$4$ his seriousness, as if such a warning
112:150,10['  ]| might perhaps be taken but as the play of high spirits,
112:150,11['  ]| the exuberance of elation.
112:150,12[A  ]| "Should you be greatly surprised if I were to$9$ beg
112:150,13[A  ]| you not to$9$ hope at all?" 
112:150,13['  ]| Isabel asked.
112:150,14[D  ]| "Surprised? I do not know what you mean by$4$ surprise.
112:150,15[D  ]| It would not be that$6#2$; it would be a feeling very
112:150,16[D  ]| much worse."
112:150,17['  ]| Isabel walked on$5$ again; she was silent for$4$ some
112:150,18['  ]| minutes.  
112:150,18[A  ]| "I am very sure that$3$, highly as I already
112:150,19[A  ]| think of you, my opinion of you, if I should know
112:150,20[A  ]| you well, would only rise.  But I am by$4$ no$2$ means sure
112:150,21[A  ]| that$3$ you would not be disappointed.  And I say that$3$
112:150,22[A  ]| not in$4$ the least out of conventional modesty; it is
112:150,23[A  ]| perfectly sincere."
112:150,24[D  ]| "I am willing to$9$ risk it, Miss*Archer," 
112:150,24['  ]| her companion
112:150,25['  ]| replied.
112:150,26[A  ]| "It is a great question, as you say.  It is a very
112:150,27[A  ]| difficult question."
112:150,28[D  ]| "I do not expect you of course to$9$ answer it outright.
112:150,29[D  ]| Think it over as long as may be necessary.  If I can
112:150,30[D  ]| gain by$4$ waiting I will$1$ gladly wait a long time.  Only
112:150,31[D  ]| remember that$3$ in$4$ the end my dearest happiness depends 
112:150,32[D  ]| on$4$ your answer."
112:151,01[A  ]| "I should be very sorry to$9$ keep you in$4$ suspense,"
112:151,02['  ]| said Isabel.
112:151,03[D  ]| "Oh, do not mind.  I would much rather have a good 
112:151,04[D  ]| answer six months hence than a bad one to-day."
112:151,05[A  ]| "But it is very probable that$3$ even six months hence
112:151,06[A  ]| I should not be able to$9$ give you one that$6#1$ you would think
112:151,07[A  ]| good."
112:151,08[D  ]| "Why not, since you really like$1$ me?"
112:151,09[A  ]| "Ah, you must never doubt that$6#2$," 
112:151,09['  ]| said Isabel.
112:151,10[D  ]| "Well then, I do not see what more you ask!"
112:151,11[A  ]| "It is not what I ask; it is what I can give.  I do not
112:151,12[A  ]| think I should suit you; I really do not think I should."
112:151,13[D  ]| "You need not worry about that$6#2$.  That$6#2$ is my affair.
112:151,14[D  ]| You need not be a better royalist than the king."
112:151,15[A  ]| "It is not only that$6#2$," 
112:151,15['  ]| said Isabel; 
112:151,15[A  ]| "but I am not
112:151,16[A  ]| sure I wish to$9$ marry any*one."
112:151,17[D  ]| "Very likely you do not.  I have no$2$ doubt a great many
112:151,18[D  ]| women begin that$6#2$ way," 
112:151,18['  ]| said his lordship, who$6#1$, be
112:151,19['  ]| it averred, did not in$4$ the least believe in$4$ the axiom
112:151,20['  ]| he thus beguiled his anxiety by$4$ uttering.  
112:151,20[D  ]| "But they are
112:151,21[D  ]| frequently persuaded."
112:151,22[A  ]| "Ah, that$6#2$ is because they want to$9$ be!" 
112:151,22['  ]| And Isabel
112:151,23['  ]| lightly laughed.
112:151,24['  ]| Her suitor's countenance fell, and he looked at her
112:151,25['  ]| for$4$ a while in$4$ silence.  
112:151,25[D  ]| "I am afraid it is my being
112:151,26[D  ]| an Englishman that$6#1$ makes you hesitate," 
112:151,26['  ]| he said
112:151,27['  ]| presently.  
112:151,27[D  ]| "I know your uncle thinks you ought to$9$
112:151,28[D  ]| marry in$4$ your own country."
112:151,29['  ]| Isabel listened to$4$ this assertion with some interest;
112:151,30['  ]| it had never occurred to$4$ her that$3$ Mr%*Touchett was
112:151,31['  ]| likely to$9$ discuss her matrimonial prospects with Lord*Warburton.
112:151,32[A  ]| "Has he told you that$6#2$?"
112:152,01[D  ]| "I remember his making the remark.  He spoke
112:152,02[D  ]| perhaps of Americans generally."
112:152,03[A  ]| "He appears himself to$9$ have found it very pleasant
112:152,04[A  ]| to$9$ live in$4$ England." 
112:152,04['  ]| Isabel spoke in$4$ a manner that$6#1$
112:152,05['  ]| might have seemed a little perverse, but which$6#1$ expressed
112:152,06['  ]| both her constant perception of her uncle's
112:152,07['  ]| outward felicity and her general disposition to$9$ elude
112:152,08['  ]| any obligation to$9$ take a restricted view.
112:152,09['  ]| It gave her companion hope, and he immediately
112:152,10['  ]| cried with warmth: 
112:152,10[D  ]| "Ah, my dear Miss*Archer, old
112:152,11[D  ]| England is a very good sort of country, you know!
112:152,12[D  ]| And it will$1$ be still better when we have furbished it
112:152,13[D  ]| up$5$ a little."
112:152,14[A  ]| "Oh, do not furbish it, Lord*Warburton; leave it 
112:152,15[A  ]| alone.  I like$1$ it this way."
112:152,16[D  ]| "Well then, if you like$1$ it, I am more and more
112:152,17[D  ]| unable to$9$ see your objection to$4$ what I propose."
112:152,18[A  ]| "I am afraid I can not make you understand."
112:152,19[D  ]| "You ought at least to$9$ try.  I have a fair intelligence.
112:152,20[D  ]| Are you afraid ~~ afraid of the climate?  We can
112:152,21[D  ]| easily live elsewhere, you know.  You can pick out 
112:152,22[D  ]| your climate, the whole world over."
112:152,23['  ]| These words were uttered with a breadth of candour
112:152,24['  ]| that$6#1$ was like$4$ the embrace of strong arms ~~ that$6#2$
112:152,25['  ]| was like$4$ the fragrance straight in$4$ her face, and by$4$ his
112:152,26['  ]| clean, breathing lips, of she knew not what strange
112:152,27['  ]| gardens, what charged airs.  She would have given
112:152,28['  ]| her little finger at that$6#2$ moment to$9$ feel strongly and
112:152,29['  ]| simply the impulse to$9$ answer:  
112:152,29[A  ]| "Lord*Warburton,
112:152,30[A  ]| it is impossible for$4$ me to$9$ do better in$4$ this wonderful
112:152,31[A  ]| world, I think, than commit myself, very gratefully,
112:152,32[A  ]| to$4$ your loyalty."  
112:152,32['  ]| But though she was lost in$4$ admiration
112:153,01['  ]| of her opportunity she managed to$9$ move back
112:153,02['  ]| into the deepest shade of it, even as some wild, caught
112:153,03['  ]| creature in$4$ a vast cage.  The "splendid" security so$5#2$
112:153,04['  ]| offered her was \not\ the greatest she could conceive.
112:153,05['  ]| What she finally bethought herself of saying was
112:153,06['  ]| something very different ~~ something that$6#1$ deferred
112:153,07['  ]| the need of really facing her crisis.  
112:153,07[A  ]| "Do not think
112:153,08[A  ]| me unkind if I ask you to$9$ say no$2$ more about this
112:153,09[A  ]| to-day."
112:153,10[D  ]| "Certainly, certainly!" 
112:153,10['  ]| her companion cried.  
112:153,10[D  ]| "I
112:153,11[D  ]| would not bore you for$4$ the world."
112:153,12[A  ]| "You have given me a great deal to$9$ think about, and
112:153,13[A  ]| I promise you to$9$ do it justice."
112:153,14[D  ]| "That$6#2$ is all I ask of you, of course ~~ and that$3$
112:153,15[D  ]| you will$1$ remember how absolutely my happiness is in$4$ 
112:153,16[D  ]| your hands."
112:153,17['  ]| Isabel listened with extreme respect to$4$ this admonition,
112:153,18['  ]| but she said after a minute: 
112:153,18[A  ]| "I must tell you
112:153,19[A  ]| that$3$ what I shall think about is some way of letting
112:153,20[A  ]| you know that$3$ what you ask is impossible ~~ letting
112:153,21[A  ]| you know it without making you miserable."
112:153,22[D  ]| "There is no$2$ way to$9$ do that$6#2$, Miss*Archer.  I will$1$ not
112:153,23[D  ]| say that$3$ if you refuse me you will$1$ kill me; I shall not
112:153,24[D  ]| die of it.  But I shall do worse; I shall live to$4$ no$2$
112:153,25[D  ]| purpose."
112:153,26[A  ]| "You will$1$ live to$9$ marry a better woman than I."
112:153,27[D  ]| "Do not say that$6#2$, please," 
112:153,27['  ]| said Lord*Warburton
112:153,28['  ]| very gravely.  
112:153,28[D  ]| "That$6#2$ is fair to$4$ neither of us."
112:153,29[A  ]| "To$9$ marry a worse one then."
112:153,30[D  ]| "If there are better women than you I prefer the
112:153,31[D  ]| bad ones.  That$6#2$ is all I can say," 
112:153,31['  ]| he went on$5$ with the
112:153,32['  ]| same earnestness.  
112:153,32[A  ]| "There is no$2$ accounting for$4$ tastes."
112:154,01['  ]| His gravity made her feel equally grave, and she
112:154,02['  ]| showed it by$4$ again requesting him to$9$ drop the subject
112:154,03['  ]| for$4$ the present.  
112:154,03[A  ]| "I will$1$ speak to$4$ you myself ~~
112:154,04[A  ]| very soon.  Perhaps I shall write to$4$ you."
112:154,05[D  ]| "At your convenience, yes," 
112:154,05['  ]| he replied.  
112:154,05[D  ]| "Whatever
112:154,06[D  ]| time you take, it must seem to$4$ me long, and I 
112:154,07[D  ]| suppose I must make the best of that$6#2$."
112:154,08[A  ]| "I shall not keep you in$4$ suspense; I only want to$9$
112:154,09[A  ]| collect my mind a little."
112:154,10['  ]| He gave a melancholy sigh and stood looking at
112:154,11['  ]| her a moment, with his hands behind him, giving
112:154,12['  ]| short nervous shakes to$4$ his hunting-crop.  
112:154,12[D  ]| "Do you
112:154,13[D  ]| know I am very much afraid of it ~~ of that$6#2$ remarkable
112:154,14[D  ]| mind of yours?"
112:154,15['  ]| Our heroine's biographer can scarcely tell why, but
112:154,16['  ]| the question made her start and brought a conscious
112:154,17['  ]| blush to$4$ her cheek.  She returned his look a moment,
112:154,18['  ]| and then with a note in$4$ her voice that$6#1$ might almost
112:154,19['  ]| have appealed to$4$ his compassion, 
112:154,19[A  ]| "So$5#2$ am I, my
112:154,20[A  ]| lord!" 
112:154,20['  ]| she oddly exclaimed.
112:154,21['  ]| His compassion was not stirred, however; all he
112:154,22['  ]| possessed of the faculty of pity was needed at home.
112:154,23[D  ]| "Ah!  be merciful, be merciful," 
112:154,23['  ]| he murmured.
112:154,24[A  ]| "I think you had better go," 
112:154,24['  ]| said Isabel.  
112:154,24[A  ]| "I will$1$
112:154,25[A  ]| write to$4$ you."
112:154,26[D  ]| "Very good; but whatever you write I will$1$ come and
112:154,27[D  ]| see you, you know."  
112:154,27['  ]| And then he stood reflecting, his
112:154,28['  ]| eyes fixed on$4$ the observant countenance of Bunchie,
112:154,29['  ]| who$6#1$ had the air of having understood all that$6#1$ had
112:154,30['  ]| been said and of pretending to$9$ carry off the indiscretion
112:154,31['  ]| by$4$ a simulated fit of curiosity as to$4$ the roots
112:154,32['  ]| of an ancient oak.  
112:154,32[D  ]| "There is one thing more," 
112:154,32['  ]| he
112:155,01['  ]| went on$5$.  
112:155,01[D  ]| "You know, if you do not like$1$ Lockleigh ~~
112:155,02[D  ]| if you think it is damp or anything of that$6#2$ sort ~~ you
112:155,03[D  ]| need never go within fifty miles of it.  It is not damp,
112:155,04[D  ]| by$4$ the way; I have had the house thoroughly examined;
112:155,05[D  ]| it is perfectly safe and right.  But if you should not
112:155,06[D  ]| fancy it you need not dream of living in$4$ it.  There is
112:155,07[D  ]| no$2$ difficulty whatever about that$6#2$; there are plenty of
112:155,08[D  ]| houses.  I thought I would just mention it; some people
112:155,09[D  ]| do not like$1$ a moat, you know.  Good-bye."
112:155,10[A  ]| "I adore a moat," 
112:155,10['  ]| said Isabel.  
112:155,10[A  ]| "Good-bye."
112:155,11['  ]| He held out his hand, and she gave him hers a moment
112:155,12['  ]| ~~ a moment long enough for$4$ him to$9$ bend his
112:155,13['  ]| handsome bared head and kiss it.  Then, still agitating,
112:155,14['  ]| in$4$ his mastered emotion, his implement of the chase,
112:155,15['  ]| he walked rapidly away.  He was evidently much
112:155,16['  ]| upset.
112:155,17['  ]| Isabel herself was upset, but she had not been 
112:155,18['  ]| affected as she would have imagined.  What she felt
112:155,19['  ]| was not a great responsibility, a great difficulty of
112:155,20['  ]| choice; it appeared to$4$ her 
112:155,20@a   | there had been no$2$ choice
112:155,21@a   | in$4$ the question.  She could not marry Lord*Warburton;
112:155,22@a   | the idea failed to$9$ support any enlightened prejudice
112:155,23@a   | in$4$ favour of the free exploration of life that$6#1$ she
112:155,24@a   | had hitherto entertained or was now capable of entertaining.
112:155,25@a   | She must write this to$4$ him, she must convince 
112:155,26@a   | him, and that$6#2$ duty was comparatively simple.
112:155,27['  ]| But what disturbed her, in$4$ the sense that$3$ it struck her
112:155,28['  ]| with wonderment, was this very fact that$3$ it cost her so$5#1$
112:155,29['  ]| little to$9$ refuse a magnificent "chance."  
112:155,29@a   | With whatever
112:155,30@a   | qualifications one would, Lord*Warburton had
112:155,31@a   | offered her a great opportunity; the situation might
112:155,32@a   | have discomforts, might contain oppressive, might
112:156,01@a   | contain narrowing elements, might prove really but
112:156,02@a   | a stupefying anodyne; 
112:156,02['  ]| but she did her sex no$2$ injustice
112:156,03['  ]| in$4$ believing that$3$ 
112:156,03@a   | nineteen women out of twenty would 
112:156,04@a   | have accommodated themselves to$4$ it without a pang.
112:156,05@a   | Why then upon$4$ her also should it not irresistibly
112:156,06@a   | impose itself?  Who$6#2$ was she, what was she, that$3$ she
112:156,07@a   | should hold herself superior?  What view of life, what
112:156,08@a   | design upon$4$ fate, what conception of happiness, had 
112:156,09@a   | she that$6#1$ pretended to$9$ be larger than these large,
112:156,10@a   | these fabulous occasions?  If she would not do such
112:156,11@a   | a thing as that$6#2$ then she must do great things, she
112:156,12@a   | must do something greater.  
112:156,12['  ]| Poor Isabel found ground
112:156,13['  ]| to$9$ remind herself from time to$4$ time that$3$ she must not
112:156,14['  ]| be too proud, and nothing could be more sincere than
112:156,15['  ]| her prayer to$9$ be delivered from such a danger: the
112:156,16['  ]| isolation and loneliness of pride had for$4$ her mind
112:156,17['  ]| the horror of a desert place.  If it had been pride that$6#1$
112:156,18['  ]| interfered with her accepting Lord*Warburton such
112:156,19['  ]| a \be^tise\ was singularly misplaced; and she was so$5#1$
112:156,20['  ]| conscious of liking him that$3$ she ventured to$9$ assure herself
112:156,21['  ]| it was the very softness, and the fine intelligence,
112:156,22['  ]| of sympathy.  She liked him too much to$9$ marry him,
112:156,23['  ]| that$6#2$ was the truth; something assured her there was
112:156,24['  ]| a fallacy somewhere in$4$ the glowing logic of the proposition
112:156,25['  ]| ~~ as \he\ saw it ~~ even though she might not
112:156,26['  ]| put her very finest finger-point on$4$ it; and to$9$ inflict
112:156,27['  ]| upon$4$ a man who$6#1$ offered so$5#1$ much a wife with a tendency
112:156,28['  ]| to$9$ criticise would be a peculiarly discreditable
112:156,29['  ]| act.  She had promised him she would consider his
112:156,30['  ]| question, and when, after he had left her, she wandered
112:156,31['  ]| back to$4$ the bench where he had found her and
112:156,32['  ]| lost herself in$4$ meditation, it might have seemed that$3$ 
112:157,01['  ]| she was keeping her vow.  But this was not the case;
112:157,02['  ]| she was wondering if she were not a cold, hard, priggish
112:157,03['  ]| person, and, on$4$ her at last getting up$5$ and going
112:157,04['  ]| rather quickly back to$4$ the house, felt, as she had said
112:157,05['  ]| to$4$ her friend, really frightened at herself.
113:158,01['  ]| It was this feeling and not the wish to$9$ ask advice ~~ 
113:158,02['  ]| she had no$2$ desire whatever for$4$ that$6#2$ ~~ that$6#1$ led her to$9$
113:158,03['  ]| speak to$4$ her uncle of what had taken place.  She
113:158,04['  ]| wished to$9$ speak to$4$ some*one; she should feel more
113:158,05['  ]| natural, more human, and her uncle, for$4$ this purpose,
113:158,06['  ]| presented himself in$4$ a more attractive light than either
113:158,07['  ]| her aunt or her friend Henrietta.  Her cousin of course
113:158,08['  ]| was a possible confidant; but she would have had to$9$ 
113:158,09['  ]| do herself violence to$9$ air this special secret to$4$ Ralph.
113:158,10['  ]| So$3$ the next day, after breakfast, she sought her occasion.
113:158,11['  ]| Her uncle never left his apartment till the afternoon,
113:158,12['  ]| but he received his cronies, as he said, in$4$ his  
113:158,13['  ]| dressing-room.  Isabel had quite taken her place in$4$
113:158,14['  ]| the class so$5#2$ designated, which$6#1$, for$4$ the rest, included
113:158,15['  ]| the old man's son, his physician, his personal servant,
113:158,16['  ]| and even Miss*Stackpole.  Mrs*Touchett did not
113:158,17['  ]| figure in$4$ the list, and this was an obstacle the less to$4$
113:158,18['  ]| Isabel's finding her host alone.  He sat in$4$ a complicated
113:158,19['  ]| mechanical chair, at the open window of his
113:158,20['  ]| room, looking westward over the park and the river,
113:158,21['  ]| with his newspapers and letters piled up$5$ beside him,
113:158,22['  ]| his toilet freshly and minutely made, and his smooth,
113:158,23['  ]| speculative face composed to$4$ benevolent expectation.
113:158,24['  ]| She approached her point directly.  
113:158,24[A  ]| "I think I ought
113:158,25[A  ]| to$9$ let you know that$3$ Lord*Warburton has asked me
113:158,26[A  ]| to$9$ marry him.  I suppose I ought to$9$ tell my aunt; but
113:158,27[A  ]| it seems best to$9$ tell you first."
113:159,01['  ]| The old man expressed no$2$ surprise, but thanked
113:159,02['  ]| her for$4$ the confidence she showed him.  
113:159,02[F  ]| "Do you
113:159,03[F  ]| mind telling me whether you accepted him?" 
113:159,03['  ]| he
113:159,04['  ]| then enquired.
113:159,05[A  ]| "I have not answered him definitely yet; I have taken
113:159,06[A  ]| a little time to$9$ think of it, because that$6#2$ seems more
113:159,07[A  ]| respectful.  But I shall not accept him."
113:159,08['  ]| Mr%*Touchett made no$2$ comment upon$4$ this; he had
113:159,09['  ]| the air of thinking that$3$, whatever interest he might
113:159,10['  ]| take in$4$ the matter from the point of view of sociability,
113:159,11['  ]| he had no$2$ active voice in$4$ it.  
113:159,11[F  ]| "Well, I told you
113:159,12[F  ]| you would be a success over here.  Americans are highly
113:159,13[F  ]| appreciated."
113:159,14[A  ]| "Very highly indeed," 
113:159,14['  ]| said Isabel.  
113:159,14[A  ]| "But at the
113:159,15[A  ]| cost of seeming both tasteless and ungrateful, I do not
113:159,16[A  ]| think I can marry Lord*Warburton."
113:159,17[F  ]| "Well," 
113:159,17['  ]| her uncle went on$5$, 
113:159,17[F  ]| "of course an old man
113:159,18[F  ]| can not judge for$4$ a young lady.  I am glad you did not ask
113:159,19[F  ]| me before you made up$5$ your mind.  I suppose I ought
113:159,20[F  ]| to$9$ tell you," 
113:159,20['  ]| he added slowly, but as if it were not of
113:159,21['  ]| much consequence, 
113:159,21[F  ]| "that$3$ I have known all about it
113:159,22[F  ]| these three days."
113:159,23[A  ]| "About Lord*Warburton's state of mind?"
113:159,24[F  ]| "About his intentions, as they say here.  He wrote
113:159,25[F  ]| me a very pleasant letter, telling me all about them.
113:159,26[F  ]| Should you like$1$ to$9$ see his letter?" 
113:159,26['  ]| the old man
113:159,27['  ]| obligingly asked.
113:159,28[A  ]| "Thank you; I do not think I care about that$6#2$.  But
113:159,29[A  ]| I am glad he wrote to$4$ you; it was right that$3$ he should,
113:159,30[A  ]| and he would be certain to$9$ do what was right."
113:159,31[F  ]| "Ah well, I guess you do like$1$ him!" 
113:159,31['  ]| Mr%*Touchett
113:159,32['  ]| declared.  
113:159,32[F  ]| "You need not pretend you do not."
113:160,01[A  ]| "I like$1$ him extremely; I am very free to$9$ admit
113:160,02[A  ]| that$6#2$.  But I do not wish to$9$ marry any*one just now."
113:160,03[F  ]| "You think some*one may come along whom you
113:160,04[F  ]| may like$1$ better.  Well, that$6#2$ is very likely," 
113:160,04['  ]| said Mr%*Touchett,
113:160,05['  ]| who$6#1$ appeared to$9$ wish to$9$ show his kindness
113:160,06['  ]| to$4$ the girl by$4$ easing off her decision, as it were, and
113:160,07['  ]| finding cheerful reasons for$4$ it.
113:160,08[A  ]| "I do not care if I do not meet any*one else.  I like$1$
113:160,09[A  ]| Lord*Warburton quite well enough."  
113:160,09['  ]| She fell into 
113:160,10['  ]| that$6#2$ appearance of a sudden change of point of view
113:160,11['  ]| with which$6#1$ she sometimes startled and even displeased
113:160,12['  ]| her interlocutors.
113:160,13['  ]| Her uncle, however, seemed proof against either
113:160,14['  ]| of these impressions.  
113:160,14[F  ]| "He is a very fine man," 
113:160,14['  ]| he
113:160,15['  ]| resumed in$4$ a tone which$6#1$ might have passed for$4$ that$6#2$
113:160,16['  ]| of encouragement.  
113:160,16[F  ]| "His letter was one of the pleasantest
113:160,17[F  ]| I have received for$4$ some weeks.  I suppose one
113:160,18[F  ]| of the reasons I liked it was that$3$ it was all about you;
113:160,19[F  ]| that$3$ is all except the part that$6#1$ was about himself.
113:160,20[F  ]| I suppose he told you all that$6#2$."
113:160,21[A  ]| "He would have told me everything I wished to$9$
113:160,22[A  ]| ask him," 
113:160,22['  ]| Isabel said.
113:160,23[F  ]| "But you did not feel curious?"
113:160,24[A  ]| "My curiosity would have been idle ~~ once I had
113:160,25[A  ]| determined to$9$ decline his offer."
113:160,26[F  ]| "You did not find it sufficiently attractive?" 
113:160,26['  ]| Mr%*Touchett
113:160,27['  ]| enquired.
113:160,28['  ]| She was silent a little.  
113:160,28[A  ]| "I suppose it was that$6#2$,"
113:160,29['  ]| she presently admitted.  
113:160,29[A  ]| "But I do not know why."
113:160,30[F  ]| "Fortunately ladies are not obliged to$9$ give reasons,"
113:160,31['  ]| said her uncle.  
113:160,31[F  ]| "There is a great deal that$6#1$ is attractive
113:160,32[F  ]| about such an idea; but I do not see why the 
113:161,01[F  ]| English should want to$9$ entice us away from our
113:161,02[F  ]| native land.  I know that$3$ we try to$9$ attract them over
113:161,03[F  ]| there, but that$6#2$ is because our population is insufficient.
113:161,04[F  ]| Here, you know, they are rather crowded.
113:161,05[F  ]| However, I presume there is room for$4$ charming
113:161,06[F  ]| young ladies everywhere."
113:161,07[A  ]| "There seems to$9$ have been room here for$4$ you,"
113:161,08['  ]| said Isabel, whose eyes had been wandering over the 
113:161,09['  ]| large pleasure-spaces of the park.
113:161,10['  ]| Mr%*Touchett gave a shrewd, conscious smile.
113:161,11[F  ]| "There is room everywhere, my dear, if you will$1$ pay
113:161,12[F  ]| for$4$ it.  I sometimes think I have paid too much for$4$
113:161,13[F  ]| this.  Perhaps you also might have to$9$ pay too much."
113:161,14[A  ]| "Perhaps I might," 
113:161,14['  ]| the girl replied.
113:161,15['  ]| That$6#2$ suggestion gave her something more definite
113:161,16['  ]| to$9$ rest on$5$ than she had found in$4$ her own thoughts,
113:161,17['  ]| and the fact of this association of her uncle's mild
113:161,18['  ]| acuteness with her dilemma seemed to$9$ prove that$3$
113:161,19['  ]| she was concerned with the natural and reasonable
113:161,20['  ]| emotions of life and not altogether a victim to$4$ intellectual
113:161,21['  ]| eagerness and vague ambitions ~~ ambitions
113:161,22['  ]| reaching beyond Lord*Warburton's beautiful appeal,
113:161,23['  ]| reaching to$4$ something indefinable and possibly not
113:161,24['  ]| commendable.  In$4$ so$5#1$ far as the indefinable had an
113:161,25['  ]| influence upon$4$ Isabel's behaviour at this juncture,
113:161,26['  ]| it was not the conception, even unformulated, of a 
113:161,27['  ]| union with Caspar*Goodwood; for$3$ however she
113:161,28['  ]| might have resisted conquest at her English suitor's
113:161,29['  ]| large quiet hands she was at least as far removed
113:161,30['  ]| from the disposition to$9$ let the young man from Boston
113:161,31['  ]| take positive possession of her.  The sentiment in$4$
113:161,32['  ]| which$6#1$ she sought refuge after reading his letter was
113:162,01['  ]| a critical view of his having come abroad; for$3$ it was
113:162,02['  ]| part of the influence he had upon$4$ her that$3$ he seemed
113:162,03['  ]| to$9$ deprive her of the sense of freedom.  There was
113:162,04['  ]| a disagreeably strong push, a kind of hardness of presence,
113:162,05['  ]| in$4$ his way of rising before her.  She had been
113:162,06['  ]| haunted at moments by$4$ the image, by$4$ the danger, of
113:162,07['  ]| his disapproval and had wondered ~~ a consideration
113:162,08['  ]| she had never paid in$4$ equal degree to$4$ any*one
113:162,09['  ]| else ~~ whether he would like$1$ what she did.  The
113:162,10['  ]| difficulty was that$3$ more than any man she had ever
113:162,11['  ]| known, more than poor Lord*Warburton (she had
113:162,12['  ]| begun now to$9$ give his lordship the benefit of this
113:162,13['  ]| epithet), Caspar*Goodwood expressed for$4$ her an
113:162,14['  ]| energy ~~ and she had already felt it as a power ~~
113:162,15['  ]| that$6#1$ was of his very nature.  It was in$4$ no$2$ degree a
113:162,16['  ]| matter of his "advantages" ~~ it was a matter of the
113:162,17['  ]| spirit that$6#1$ sat in$4$ his clear-burning eyes like$4$ some
113:162,18['  ]| tireless watcher at a window.  She might like$1$ it or
113:162,19['  ]| not, but he insisted, ever, with his whole weight and
113:162,20['  ]| force: even in$4$ one's usual contact with him one had
113:162,21['  ]| to$9$ reckon with that$6#2$.  The idea of a diminished liberty
113:162,22['  ]| was particularly disagreeable to$4$ her at present, since
113:162,23['  ]| she had just given a sort of personal accent to$4$ her
113:162,24['  ]| independence by$4$ looking so$5#1$ straight at Lord*Warburton's
113:162,25['  ]| big bribe and yet turning away from it.
113:162,26['  ]| Sometimes Caspar*Goodwood had seemed to$9$ range
113:162,27['  ]| himself on$4$ the side of her destiny, to$9$ be the stubbornest
113:162,28['  ]| fact she knew; she said to$4$ herself at such
113:162,29['  ]| moments that$3$ 
113:162,29@a   | she might evade him for$4$ a time, but
113:162,30@a   | that$3$ she must make terms with him at last ~~ terms
113:162,31@a   | which$6#1$ would be certain to$9$ be favourable to$4$ himself.
113:162,32['  ]| Her impulse had been to$9$ avail herself of the things
113:163,01['  ]| that$6#1$ helped her to$9$ resist such an obligation; and this
113:163,02['  ]| impulse had been much concerned in$4$ her eager acceptance 
113:163,03['  ]| of her aunt's invitation, which$6#1$ had come to$4$
113:163,04['  ]| her at an hour when she expected from day to$4$ day
113:163,05['  ]| to$9$ see Mr%*Goodwood and when she was glad to$9$ have
113:163,06['  ]| an answer ready for$4$ something she was sure he would
113:163,07['  ]| say to$4$ her.  When she had told him at Albany, on$4$
113:163,08['  ]| the evening of Mrs%*Touchett's visit, that$3$ 
113:163,08@a   | she could not
113:163,09@a   | then discuss difficult questions, dazzled as she was
113:163,10@a   | by$4$ the great immediate opening of her aunt's offer of
113:163,11@a   | "Europe," 
113:163,11['  ]| he declared that$3$ 
113:163,11@e   | this was no$2$ answer at
113:163,12@e   | all; 
113:163,12@a   | and it was now to$9$ obtain a better one that$3$ he
113:163,13@a   | was following her across the sea.  
113:163,13['  ]| To$9$ say to$4$ herself
113:163,14['  ]| that$3$ 
113:163,14@a   | he was a kind of grim fate 
113:163,14['  ]| was well enough for$4$
113:163,15['  ]| a fanciful young woman who$6#1$ was able to$9$ take much
113:163,16['  ]| for$4$ granted in$4$ him; but the reader has a right to$4$ a
113:163,17['  ]| nearer and a clearer view.
113:163,18['  ]| He was the son of a proprietor of well-known cotton-mills
113:163,19['  ]| in$4$ Massachusetts ~~ a gentleman who$6#1$ had
113:163,20['  ]| accumulated a considerable fortune in$4$ the exercise
113:163,21['  ]| of this industry.  Caspar at present managed the
113:163,22['  ]| works, and with a judgement and a temper which$6#1$, in$4$
113:163,23['  ]| spite of keen competition and languid years, had kept
113:163,24['  ]| their prosperity from dwindling.  He had received the
113:163,25['  ]| better part of his education at Harvard* College,
113:163,26['  ]| where, however, he had gained renown rather as a 
113:163,27['  ]| gymnast and an oarsman than as a gleaner of more
113:163,28['  ]| dispersed knowledge.  Later on$5$ he had learned that$3$
113:163,29['  ]| the finer intelligence too could vault and pull and 
113:163,30['  ]| strain ~~ might even, breaking the record, treat itself
113:163,31['  ]| to$4$ rare exploits.  He had thus discovered in$4$ himself
113:163,32['  ]| a sharp eye for$4$ the mystery of mechanics, and had
113:164,01['  ]| invented an improvement in$4$ the cotton-spinning
113:164,02['  ]| process which$6#1$ was now largely used and was known
113:164,03['  ]| by$4$ his name.  You might have seen it in$4$ the newspapers
113:164,04['  ]| in$4$ connection with this fruitful contrivance;
113:164,05['  ]| assurance of which$6#1$ he had given to$4$ Isabel by$4$ showing
113:164,06['  ]| her in$4$ the columns of the New*York \Interviewer\ an
113:164,07['  ]| exhaustive article on$4$ the Goodwood patent ~~ an article
113:164,08['  ]| not prepared by$4$ Miss*Stackpole, friendly as she
113:164,09['  ]| had proved herself to$4$ his more sentimental interests.
113:164,10['  ]| There were intricate, bristling things he rejoiced in$4$;
113:164,11['  ]| he liked to$9$ organise, to$9$ contend, to$9$ administer; he
113:164,12['  ]| could make people work his will$0$, believe in$4$ him,
113:164,13['  ]| march before him and justify him.  
113:164,13@x   | This was the art,
113:164,14['  ]| as they said, 
113:164,14@x   | of managing men ~~ 
113:164,14['  ]| which$6#1$ rested, in$4$
113:164,15['  ]| him, further, on$4$ a bold though brooding ambition.
113:164,16['  ]| It struck those who$6#1$ knew him well that$3$ he might do
113:164,17['  ]| greater things than carry on$5$ a cotton-factory; there
113:164,18['  ]| was nothing cottony about Caspar*Goodwood, and
113:164,19['  ]| his friends took for$4$ granted that$3$ he would somehow
113:164,20['  ]| and somewhere write himself in$4$ bigger letters.  But
113:164,21['  ]| it was as if something large and confused, something
113:164,22['  ]| dark and ugly, would have to$9$ call upon$4$ him: he was
113:164,23['  ]| not after all in$4$ harmony with mere smug peace and
113:164,24['  ]| greed and gain, an order of things of which$6#1$ the vital
113:164,25['  ]| breath was ubiquitous advertisement.  It pleased
113:164,26['  ]| Isabel to$9$ believe that$3$ 
113:164,26@a   | he might have ridden, on$4$ a 
113:164,27@a   | plunging steed, the whirlwind of a great war ~~ 
113:164,27['  ]| a war
113:164,28['  ]| like$4$ the Civil strife that$6#1$ had overdarkened her conscious 
113:164,29['  ]| childhood and his ripening youth.
113:164,30['  ]| She liked at any rate this idea of his being by$4$ character
113:164,31['  ]| and in$4$ fact a mover of men ~~ liked it much
113:164,32['  ]| better than some other points in$4$ his nature and aspect.
113:165,01['  ]| She cared nothing for$4$ his cotton-mill ~~ the
113:165,02['  ]| Goodwood patent left her imagination absolutely cold.
113:165,03['  ]| She wished him no$2$ ounce less of his manhood, but she
113:165,04['  ]| sometimes thought 
113:165,04@a   | he would be rather nicer if he
113:165,05@a   | looked, for$4$ instance, a little differently.  His jaw was
113:165,06@a   | too square and set and his figure too straight and
113:165,07@a   | stiff: 
113:165,07['  ]| these things suggested a want of easy consonance
113:165,08['  ]| with the deeper rhythms of life.  Then she viewed
113:165,09['  ]| with reserve a habit he had of dressing always in$4$ the 
113:165,10['  ]| same manner; 
113:165,10@a   | it was not apparently that$3$ he wore
113:165,11@a   | the same clothes continually, for$3$, on$4$ the contrary, his
113:165,12@a   | garments had a way of looking rather too new.  But
113:165,13@a   | they all seemed of the same piece; the figure, the
113:165,14@a   | stuff, was so$5#1$ drearily usual.  
113:165,14['  ]| She had reminded herself
113:165,15['  ]| more than once that$3$ 
113:165,15@a   | this was a frivolous objection
113:165,16@a   | to$4$ a person of his importance; 
113:165,16['  ]| and then she had
113:165,17['  ]| amended the rebuke by$4$ saying that$3$ 
113:165,17@a   | it would be a frivolous
113:165,18@a   | objection only if she were in$4$ love with him.  She
113:165,19@a   | was not in$4$ love with him and therefore might criticise
113:165,20@a   | his small defects as well as his great ~~ 
113:165,20['  ]| which$6#1$ latter
113:165,21['  ]| consisted in$4$ the collective reproach of 
113:165,21@a   | his being too
113:165,22@a   | serious, or, rather, not of his being so$5#2$, since one could
113:165,23@a   | never be, but certainly of his seeming so$5#2$.  He showed
113:165,24@a   | his appetites and designs too simply and artlessly; when
113:165,25@a   | one was alone with him he talked too much about the
113:165,26@a   | same subject, and when other people were present he
113:165,27@a   | talked too little about anything.  And yet he was of
113:165,28@a   | supremely strong, clean make ~~ which$6#1$ was so$5#1$ much:
113:165,29['  ]| she saw the different fitted parts of him as she had
113:165,30['  ]| seen, in$4$ museums and portraits, the different fitted
113:165,31['  ]| parts of armoured warriors ~~ in$4$ plates of steel handsomely
113:165,32['  ]| inlaid with gold.  It was very strange: where,
113:166,01['  ]| ever, was any tangible link between her impression
113:166,02['  ]| and her act?  Caspar*Goodwood had never corresponded
113:166,03['  ]| to$4$ her idea of a delightful person, and she
113:166,04['  ]| supposed that$3$ 
113:166,04@a   | this was why he left her so$5#1$ harshly
113:166,05@a   | critical.  
113:166,05['  ]| When, however, Lord*Warburton, who$6#1$ not
113:166,06['  ]| only did correspond with it, but gave an extension to$4$
113:166,07['  ]| the term, appealed to$4$ her approval, she found herself
113:166,08['  ]| still unsatisfied.  
113:166,08@a   | It was certainly strange.
113:166,09['  ]| The sense of her incoherence was not a help to$4$
113:166,10['  ]| answering Mr*Goodwood's letter, and Isabel determined 
113:166,11['  ]| to$9$ leave it a while unhonoured.  
113:166,11@a   | If he had determined
113:166,12@a   | to$9$ persecute her he must take the consequences;
113:166,13@a   | foremost among which$6#1$ was his being left to$9$
113:166,14@a   | perceive how little it charmed her that$3$ he should come
113:166,15@a   | down to$4$ Gardencourt.  She was already liable to$4$ the
113:166,16@a   | incursions of one suitor at this place, and though it
113:166,17@a   | might be pleasant to$9$ be appreciated in$4$ opposite quarters 
113:166,18@a   | there was a kind of grossness in$4$ entertaining two
113:166,19@a   | such passionate pleaders at once, even in$4$ a case where
113:166,20@a   | the entertainment should consist of dismissing them.
113:166,21['  ]| She made no$2$ reply to$4$ Mr%*Goodwood; but at the end
113:166,22['  ]| of three days she wrote to$4$ Lord*Warburton, and the
113:166,23['  ]| letter belongs to$4$ our history.
113:166,24['  ]| 
113:166,25[A  ]| Dear Lord*Warburton ~~ A great deal of earnest
113:166,26[A  ]| thought has not led me to$9$ change my mind about
113:166,27[A  ]| the suggestion you were so$5#1$ kind as to$9$ make me the
113:166,28[A  ]| other day.  I am not, I am really and truly not, able
113:166,29[A  ]| to$9$ regard you in$4$ the light of a companion for$4$ life; or
113:166,30[A  ]| to$9$ think of your home ~~ your various homes ~~ as
113:166,31[A  ]| the settled seat of my existence.  These things cannot
113:166,32[A  ]| be reasoned about, and I very earnestly entreat you
113:167,01[A  ]| not to$9$ return to$4$ the subject we discussed so$5#1$ exhaustively.
113:167,02[A  ]| We see our lives from our own point of view;
113:167,03[A  ]| that$6#2$ is the privilege of the weakest and humblest of
113:167,04[A  ]| us; and I shall never be able to$9$ see mine in$4$ the manner
113:167,05[A  ]| you proposed.  Kindly let this suffice you, and do
113:167,06[A  ]| me the justice to$9$ believe that$3$ I have given your proposal
113:167,07[A  ]| the deeply respectful consideration it deserves.
113:167,08[A  ]| It is with this very great regard that$3$ I remain sincerely
113:167,09[A  ]| yours,
113:167,10[A  ]|                                           ISABEL*ARCHER.
113:167,11[A  ]| 
113:167,12['  ]| While the author of this missive was making up$5$
113:167,13['  ]| her mind to$9$ despatch it Henrietta*Stackpole formed
113:167,14['  ]| a resolve which$6#1$ was accompanied by$4$ no$2$ demur.  She
113:167,15['  ]| invited Ralph*Touchett to$9$ take a walk with her in$4$
113:167,16['  ]| the garden, and when he had assented with that$6#2$ alacrity
113:167,17['  ]| which$6#1$ seemed constantly to$9$ testify to$4$ his high
113:167,18['  ]| expectations, she informed him that$3$ 
113:167,18@i   | she had a favour
113:167,19@i   | to$9$ ask of him.  
113:167,19['  ]| It may be admitted that$3$ at this 
113:167,20['  ]| information the young man flinched; for$3$ we know
113:167,21['  ]| that$3$ Miss*Stackpole had struck him as apt to$9$ push
113:167,22['  ]| an advantage.  The alarm was unreasoned, however;
113:167,23['  ]| for$3$ he was clear about the area of her indiscretion as
113:167,24['  ]| little as advised of its vertical depth, and he made
113:167,25['  ]| a very civil profession of the desire to$9$ serve her.  He
113:167,26['  ]| was afraid of her and presently told her so$5#2$.  
113:167,26[B  ]| "When
113:167,27[B  ]| you look at me in$4$ a certain way my knees knock
113:167,28[B  ]| together, my faculties desert me; I am filled with
113:167,29[B  ]| trepidation and I ask only for$4$ strength to$9$ execute
113:167,30[B  ]| your commands.  You have an address that$6#1$ I have never
113:167,31[B  ]| encountered in$4$ any woman."
113:167,32[I  ]| "Well," 
113:167,32['  ]| Henrietta replied good-humouredly, 
113:167,32[I  ]| "if I 
113:168,01[I  ]| had not known before that$3$ you were trying somehow
113:168,02[I  ]| to$9$ abash me I should know it now.  Of course I am
113:168,03[I  ]| easy game ~~ I was brought up$5$ with such different
113:168,04[I  ]| customs and ideas.  I am not used to$4$ your arbitrary
113:168,05[I  ]| standards, and I have never been spoken to$4$ in$4$ America
113:168,06[I  ]| as you have spoken to$4$ me.  If a gentleman conversing
113:168,07[I  ]| with me over there were to$9$ speak to$4$ me like$4$ that$6#2$ I 
113:168,08[I  ]| should not know what to$9$ make of it.  We take everything
113:168,09[I  ]| more naturally over there, and, after all, we are a
113:168,10[I  ]| great deal more simple.  I admit that$6#2$; I am very simple
113:168,11[I  ]| myself.  Of course if you choose to$9$ laugh at me for$4$ it
113:168,12[I  ]| you are very welcome; but I think on$4$ the whole I
113:168,13[I  ]| would rather be myself than you.  I am quite content
113:168,14[I  ]| to$9$ be myself; I do not want to$9$ change.  There are
113:168,15[I  ]| plenty of people that$6#1$ appreciate me just as I am.  It is
113:168,16[I  ]| true they are nice fresh free-born Americans!"  
113:168,16['  ]| Henrietta
113:168,17['  ]| had lately taken up$5$ the tone of helpless innocence 
113:168,18['  ]| and large concession.  
113:168,18[I  ]| "I want you to$9$ assist me
113:168,19[I  ]| a little," 
113:168,19['  ]| she went on$5$.  
113:168,19[I  ]| "I do not care in$4$ the least whether
113:168,20[I  ]| I amuse you while you do so$5#2$; or, rather, I am perfectly
113:168,21[I  ]| willing your amusement should be your reward.
113:168,22[I  ]| I want you to$9$ help me about Isabel."
113:168,23[B  ]| "Has she injured you?" 
113:168,23['  ]| Ralph asked.
113:168,24[I  ]| "If she had I should not mind, and I should never
113:168,25[I  ]| tell you.  What I am afraid of is that$3$ she will$1$ injure herself."
113:168,26[I  ]| 
113:168,27[B  ]| "I think that$6#2$ is very possible," 
113:168,27['  ]| said Ralph.
113:168,28['  ]| His companion stopped in$4$ the garden-walk, fixing
113:168,29['  ]| on$4$ him perhaps the very gaze that$6#1$ unnerved him.
113:168,30[I  ]| "That$6#2$ too would amuse you, I suppose.  The way
113:168,31[I  ]| you do say things!  I never heard any*one so$5#1$ indifferent."
113:168,32[I  ]| 
113:169,01[B  ]| "To$4$ Isabel?  Ah, not that$6#2$!"
113:169,02[I  ]| "Well, you are not in$4$ love with her, I hope."
113:169,03[B  ]| "How can that$6#2$ be, when I am in$4$ love with Another?"
113:169,04[B  ]| 
113:169,05[I  ]| "You are in$4$ love with yourself, that$6#2$ is the Other!"
113:169,06['  ]| Miss*Stackpole declared.  
113:169,06[I  ]| "Much good may it do
113:169,07[I  ]| you!  But if you wish to$9$ be serious once in$4$ your life
113:169,08[I  ]| here is a chance; and if you really care for$4$ your
113:169,09[I  ]| cousin here is an opportunity to$9$ prove it.  I do not
113:169,10[I  ]| expect you to$9$ understand her; that$6#2$ is too much to$9$
113:169,11[I  ]| ask.  But you need not do that$6#2$ to$9$ grant my favour.
113:169,12[I  ]| I will$1$ supply the necessary intelligence."
113:169,13[B  ]| "I shall enjoy that$6#2$ immensely!" 
113:169,13['  ]| Ralph exclaimed.
113:169,14[B  ]| "I will$1$ be Caliban and you shall be Ariel."
113:169,15[I  ]| "You are not at all like$1$ Caliban, because you are
113:169,16[I  ]| sophisticated, and Caliban was not.  But I am not
113:169,17[I  ]| talking about imaginary characters; I am talking
113:169,18[I  ]| about Isabel.  Isabel is intensely real.  What I wish
113:169,19[I  ]| to$9$ tell you is that$3$ I find her fearfully changed."
113:169,20[B  ]| "Since you came, do you mean?"
113:169,21[I  ]| "Since I came and before I came.  She is not the 
113:169,22[I  ]| same as she once so$5#1$ beautifully was."
113:169,23[B  ]| "As she was in$4$ America?"
113:169,24[I  ]| "Yes, in$4$ America.  I suppose you know she comes
113:169,25[I  ]| from there.  She can not help it, but she does."
113:169,26[B  ]| "Do you want to$9$ change her back again?"
113:169,27[I  ]| "Of course I do, and I want you to$9$ help me."
113:169,28[B  ]| "Ah," 
113:169,28['  ]| said Ralph, 
113:169,28[B  ]| "I am only Caliban; I am not
113:169,29[B  ]| Prospero."
113:169,30[I  ]| "You were Prospero enough to$9$ make her what she
113:169,31[I  ]| has become.  You have acted on$4$ Isabel*Archer since
113:169,32[I  ]| she came here, Mr%*Touchett."
113:170,01[B  ]| "I, my dear Miss*Stackpole?  Never in$4$ the world.
113:170,02[B  ]| Isabel*Archer has acted on$4$ me ~~ yes; she acts on$4$
113:170,03[B  ]| every*one.  But I have been absolutely passive."
113:170,04[I  ]| "You are too passive then.  You had better stir
113:170,05[I  ]| yourself and be careful.  Isabel is changing every day;
113:170,06[I  ]| she is drifting away ~~ right out to$4$ sea.  I have watched
113:170,07[I  ]| her and I can see it.  She is not the bright American
113:170,08[I  ]| girl she was.  She is taking different views, a different
113:170,09[I  ]| colour, and turning away from her old ideals.  I want
113:170,10[I  ]| to$9$ save those ideals, Mr%*Touchett, and that$6#2$ is where
113:170,11[I  ]| you come in$5$."
113:170,12[B  ]| "Not surely as an ideal?"
113:170,13[I  ]| "Well, I hope not," 
113:170,13['  ]| Henrietta replied promptly.
113:170,14[I  ]| "I have got a fear in$4$ my heart that$3$ she is going to$9$ marry
113:170,15[I  ]| one of these fell Europeans, and I want to$9$ prevent
113:170,16[I  ]| it."
113:170,17[B  ]| "Ah, I see," 
113:170,17['  ]| cried Ralph; 
113:170,17[B  ]| "and to$9$ prevent it you
113:170,18[B  ]| want me to$9$ stop in$5$ and marry her?"
113:170,19[I  ]| "Not quite; that$6#2$ remedy would be as bad as the 
113:170,20[I  ]| disease, for$3$ you are the typical, the fell European from
113:170,21[I  ]| whom I wish to$9$ rescue her.  No$7$; I wish you to$9$ take
113:170,22[I  ]| an interest in$4$ another person ~~ a young man to$4$ 
113:170,23[I  ]| whom she once gave great encouragement and whom
113:170,24[I  ]| she now does not seem to$9$ think good enough.  He is 
113:170,25[I  ]| a thoroughly grand man and a very dear friend of 
113:170,26[I  ]| mine, and I wish very much you would invite him to$9$ 
113:170,27[I  ]| pay a visit here."
113:170,28['  ]| Ralph was much puzzled by$4$ this appeal, and it is
113:170,29['  ]| perhaps not to$4$ the credit of his purity of mind that$3$
113:170,30['  ]| he failed to$9$ look at it at first in$4$ the simplest light.
113:170,31['  ]| It wore, to$4$ his eyes, a tortuous air, and his fault was 
113:170,32['  ]| that$3$ 
113:170,32@b   | he was not quite sure that$3$ anything in$4$ the world
113:171,01@b   | could really be as candid as this request of Miss*Stackpole's
113:171,02@b   | appeared.  
113:171,02['  ]| That$3$ a young woman should
113:171,03['  ]| demand that$3$ a gentleman whom she described as her
113:171,04['  ]| very dear friend should be furnished with an opportunity
113:171,05['  ]| to$9$ make himself agreeable to$4$ another young
113:171,06['  ]| woman, a young woman whose attention had wandered
113:171,07['  ]| and whose charms were greater ~~ this was an
113:171,08['  ]| anomaly which$6#1$ for$4$ the moment challenged all his
113:171,09['  ]| ingenuity of interpretation.  To$9$ read between the 
113:171,10['  ]| lines was easier than to$9$ follow the text, and to$9$ suppose
113:171,11['  ]| that$3$ Miss*Stackpole wished the gentleman invited
113:171,12['  ]| to$4$ Gardencourt on$4$ her own account was the 
113:171,13['  ]| sign not so$5#1$ much of a vulgar as of an embarrassed
113:171,14['  ]| mind.  Even from this venial act of vulgarity, however,
113:171,15['  ]| Ralph was saved, and saved by$4$ a force that$6#1$ I 
113:171,16['  ]| can only speak of as inspiration.  With no$2$ more outward
113:171,17['  ]| light on$4$ the subject than he already possessed
113:171,18['  ]| he suddenly acquired the conviction that$3$ 
113:171,18@b   | it would be
113:171,19@b   | a sovereign injustice to$4$ the correspondent of the 
113:171,20@b   | \Interviewer\ to$9$ assign a dishonourable motive to$4$ any
113:171,21@b   | act of hers.  
113:171,21['  ]| This conviction passed into his mind
113:171,22['  ]| with extreme rapidity; it was perhaps kindled by$4$ the 
113:171,23['  ]| pure radiance of the young lady's imperturbable
113:171,24['  ]| gaze.  He returned this challenge a moment, consciously,
113:171,25['  ]| resisting an inclination to$9$ frown as one
113:171,26['  ]| frowns in$4$ the presence of larger luminaries.  
113:171,26[B  ]| "Who$6#2$ is
113:171,27[B  ]| the gentleman you speak of?"
113:171,28[I  ]| "Mr%*Caspar*Goodwood ~~ of Boston.  He has
113:171,29[I  ]| been extremely attentive to$4$ Isabel ~~ just as devoted
113:171,30[I  ]| to$4$ her as he can live.  He has followed her out here
113:171,31[I  ]| and he is at present in$4$ London.  I do not know his
113:171,32[I  ]| address, but I guess I can obtain it."
113:172,01[B  ]| "I have never heard of him," 
113:172,01['  ]| said Ralph.
113:172,02[I  ]| "Well, I suppose you have not heard of every*one.
113:172,03[I  ]| I do not believe he has ever heard of you; but that$6#2$ is
113:172,04[I  ]| no$2$ reason why Isabel should not marry him."
113:172,05['  ]| Ralph gave a mild ambiguous laugh.  
113:172,05[B  ]| "What a 
113:172,06[B  ]| rage you have for$4$ marrying people!  Do you remember
113:172,07[B  ]| how you wanted to$9$ marry \me\ the other day?"
113:172,08[I  ]| "I have got over that$6#2$.  You do not know how to$9$ take
113:172,09[I  ]| such ideas.  Mr%*Goodwood does, however; and 
113:172,10[I  ]| that$6#2$ is what I like$1$ about him.  He is a splendid man 
113:172,11[I  ]| and a perfect gentleman, and Isabel knows it."
113:172,12[B  ]| "Is she very fond of him?"
113:172,13[I  ]| "If she is not she ought to$9$ be.  He is simply wrapped
113:172,14[I  ]| up$5$ in$4$ her."
113:172,15[B  ]| "And you wish me to$9$ ask him here," 
113:172,15['  ]| said Ralph
113:172,16['  ]| reflectively.
113:172,17[I  ]| "It would be an act of true hospitality."
113:172,18[B  ]| "Caspar*Goodwood," 
113:172,18['  ]| Ralph continued ~~ 
113:172,18[B  ]| "it is
113:172,19[B  ]| rather a striking name."
113:172,20[I  ]| "I do not care anything about his name.  It might
113:172,21[I  ]| be Ezekiel Jenkins, and I should say the same.
113:172,22[I  ]| He is the only man I have ever seen whom I think
113:172,23[I  ]| worthy of Isabel."
113:172,24[B  ]| "You are a very devoted friend," 
113:172,24['  ]| said Ralph.
113:172,25[I  ]| "Of course I am.  If you say that$6#2$ to$9$ pour scorn on$4$
113:172,26[I  ]| me I do not care."
113:172,27[B  ]| "I do not say it to$9$ pour scorn on$4$ you; I am very 
113:172,28[B  ]| much struck with it."
113:172,29[I  ]| "You are more satiric than ever, but I advise you
113:172,30[I  ]| not to$9$ laugh at Mr%*Goodwood."
113:172,31[B  ]| "I assure you I am very serious; you ought to$9$ 
113:172,32[B  ]| understand that$6#2$," 
113:172,32['  ]| said Ralph.
113:173,01['  ]| In$4$ a moment his companion understood it.  
113:173,01[I  ]| "I believe
113:173,02[I  ]| you are; now you are too serious."
113:173,03[B  ]| "You are difficult to$9$ please."
113:173,04[I  ]| "Oh, you are very serious indeed.  You will$1$ not invite
113:173,05[I  ]| Mr%*Goodwood."
113:173,06[B  ]| "I do not know," 
113:173,06['  ]| said Ralph.  
113:173,06[B  ]| "I am capable of 
113:173,07[B  ]| strange things.  Tell me a little about Mr%*Goodwood.
113:173,08[B  ]| What is he like$4$?"
113:173,09[I  ]| "He is just the opposite of you.  He is at the head
113:173,10[I  ]| of a cotton-factory; a very fine one."
113:173,11[B  ]| "Has he pleasant manners?" 
113:173,11['  ]| asked Ralph.
113:173,12[I  ]| "Splendid manners ~~ in$4$ the American style."
113:173,13[B  ]| "Would he be an agreeable member of our little
113:173,14[B  ]| circle?"
113:173,15[I  ]| "I do not think he would care much about our little
113:173,16[I  ]| circle.  He would concentrate on$4$ Isabel."
113:173,17[B  ]| "And how would my cousin like$1$ that$6#2$?"
113:173,18[I  ]| "Very possibly not at all.  But it will$1$ be good for$4$
113:173,19[I  ]| her.  It will$1$ call back her thoughts."
113:173,20[B  ]| "Call them back ~~ from where?"
113:173,21[I  ]| "From foreign parts and other unnatural places.
113:173,22[I  ]| Three months ago she gave Mr%*Goodwood every
113:173,23[I  ]| reason to$9$ suppose he was acceptable to$4$ her, and it is
113:173,24[I  ]| not worthy of Isabel to$9$ go back on$4$ a real friend
113:173,25[I  ]| simply because she has changed the scene.  I have
113:173,26[I  ]| changed the scene too, and the effect of it has been to$9$
113:173,27[I  ]| make me care more for$4$ my old associations than ever.
113:173,28[I  ]| It is my belief that$3$ the sooner Isabel changes it back
113:173,29[I  ]| again the better.  I know her well enough to$9$ know
113:173,30[I  ]| that$3$ she would never be truly happy over here, and
113:173,31[I  ]| I wish her to$9$ form some strong American tie that$6#1$
113:173,32[I  ]| will$1$ act as a preservative."
113:174,01[B  ]| "Are not you perhaps a little too much in$4$ a hurry?"
113:174,02['  ]| Ralph enquired.  
113:174,02[B  ]| "Do not you think you ought to$9$ give
113:174,03[B  ]| her more of a chance in$4$ poor old England?"
113:174,04[I  ]| "A chance to$9$ ruin her bright young life?  One is
113:174,05[I  ]| never too much in$4$ a hurry to$9$ save a precious human
113:174,06[I  ]| creature from drowning."
113:174,07[B  ]| "As I understand it then," 
113:174,07['  ]| said Ralph, 
113:174,07[B  ]| "you wish
113:174,08[B  ]| me to$9$ push Mr%*Goodwood overboard after her.  Do
113:174,09[B  ]| you know," 
113:174,09['  ]| he added, 
113:174,09[B  ]| "that$3$ I have never heard her
113:174,10[B  ]| mention his name?"
113:174,11['  ]| Henrietta gave a brilliant smile.  
113:174,11[I  ]| "I am delighted
113:174,12[I  ]| to$9$ hear that$6#2$; it proves how much she thinks of him."
113:174,13['  ]| Ralph appeared to$9$ allow that$3$ there was a good deal
113:174,14['  ]| in$4$ this, and he surrendered to$4$ thought while his companion
113:174,15['  ]| watched him askance.  
113:174,15[B  ]| "If I should invite
113:174,16[B  ]| Mr%*Goodwood," 
113:174,16['  ]| he finally said, 
113:174,16[B  ]| "it would be to$9$
113:174,17[B  ]| quarrel with him."
113:174,18[I  ]| "Do not do that$6#2$; he would prove the better man."
113:174,19[B  ]| "You certainly are doing your best to$9$ make me hate
113:174,20[B  ]| him!  I really do not think I can ask him.  I should be
113:174,21[B  ]| afraid of being rude to$4$ him."
113:174,22[I  ]| "It is just as you please," 
113:174,22['  ]| Henrietta returned.  
113:174,22[I  ]| "I
113:174,23[I  ]| had no$2$ idea you were in$4$ love with her yourself."
113:174,24[B  ]| "Do you really believe that$6#2$?" 
113:174,24['  ]| the young man
113:174,25['  ]| asked with lifted eyebrows.
113:174,26[I  ]| "That$6#2$ is the most natural speech I have ever heard
113:174,27[I  ]| you make!  Of course I believe it," 
113:174,27['  ]| Miss*Stackpole
113:174,28['  ]| ingeniously said.
113:174,29[B  ]| "Well," 
113:174,29['  ]| Ralph concluded, 
113:174,29[B  ]| "to$9$ prove to$4$ you that$3$
113:174,30[B  ]| you are wrong I will$1$ invite him.  It must be of course
113:174,31[B  ]| as a friend of yours."
113:174,32[I  ]| "It will$1$ not be as a friend of mine that$3$ he will$1$ come;
113:175,01[I  ]| and it will$1$ not be to$9$ prove to$4$ me that$3$ I am wrong that$3$
113:175,02[I  ]| you will$1$ ask him ~~ but to$9$ prove it to$4$ yourself!"
113:175,03['  ]| These last words of Miss*Stackpole's (on$4$ which$6#1$ the
113:175,04['  ]| two presently separated) contained an amount of truth
113:175,05['  ]| which$6#1$ Ralph*Touchett was obliged to$9$ recognise; but
113:175,06['  ]| it so$5#1$ far took the edge from too sharp a recognition
113:175,07['  ]| that$3$, in$4$ spite of his suspecting 
113:175,07@b   | it would be rather more
113:175,08@b   | indiscreet to$9$ keep than to$9$ break his promise, 
113:175,08['  ]| he wrote
113:175,09['  ]| Mr%*Goodwood a note of six lines, expressing 
113:175,09@b   | the 
113:175,10@b   | pleasure it would give Mr%*Touchett the elder that$3$
113:175,11@b   | he should join a little party at Gardencourt, of which$6#1$
113:175,12@b   | Miss*Stackpole was a valued member.  
113:175,12['  ]| Having sent his
113:175,13['  ]| letter (to$4$ the care of a banker whom Henrietta suggested) 
113:175,14['  ]| he waited in$4$ some suspense.  He had heard this
113:175,15['  ]| fresh formidable figure named for$4$ the first time; for$3$
113:175,16['  ]| when his mother had mentioned on$4$ her arrival that$3$
113:175,17@g   | there was a story about the girl's having an "admirer"
113:175,18@g   | at home, 
113:175,18['  ]| the idea had seemed deficient in$4$ reality and
113:175,19['  ]| he had taken no$2$ pains to$9$ ask questions the answers to$4$
113:175,20['  ]| which$6#1$ would involve only the vague or the disagreeable.
113:175,21['  ]| Now, however, the native admiration of which$6#1$ 
113:175,22['  ]| his cousin was the object had become more concrete;
113:175,23@b   | it took the form of a young man who$6#1$ had followed her
113:175,24@b   | to$4$ London, who$6#1$ was interested in$4$ a cotton-mill and
113:175,25@b   | had manners in$4$ the most splendid of the American
113:175,26@b   | styles.  
113:175,26['  ]| Ralph had two theories about this intervener.
113:175,27@b   | Either his passion was a sentimental fiction of Miss*Stackpole's
113:175,28@b   | (there was always a sort of tacit understanding 
113:175,29@b   | among women, born of the solidarity of the
113:175,30@b   | sex, that$3$ they should discover or invent lovers for$4$ each
113:175,31@b   | other), in$4$ which$6#1$ case he was not to$9$ be feared and
113:175,32@b   | would probably not accept the invitation; or else he
113:176,01@b   | would accept the invitation and in$4$ this event prove
113:176,02@b   | himself a creature too irrational to$9$ demand further
113:176,03@b   | consideration.  
113:176,03['  ]| The latter clause of Ralph's argument
113:176,04['  ]| might have seemed incoherent; but it embodied his
113:176,05['  ]| conviction that$3$ if Mr%*Goodwood were interested in$4$
113:176,06['  ]| Isabel in$4$ the serious manner described by$4$ Miss*Stackpole
113:176,07['  ]| he would not care to$9$ present himself at Gardencourt
113:176,08['  ]| on$4$ a summons from the latter lady.  
113:176,08[B  ]| "On$4$ this
113:176,09[B  ]| supposition," 
113:176,09['  ]| said Ralph, 
113:176,09[B  ]| "he must regard her as
113:176,10[B  ]| a thorn on$4$ the stem of his rose; as an intercessor he
113:176,11[B  ]| must find her wanting in$4$ tact."
113:176,12['  ]| Two days after he had sent his invitation he received
113:176,13['  ]| a very short note from Caspar*Goodwood,
113:176,14@e   | thanking him for$4$ it, regretting that$3$ other engagements
113:176,15@e   | made a visit to$4$ Gardencourt impossible and presenting
113:176,16@e   | many compliments to$4$ Miss*Stackpole.  
113:176,16['  ]| Ralph
113:176,17['  ]| handed the note to$4$ Henrietta, who$6#1$, when she had read
113:176,18['  ]| it, exclaimed: 
113:176,18[I  ]| "Well, I never have heard of anything
113:176,19[I  ]| so$5#1$ stiff!" 
113:176,20[B  ]| "I am afraid he does not care so$5#1$ much about my
113:176,21[B  ]| cousin as you suppose," 
113:176,21['  ]| Ralph observed.
113:176,22[I  ]| "No$7$, it is not that$6#2$; it is some subtler motive.  His
113:176,23[I  ]| nature is very deep.  But I am determined to$9$ fathom it,
113:176,24[I  ]| and I shall write to$4$ him to$9$ know what he means."
113:176,25['  ]| His refusal of Ralph's overtures was vaguely disconcerting;
113:176,26['  ]| from the moment he declined to$9$ come to$4$ 
113:176,27['  ]| Gardencourt our friend began to$9$ think him of importance.
113:176,28['  ]| He asked himself 
113:176,28@b   | what it signified to$4$ him
113:176,29@b   | whether Isabel's admirers should be desperadoes or
113:176,30@b   | laggards; they were not rivals of his and were perfectly 
113:176,31@b   | welcome to$9$ act out their genius.  
113:176,31['  ]| Nevertheless
113:176,32['  ]| he felt much curiosity as to$4$ the result of Miss*Stackpole's
113:177,01['  ]| promised enquiry into the causes of Mr%*Goodwood's 
113:177,02['  ]| stiffness ~~ a curiosity for$4$ the present ungratified,
113:177,03['  ]| inasmuch as when he asked her three days later
113:177,04@b   | if she had written to$4$ London 
113:177,04['  ]| she was obliged to$9$ confess
113:177,05@i   | she had written in$4$ vain.  
113:177,05['  ]| Mr%*Goodwood had not
113:177,06['  ]| replied.
113:177,07[I  ]| "I suppose he is thinking it over," 
113:177,07['  ]| she said; 
113:177,07[I  ]| "he
113:177,08[I  ]| thinks everything over; he is not \really\ at all impetuous.
113:177,09[I  ]| But I am accustomed to$4$ having my letters answered 
113:177,10[I  ]| the same day."  
113:177,10['  ]| She presently proposed to$4$
113:177,11['  ]| Isabel, at all events, that$3$ 
113:177,11@i   | they should make an excursion
113:177,12@i   | to$4$ London together.  
113:177,12[I  ]| "If I must tell the truth,"
113:177,13['  ]| she observed, 
113:177,13[I  ]| "I am not seeing much at this place,
113:177,14[I  ]| and I should not think you were either.  I have not even
113:177,15[I  ]| seen that$6#2$ aristocrat ~~ what is his name? ~~ Lord*Washburton.
113:177,16[I  ]| He seems to$9$ let you severely alone."
113:177,17[A  ]| "Lord*Warburton is coming to-morrow, I happen
113:177,18[A  ]| to$9$ know," 
113:177,18['  ]| replied her friend, who$6#1$ had received a note
113:177,19['  ]| from the master of Lockleigh in$4$ answer to$4$ her own
113:177,20['  ]| letter.  
113:177,20[A  ]| "You will$1$ have every opportunity of turning
113:177,21[A  ]| him inside out."
113:177,22[I  ]| "Well, he may do for$4$ one letter, but what is one letter
113:177,23[I  ]| when you want to$9$ write fifty?  I have described all
113:177,24[I  ]| the scenery in$4$ this vicinity and raved about all the old
113:177,25[I  ]| women and donkeys.  You may say what you please,
113:177,26[I  ]| scenery does not make a vital letter.  I must go back
113:177,27[I  ]| to$4$ London and get some impressions of real life.  I was
113:177,28[I  ]| there but three days before I came away, and that$6#2$ is
113:177,29[I  ]| hardly time to$9$ get in$4$ touch."
113:177,30['  ]| As Isabel, on$4$ her journey from New*York to$4$ Gardencourt,
113:177,31['  ]| had seen even less of the British capital 
113:177,32['  ]| than this, it appeared a happy suggestion of Henrietta's
113:178,01['  ]| that$3$ the two should go thither on$4$ a visit of 
113:178,02['  ]| pleasure.  The idea struck Isabel as charming; she 
113:178,03['  ]| was curious of the thick detail of London, which$6#1$ had
113:178,04['  ]| always loomed large and rich to$4$ her.  They turned
113:178,05['  ]| over their schemes together and indulged in$4$ visions
113:178,06['  ]| of romantic hours.  
113:178,06@x   | They would stay at some picturesque
113:178,07@x   | old inn ~~ one of the inns described by$4$ Dickens
113:178,08@x   | ~~ and drive over the town in$4$ those delightful hansoms.
113:178,09['  ]| Henrietta was a literary woman, and the great
113:178,10['  ]| advantage of being a literary woman was that$3$ you
113:178,11['  ]| could go everywhere and do everything.  
113:178,11@x   | They would
113:178,12@x   | dine at a coffee-house and go afterwards to$4$ the play;
113:178,13@x   | they would frequent the Abbey and the British Museum
113:178,14@x   | and find out where Doctor Johnson had lived,
113:178,15@x   | and Goldsmith and Addison.  
113:178,15['  ]| Isabel grew eager and
113:178,16['  ]| presently unveiled the bright vision to$4$ Ralph, who$6#1$
113:178,17['  ]| burst into a fit of laughter which$6#1$ scarce expressed the
113:178,18['  ]| sympathy she had desired.
113:178,19[B  ]| "It is a delightful plan," 
113:178,19['  ]| he said. 
113:178,19[B  ]| "I advise you to$9$ 
113:178,20[B  ]| go to$4$ the Duke's Head in$4$ Covent Garden, an easy,
113:178,21[B  ]| informal, old-fashioned place, and I will$1$ have you put 
113:178,22[B  ]| down at my club."
113:178,23[A  ]| "Do you mean it is improper?" 
113:178,23['  ]| Isabel asked.
113:178,24[A  ]| "Dear me, is not anything proper here?  With Henrietta
113:178,25[A  ]| surely I may go anywhere; she is not hampered
113:178,26[A  ]| in$4$ that$6#2$ way.  She has travelled over the whole American
113:178,27[A  ]| continent and can at least find her way about this 
113:178,28[A  ]| minute island."
113:178,29[B  ]| "Ah then," 
113:178,29['  ]| said Ralph, 
113:178,29[B  ]| "let me take advantage of 
113:178,30[B  ]| her protection to$9$ go up$5$ to$4$ town as well.  I may never
113:178,31[B  ]| have a chance to$9$ travel so$5#1$ safely!"
114:179,01['  ]| Miss*Stackpole would have prepared to$9$ start immediately;
114:179,02['  ]| but Isabel, as we have seen, had been
114:179,03['  ]| notified that$3$ Lord*Warburton would come again to$4$ 
114:179,04['  ]| Gardencourt, and she believed it her duty to$9$ remain
114:179,05['  ]| there and see him.  For$4$ four or five days he had made
114:179,06['  ]| no$2$ response to$4$ her letter; then he had written, very
114:179,07['  ]| briefly, to$9$ say 
114:179,07@d   | he would come to$4$ luncheon two days
114:179,08@d   | later.  
114:179,08['  ]| There was something in$4$ these delays and postponements
114:179,09['  ]| that$6#1$ touched the girl and renewed her
114:179,10['  ]| sense of his desire to$9$ be considerate and patient, not
114:179,11['  ]| to$9$ appear to$9$ urge her too grossly; a consideration the
114:179,12['  ]| more studied that$3$ she was so$5#1$ sure he "really liked"
114:179,13['  ]| her.  Isabel told her uncle 
114:179,13@a   | she had written to$4$ him,
114:179,14['  ]| mentioning also his intention of coming; and the old
114:179,15['  ]| man, in$4$ consequence, left his room earlier than usual
114:179,16['  ]| and made his appearance at the two o'clock repast.
114:179,17['  ]| This was by$4$ no$2$ means an act of vigilance on$4$ his part,
114:179,18['  ]| but the fruit of a benevolent belief that$3$ his being of
114:179,19['  ]| the company might help to$9$ cover any conjoined straying
114:179,20['  ]| away in$4$ case Isabel should give their noble visitor
114:179,21['  ]| another hearing.  That$6#2$ personage drove over from
114:179,22['  ]| Lockleigh and brought the elder of his sisters with
114:179,23['  ]| him, a measure presumably dictated by$4$ reflexions of
114:179,24['  ]| the same order as Mr%*Touchett's.  The two visitors
114:179,25['  ]| were introduced to$4$ Miss*Stackpole, who$6#1$, at luncheon,
114:179,26['  ]| occupied a seat adjoining Lord*Warburton's.  Isabel,
114:179,27['  ]| who$6#1$ was nervous and had no$2$ relish for$4$ the prospect
114:180,01['  ]| of again arguing the question he had so$5#1$ prematurely
114:180,02['  ]| opened, could not help admiring his good-humoured
114:180,03['  ]| self-possession, which$6#1$ quite disguised the symptoms
114:180,04['  ]| of that$6#2$ preoccupation with her presence it was natural
114:180,05['  ]| she should suppose him to$9$ feel.  He neither looked
114:180,06['  ]| at her nor spoke to$4$ her, and the only sign of his
114:180,07['  ]| emotion was that$3$ he avoided meeting her eyes.  He
114:180,08['  ]| had plenty of talk for$4$ the others, however, and he
114:180,09['  ]| appeared to$9$ eat his luncheon with discrimination and 
114:180,10['  ]| appetite.  Miss*Molyneux, who$6#1$ had a smooth, nun-like
114:180,11['  ]| forehead and wore a large silver cross suspended
114:180,12['  ]| from her neck, was evidently preoccupied with Henrietta*Stackpole,
114:180,13['  ]| upon$4$ whom her eyes constantly 
114:180,14['  ]| rested in$4$ a manner suggesting a conflict between deep
114:180,15['  ]| alienation and yearning wonder.  Of the two ladies
114:180,16['  ]| from Lockleigh she was the one Isabel had liked best;
114:180,17['  ]| there was such a world of hereditary quiet in$4$ her.
114:180,18['  ]| Isabel was sure moreover that$3$ her mild forehead and
114:180,19['  ]| silver cross referred to$4$ some weird Anglican mystery
114:180,20['  ]| ~~ some delightful reinstitution perhaps of the quaint
114:180,21['  ]| office of the canoness.  She wondered 
114:180,21@a   | what Miss*Molyneux
114:180,22@a   | would think of her if she knew Miss*Archer
114:180,23@a   | had refused her brother; 
114:180,23['  ]| and then she felt sure that$3$ 
114:180,24@a   | Miss*Molyneux would never know ~~ that$3$ Lord*Warburton 
114:180,25@a   | never told her such things.  He was fond
114:180,26@a   | of her and kind to$4$ her, but on$4$ the whole he told her
114:180,27@a   | little.  
114:180,27['  ]| Such, at least, was Isabel's theory; when, at
114:180,28['  ]| table, she was not occupied in$4$ conversation she was
114:180,29['  ]| usually occupied in$4$ forming theories about her neighbours.
114:180,30['  ]| According to$$ Isabel, if Miss*Molyneux should
114:180,31['  ]| ever learn what had passed between Miss*Archer and
114:180,32['  ]| Lord*Warburton she would probably be shocked at
114:181,01['  ]| such a girl's failure to$9$ rise; or no$7$, rather (this was 
114:181,02['  ]| our heroine's last position) she would impute to$4$ the 
114:181,03['  ]| young American but a due consciousness of inequality.
114:181,04['  ]| 
114:181,05['  ]| Whatever Isabel might have made of her opportunities,
114:181,06['  ]| at all events, Henrietta*Stackpole was by$4$ no$2$
114:181,07['  ]| means disposed to$9$ neglect those in$4$ which$6#1$ she now
114:181,08['  ]| found herself immersed.  
114:181,08[I  ]| "Do you know you are the
114:181,09[I  ]| first lord I have ever seen?" 
114:181,09['  ]| she said very promptly to$4$
114:181,10['  ]| her neighbour.  
114:181,10[I  ]| "I suppose you think I am awfully
114:181,11[I  ]| benighted."
114:181,12[D  ]| "You have escaped seeing some very ugly men," 
114:181,12['  ]| Lord*Warburton
114:181,13['  ]| answered, looking a trifle absently about
114:181,14['  ]| the table.
114:181,15[I  ]| "Are they very ugly?  They try to$9$ make us believe
114:181,16[I  ]| in$4$ America that$3$ they are all handsome and magnificent
114:181,17[I  ]| and that$3$ they wear wonderful robes and crowns."
114:181,18[D  ]| "Ah, the robes and crowns are gone out of fashion,"
114:181,19['  ]| said Lord*Warburton, 
114:181,19[D  ]| "like$4$ your tomahawks and 
114:181,20[D  ]| revolvers."
114:181,21[I  ]| "I am sorry for$4$ that$6#2$; I think an aristocracy ought to$9$
114:181,22[I  ]| be splendid," 
114:181,22['  ]| Henrietta declared.  
114:181,22[I  ]| "If it is not that$6#2$,
114:181,23[I  ]| what is it?"
114:181,24[D  ]| "Oh, you know, it is not much, at the best," 
114:181,24['  ]| her
114:181,25['  ]| neighbor allowed.  
114:181,25[D  ]| "will$1$ not you have a potato?"
114:181,26[I  ]| "I do not care much for$4$ these European potatoes.
114:181,27[I  ]| I should not know you from an ordinary American
114:181,28[I  ]| gentleman."
114:181,29[D  ]| "Do talk to$4$ me as if I \were\ one," 
114:181,29['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.
114:181,30[D  ]| "I do not see how you manage to$9$ get on$5$ without
114:181,31[D  ]| potatoes; you must find so$5#1$ few things to$9$ eat over
114:181,32[D  ]| here."
114:182,01['  ]| Henrietta was silent a little; there was a chance he
114:182,02['  ]| was not sincere.  
114:182,02[I  ]| "I have had hardly any appetite since
114:182,03[I  ]| I have been here," 
114:182,03['  ]| she went on$5$ at last; 
114:182,03[I  ]| "so$3$ it does not
114:182,04[I  ]| much matter.  I do not approve of \you\, you know; I 
114:182,05[I  ]| feel as if I ought to$9$ tell you that$6#2$."
114:182,06[D  ]| "Do not approve of me?"
114:182,07[I  ]| "Yes; I do not suppose any*one ever said such a 
114:182,08[I  ]| thing to$4$ you before, did they?  I do not approve of
114:182,09[I  ]| lords as an institution.  I think the world has got
114:182,10[I  ]| beyond them ~~ far beyond."
114:182,11[D  ]| "Oh, so$5#2$ do I.  I do not approve of myself in$4$ the least.
114:182,12[D  ]| Sometimes it comes over me ~~ how I should object
114:182,13[D  ]| to$4$ myself if I were not myself, do not you know?  But
114:182,14[D  ]| that$6#2$ is rather good, by$4$ the way ~~ not to$9$ be vainglorious."
114:182,15[D  ]| 
114:182,16[I  ]| "Why do not you give it up$5$ then?" 
114:182,16['  ]| Miss*Stackpole
114:182,17['  ]| enquired.
114:182,18[D  ]| "Give up$5$ ~~ a ~~ ?" 
114:182,18['  ]| asked Lord*Warburton, meeting
114:182,19['  ]| her harsh inflexion with a very mellow one.
114:182,20[I  ]| "Give up$5$ being a lord."
114:182,21[D  ]| "Oh, I am so$5#1$ little of one!  One would really forget
114:182,22[D  ]| all about it if you wretched Americans were not constantly
114:182,23[D  ]| reminding one.  However, I do think of giving
114:182,24[D  ]| it up$5$, the little there is left of it, one of these days."
114:182,25[I  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ see you do it!"  
114:182,25['  ]| Henrietta exclaimed
114:182,26['  ]| rather grimly.
114:182,27[D  ]| "I will$1$ invite you to$4$ the ceremony; we will$1$ have a 
114:182,28[D  ]| supper and a dance."
114:182,29[I  ]| "Well," 
114:182,29['  ]| said Miss*Stackpole, 
114:182,29[I  ]| "I like$1$ to$9$ see all sides.
114:182,30[I  ]| I do not approve of a privileged class, but I like$1$ to$9$ hear
114:182,31[I  ]| what they have to$9$ say for$4$ themselves."
114:182,32[D  ]| "Mighty little, as you see!"
114:183,01[I  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ draw you out a little more," 
114:183,01['  ]| Henrietta
114:183,02['  ]| continued.  
114:183,02[I  ]| "But you are always looking away.
114:183,03[I  ]| You are afraid of meeting my eye.  I see you want to$9$
114:183,04[I  ]| escape me."
114:183,05[D  ]| "No$7$, I am only looking for$4$ those despised potatoes."
114:183,06[D  ]| 
114:183,07[I  ]| "Please explain about that$6#2$ young lady ~~ your
114:183,08[I  ]| sister ~~ then.  I do not understand about her.  Is she
114:183,09[I  ]| a Lady?"
114:183,10[D  ]| "She is a capital good girl."
114:183,11[I  ]| "I do not like$1$ the way you say that$6#2$ ~~ as if you
114:183,12[I  ]| wanted to$9$ change the subject.  Is her position inferior
114:183,13[I  ]| to$4$ yours?"
114:183,14[D  ]| "We neither of us have any position to$9$ speak of;
114:183,15[D  ]| but she is better off than I, because she has none of
114:183,16[D  ]| the bother."
114:183,17[I  ]| "Yes, she does not look as if she had much bother.
114:183,18[I  ]| I wish I had as little bother as that$6#2$.  You do produce
114:183,19[I  ]| quiet people over here, whatever else you may do."
114:183,20[D  ]| "Ah, you see one takes life easily, on$4$ the whole,"
114:183,21['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.  
114:183,21[D  ]| "And then you know we are
114:183,22[D  ]| very dull.  Ah, we can be dull when we try!"
114:183,23[I  ]| "I should advise you to$9$ try something else.  I 
114:183,24[I  ]| should not know what to$9$ talk to$4$ your sister about; she
114:183,25[I  ]| looks so$5#1$ different.  Is that$6#2$ silver cross a badge?"
114:183,26[D  ]| "A badge?"
114:183,27[I  ]| "A sign of rank."
114:183,28['  ]| Lord*Warburton's glance had wandered a good
114:183,29['  ]| deal, but at this it met the gaze of his neighbour.
114:183,30[D  ]| "Oh yes," 
114:183,30['  ]| he answered in$4$ a moment; 
114:183,30[D  ]| "the women
114:183,31[D  ]| go in$5$ for$4$ those things.  The silver cross is worn by$4$ the
114:183,32[D  ]| eldest daughters of Viscounts."  
114:183,32['  ]| Which$6#1$ was his harmless
114:184,01['  ]| revenge for$4$ having occasionally had his credulity
114:184,02['  ]| too easily engaged in$4$ America.  After luncheon he proposed
114:184,03['  ]| to$4$ Isabel to$9$ come into the gallery and look at
114:184,04['  ]| the pictures; and though she knew he had seen the
114:184,05['  ]| pictures twenty times she complied without criticising
114:184,06['  ]| this pretext.  Her conscience now was very easy; ever
114:184,07['  ]| since she sent him her letter she had felt particularly
114:184,08['  ]| light of spirit.  He walked slowly to$4$ the end of the gallery,
114:184,09['  ]| staring at its contents and saying nothing; and
114:184,10['  ]| then he suddenly broke out:  
114:184,10[D  ]| "I hoped you would not
114:184,11[D  ]| write to$4$ me that$6#2$ way."
114:184,12[A  ]| "It was the only way, Lord*Warburton," 
114:184,12['  ]| said the
114:184,13['  ]| girl.  
114:184,13[A  ]| "Do try and believe that$6#2$."
114:184,14[D  ]| "If I could believe it of course I should let you
114:184,15[D  ]| alone.  But we can not believe by$4$ willing it; and I confess
114:184,16[D  ]| I do not understand.  I could understand your disliking 
114:184,17[D  ]| me; that$6#2$ I could understand well.  But that$3$
114:184,18[D  ]| you should admit you do ~~ "
114:184,19[A  ]| "What have I admitted?" 
114:184,19['  ]| Isabel interrupted,
114:184,20['  ]| turning slightly pale.
114:184,21[D  ]| "That$3$ you think me a good fellow; is not that$6#2$ it?"
114:184,22['  ]| She said nothing, and he went on$5$: 
114:184,22[D  ]| "You do not seem
114:184,23[D  ]| to$9$ have any reason, and that$6#2$ gives me a sense of
114:184,24[D  ]| injustice."
114:184,25[A  ]| "I have a reason, Lord*Warburton."  
114:184,25['  ]| She said it
114:184,26['  ]| in$4$ a tone that$6#1$ made his heart contract.
114:184,27[D  ]| "I should like$1$ very much to$9$ know it."
114:184,28[A  ]| "I will$1$ tell you some day when there is more to$9$ show
114:184,29[A  ]| for$4$ it."
114:184,30[D  ]| "Excuse my saying that$3$ in$4$ the mean*time I must
114:184,31[D  ]| doubt of it."
114:184,32[A  ]| "You make me very unhappy," 
114:184,32['  ]| said Isabel.
114:185,01[D  ]| "I am not sorry for$4$ that$6#2$; it may help you to$9$ know
114:185,02[D  ]| how I feel.  Will$1$ you kindly answer me a question?"
114:185,03['  ]| Isabel made no$2$ audible assent, but he apparently saw
114:185,04['  ]| in$4$ her eyes something that$6#1$ gave him courage to$9$ go on$5$.
114:185,05[D  ]| "Do you prefer some*one else?"
114:185,06[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is a question I would rather not answer."
114:185,07[D  ]| "Ah, you \do\ then!" 
114:185,07['  ]| her suitor murmured with bitterness.
114:185,08['  ]| 
114:185,09['  ]| The bitterness touched her, and she cried out:
114:185,10[A  ]| "You are mistaken!  I do not."
114:185,11['  ]| He sat down on$4$ a bench, unceremoniously, doggedly,
114:185,12['  ]| like$4$ a man in$4$ trouble; leaning his elbows on$4$
114:185,13['  ]| his knees and staring at the floor.  
114:185,13[D  ]| "I can not even be
114:185,14[D  ]| glad of that$6#2$," 
114:185,14['  ]| he said at last, throwing himself back
114:185,15['  ]| against the wall; 
114:185,15[D  ]| "for$3$ that$6#2$ would be an excuse."
114:185,16['  ]| She raised her eyebrows in$4$ surprise.  
114:185,16[A  ]| "An excuse?
114:185,17[A  ]| Must I excuse myself?"
114:185,18['  ]| He paid, however, no$2$ answer to$4$ the question.  Another 
114:185,19['  ]| idea had come into his head.  
114:185,19[D  ]| "Is it my political
114:185,20[D  ]| opinions?  Do you think I go too far?"
114:185,21[A  ]| "I can not object to$4$ your political opinions, because
114:185,22[A  ]| I do not understand them."
114:185,23[D  ]| "You do not care what I think!" 
114:185,23['  ]| he cried, getting
114:185,24['  ]| up$5$.  
114:185,24[D  ]| "It is all the same to$4$ you."
114:185,25['  ]| Isabel walked to$4$ the other side of the gallery and
114:185,26['  ]| stood there showing him her charming back, her light
114:185,27['  ]| slim figure, the length of her white neck as she bent
114:185,28['  ]| her head, and the density of her dark braids.  She
114:185,29['  ]| stopped in$4$ front of a small picture as if for$4$ the purpose
114:185,30['  ]| of examining it; and there was something so$5#1$ young
114:185,31['  ]| and free in$4$ her movement that$3$ her very pliancy seemed
114:185,32['  ]| to$9$ mock at him.  Her eyes, however, saw nothing; they
114:186,01['  ]| had suddenly been suffused with tears.  In$4$ a moment
114:186,02['  ]| he followed her, and by$4$ this time she had brushed her
114:186,03['  ]| tears away; but when she turned round her face was
114:186,04['  ]| pale and the expression of her eyes strange.  
114:186,04[A  ]| "That$6#2$
114:186,05[A  ]| reason that$6#1$ I would not tell you ~~ I will$1$ tell it you after
114:186,06[A  ]| all.  It is that$3$ I can not escape my fate."
114:186,07[D  ]| "Your fate?"
114:186,08[A  ]| "I should try to$9$ escape it if I were to$9$ marry you."
114:186,09[D  ]| "I do not understand.  Why should not \that$6#2$\ be your
114:186,10[D  ]| fate as well as anything else?"
114:186,11[A  ]| "Because it is not," 
114:186,11['  ]| said Isabel femininely.  
114:186,11[A  ]| "I
114:186,12[A  ]| know it is not.  It is not my fate to$9$ give up$5$ ~~ I know
114:186,13[A  ]| it can not be."
114:186,14['  ]| Poor Lord*Warburton stared, an interrogative point
114:186,15['  ]| in$4$ either eye.  
114:186,15[D  ]| "Do you call marrying \me\ giving up$5$?"
114:186,16[A  ]| "Not in$4$ the usual sense.  It is getting ~~ getting ~~
114:186,17[A  ]| getting a great deal.  But it is giving up$5$ other
114:186,18[A  ]| chances."
114:186,19[D  ]| "Other chances for$4$ what?"
114:186,20[A  ]| "I do not mean chances to$9$ marry," 
114:186,20['  ]| said Isabel,
114:186,21['  ]| her colour quickly coming back to$4$ her.  And then
114:186,22['  ]| she stopped, looking down with a deep frown, as if
114:186,23['  ]| it were hopeless to$9$ attempt to$9$ make her meaning
114:186,24['  ]| clear.
114:186,25[D  ]| "I do not think it presumptuous in$4$ me to$9$ suggest 
114:186,26[D  ]| that$3$ you will$1$ gain more than you will$1$ lose," 
114:186,26['  ]| her companion
114:186,27['  ]| observed.
114:186,28[A  ]| "I can not escape unhappiness," 
114:186,28['  ]| said Isabel.  
114:186,28[A  ]| "In$4$
114:186,29[A  ]| marrying you I shall be trying to$9$."
114:186,30[D  ]| "I do not know whether you would try to$9$, but you
114:186,31[D  ]| certainly would: that$6#2$ I must in$4$ candour admit!" 
114:186,31['  ]| he
114:186,32['  ]| exclaimed with an anxious laugh.
114:187,01[A  ]| "I must not ~~ I can not!" 
114:187,01['  ]| cried the girl.
114:187,02[D  ]| "Well, if you are bent on$4$ being miserable I do not
114:187,03[D  ]| see why you should make \me\ so$5#2$.  Whatever charms
114:187,04[D  ]| a life of misery may have for$4$ you, it has none for$4$
114:187,05[D  ]| me."
114:187,06[A  ]| "I am not bent on$4$ a life of misery," 
114:187,06['  ]| said Isabel.
114:187,07[A  ]| "I have always been intensely determined to$9$ be happy,
114:187,08[A  ]| and I have often believed I should be.  I have told people
114:187,09[A  ]| that$6#2$; you can ask them.  But it comes over me every
114:187,10[A  ]| now and then that$3$ I can never be happy in$4$ any extraordinary 
114:187,11[A  ]| way; not by$4$ turning away, by$4$ separating
114:187,12[A  ]| myself."
114:187,13[D  ]| "By$4$ separating yourself from what?"
114:187,14[A  ]| "From life.  From the usual chances and dangers,
114:187,15[A  ]| from what most people know and suffer."
114:187,16['  ]| Lord*Warburton broke into a smile that$6#1$ almost 
114:187,17['  ]| denoted hope.  
114:187,17[D  ]| "Why, my dear Miss*Archer," 
114:187,17['  ]| he began
114:187,18['  ]| to$9$ explain with the most considerate eagerness,
114:187,19[D  ]| "I do not offer you any exoneration from life or from
114:187,20[D  ]| any chances or dangers whatever.  I wish I could;
114:187,21[D  ]| depend upon$4$ it I would!  For$4$ what do you take me,
114:187,22[D  ]| pray?  Heaven help me, I am not the Emperor of 
114:187,23[D  ]| China!  All I offer you is the chance of taking the common
114:187,24[D  ]| lot in$4$ a comfortable sort of way.  The common
114:187,25[D  ]| lot?  Why, I am devoted to$4$ the common lot!  Strike an
114:187,26[D  ]| alliance with me, and I promise you that$3$ you shall
114:187,27[D  ]| have plenty of it.  You shall separate from nothing
114:187,28[D  ]| whatever ~~ not even from your friend Miss*Stackpole."
114:187,29[D  ]| 
114:187,30[A  ]| "She would never approve of it," 
114:187,30['  ]| said Isabel, trying to$9$
114:187,31['  ]| smile and take advantage of this side-issue; despising
114:187,32['  ]| herself too, not a little, for$4$ doing so$5#2$.
114:188,01[D  ]| "Are we speaking of Miss*Stackpole?" 
114:188,01['  ]| his lordship
114:188,02['  ]| asked impatiently.  
114:188,02[D  ]| "I never saw a person judge things
114:188,03[D  ]| on$4$ such theoretic grounds."
114:188,04[A  ]| "Now I suppose you are speaking of me," 
114:188,04['  ]| said Isabel
114:188,05['  ]| with humility; and she turned away again, for$3$ she
114:188,06['  ]| saw Miss*Molyneux enter the gallery, accompanied
114:188,07['  ]| by$4$ Henrietta and by$4$ Ralph.
114:188,08['  ]| Lord*Warburton's sister addressed him with a certain
114:188,09['  ]| timidity and reminded him 
114:188,09@v   | she ought to$9$ return
114:188,10@v   | home in$4$ time for$4$ tea, as she was expecting company
114:188,11@v   | to$9$ partake of it.  
114:188,11['  ]| He made no$2$ answer ~~ apparently
114:188,12['  ]| not having heard her; he was preoccupied, and with
114:188,13['  ]| good reason.  Miss*Molyneux ~~ as if he had been
114:188,14['  ]| Royalty ~~ stood like$4$ a lady-in-waiting.
114:188,15[I  ]| "Well, I never, Miss*Molyneux!" 
114:188,15['  ]| said Henrietta*Stackpole.
114:188,16[I  ]| "If I wanted to$9$ go he would have to$9$ go.  If I 
114:188,17[I  ]| wanted my brother to$9$ do a thing he would have to$9$ do it."
114:188,18[V  ]| "Oh, Warburton does everything one wants," 
114:188,18['  ]| Miss*Molyneux
114:188,19['  ]| answered with a quick, shy laugh.  
114:188,19[V  ]| "How
114:188,20[V  ]| very many pictures you have!" 
114:188,20['  ]| she went on$5$, turning
114:188,21['  ]| to$4$ Ralph.
114:188,22[B  ]| "They look a good many, because they are all put
114:188,23[B  ]| together," 
114:188,23['  ]| said Ralph.  
114:188,23[B  ]| "But it is really a bad way."
114:188,24[V  ]| "Oh, I think it is so$5#1$ nice.  I wish we had a gallery
114:188,25[V  ]| at Lockleigh.  I am so$5#1$ very fond of pictures," 
114:188,25['  ]| Miss*Molyneux
114:188,26['  ]| went on$5$, persistently, to$4$ Ralph, as if she
114:188,27['  ]| were afraid Miss*Stackpole would address her again.
114:188,28['  ]| Henrietta appeared at once to$9$ fascinate and to$9$ frighten
114:188,29['  ]| her.
114:188,30[B  ]| "Ah yes, pictures are very convenient," 
114:188,30['  ]| said Ralph,
114:188,31['  ]| who$6#1$ appeared to$9$ know better what style of reflexion
114:188,32['  ]| was acceptable to$4$ her.
114:189,01[V  ]| "They are so$5#1$ very pleasant when it rains," 
114:189,01['  ]| the young
114:189,02['  ]| lady continued.  
114:189,02[V  ]| "It has rained of late so$5#1$ very often."
114:189,03[I  ]| "I am sorry you are going away, Lord*Warburton,"
114:189,04['  ]| said Henrietta.  
114:189,04[I  ]| "I wanted to$9$ get a great deal more
114:189,05[I  ]| out of you."
114:189,06[D  ]| "I am not going away," 
114:189,06['  ]| Lord*Warburton answered.
114:189,07[I  ]| "Your sister says you must.  In$4$ America the gentlemen
114:189,08[I  ]| obey the ladies."
114:189,09[V  ]| "I am afraid we have some people to$4$ tea," 
114:189,09['  ]| said Miss*Molyneux,
114:189,10['  ]| looking at her brother.
114:189,11[D  ]| "Very good, my dear.  We will$1$ go."
114:189,12[I  ]| "I hoped you would resist!" 
114:189,12['  ]| Henrietta exclaimed.
114:189,13[I  ]| "I wanted to$9$ see what Miss*Molyneux would do."
114:189,14[V  ]| "I never do anything," 
114:189,14['  ]| said this young lady.
114:189,15[I  ]| "I suppose in$4$ your position it is sufficient for$4$ you to$9$
114:189,16[I  ]| exist!"  
114:189,16['  ]| Miss*Stackpole returned.  
114:189,16[I  ]| "I should like$1$ very
114:189,17[I  ]| much to$9$ see you at home."
114:189,18[V  ]| "You must come to$4$ Lockleigh again," 
114:189,18['  ]| said Miss*Molyneux,
114:189,19['  ]| very sweetly, to$4$ Isabel, ignoring this remark
114:189,20['  ]| of Isabel's friend.
114:189,21['  ]| Isabel looked into her quiet eyes a moment, and for$4$
114:189,22['  ]| that$6#2$ moment seemed to$9$ see in$4$ their grey depths the
114:189,23['  ]| reflexion of everything she had rejected in$4$ rejecting
114:189,24['  ]| Lord*Warburton ~~ the peace, the kindness, the 
114:189,25['  ]| honour, the possessions, a deep security and a great 
114:189,26['  ]| exclusion.  She kissed Miss*Molyneux and then she
114:189,27['  ]| said: 
114:189,27[A  ]| "I am afraid I can never come again."
114:189,28[V  ]| "Never again?"
114:189,29[A  ]| "I am afraid I am going away."
114:189,30[V  ]| "Oh, I am so$5#1$ very sorry," 
114:189,30['  ]| said Miss*Molyneux.  
114:189,30[V  ]| "I
114:189,31[V  ]| think that$6#2$ is so$5#1$ very wrong of you."
114:189,32['  ]| Lord*Warburton watched this little passage; then
114:190,01['  ]| he turned away and stared at a picture.  Ralph, leaning
114:190,02['  ]| against the rail before the picture with his hands
114:190,03['  ]| in$4$ his pockets, had for$4$ the moment been watching
114:190,04['  ]| him.
114:190,05[I  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ see you at home," 
114:190,05['  ]| said Henrietta,
114:190,06['  ]| whom Lord*Warburton found beside him.  
114:190,06[I  ]| "I should
114:190,07[I  ]| like$1$ an hour's talk with you; there are a great many
114:190,08[I  ]| questions I wish to$9$ ask you."
114:190,09[D  ]| "I shall be delighted to$9$ see you," 
114:190,09['  ]| the proprietor of
114:190,10['  ]| Lockleigh answered; 
114:190,10[D  ]| "but I am certain not to$9$ be able
114:190,11[D  ]| to$9$ answer many of your questions.  When will$1$ you
114:190,12[D  ]| come?"
114:190,13[I  ]| "Whenever Miss*Archer will$1$ take me.  We are thinking
114:190,14[I  ]| of going to$4$ London, but we will$1$ go and see you first.
114:190,15[I  ]| I am determined to$9$ get some satisfaction out of you."
114:190,16[D  ]| "If it depends upon$4$ Miss*Archer I am afraid you
114:190,17[D  ]| will$1$ not get much.  She will$1$ not come to$4$ Lockleigh; she
114:190,18[D  ]| does not like$1$ the place."
114:190,19[I  ]| "She told me it was lovely!" 
114:190,19['  ]| said Henrietta.
114:190,20['  ]| Lord*Warburton hesitated.  
114:190,20[D  ]| "She will$1$ not come, all
114:190,21[D  ]| the same.  You had better come alone," 
114:190,21['  ]| he added.
114:190,22['  ]| Henrietta straightened herself, and her large eyes
114:190,23['  ]| expanded.  
114:190,23[I  ]| "Would you make that$6#2$ remark to$4$ an English
114:190,24[I  ]| lady?" 
114:190,24['  ]| she enquired with soft asperity.
114:190,25['  ]| Lord*Warburton stared.  
114:190,25[D  ]| "Yes, if I liked her
114:190,26[D  ]| enough."
114:190,27[I  ]| "You would be careful not to$9$ like$1$ her enough.  If Miss*Archer
114:190,28[I  ]| will$1$ not visit your place again it is because she
114:190,29[I  ]| does not want to$9$ take me.  I know what she thinks of
114:190,30[I  ]| me, and I suppose you think the same ~~ that$3$ I 
114:190,31[I  ]| ought not to$9$ bring in$4$ individuals."  
114:190,31['  ]| Lord*Warburton
114:190,32['  ]| was at a loss; he had not been made acquainted with
114:191,01['  ]| Miss*Stackpole's professional character and failed to$9$
114:191,02['  ]| catch her allusion.  
114:191,02[I  ]| "Miss*Archer has been warning
114:191,03[I  ]| you!"  
114:191,03['  ]| she therefore went on$5$.
114:191,04[D  ]| "Warning me?"
114:191,05[I  ]| "Is not that$6#2$ why she came off alone with you here
114:191,06[I  ]| ~~ to$9$ put you on$4$ your guard?"
114:191,07[D  ]| "Oh dear, no$7$," 
114:191,07['  ]| said Lord*Warburton brazenly;
114:191,08[D  ]| "our talk had no$2$ such solemn character as that$6#2$."
114:191,09[I  ]| "Well, you have been on$4$ your guard ~~ intensely.
114:191,10[I  ]| I suppose it is natural to$4$ you; that$6#2$ is just what I 
114:191,11[I  ]| wanted to$9$ observe.  And so$3$, too, Miss*Molyneux ~~
114:191,12[I  ]| she would not commit herself.  \You\ have been warned,
114:191,13[I  ]| anyway," 
114:191,13['  ]| Henrietta continued, addressing this young
114:191,14['  ]| lady; 
114:191,14[I  ]| "but for$4$ you it was not necessary."
114:191,15[V  ]| "I hope not," 
114:191,15['  ]| said Miss*Molyneux vaguely.
114:191,16[B  ]| "Miss*Stackpole takes notes," 
114:191,16['  ]| Ralph soothingly
114:191,17['  ]| explained.  
114:191,17[B  ]| "She is a great satirist; she sees through us
114:191,18[B  ]| all and she works us up$5$."
114:191,19[I  ]| "Well, I must say I never have had such a collection
114:191,20[I  ]| of bad material!" 
114:191,20['  ]| Henrietta declared, looking from
114:191,21['  ]| Isabel to$4$ Lord*Warburton and from this nobleman
114:191,22['  ]| to$4$ his sister and to$4$ Ralph.  
114:191,22[I  ]| "There is something the
114:191,23[I  ]| matter with you all; you are as dismal as if you had
114:191,24[I  ]| got a bad cable."
114:191,25[B  ]| "You do see through us, Miss*Stackpole," 
114:191,25['  ]| said
114:191,26['  ]| Ralph in$4$ a low tone, giving her a little intelligent nod
114:191,27['  ]| as he led the party out of the gallery.  
114:191,27[B  ]| "There is something
114:191,28[B  ]| the matter with us all."
114:191,29['  ]| Isabel came behind these two; Miss*Molyneux,
114:191,30['  ]| who$6#1$ decidedly liked her immensely, had taken her
114:191,31['  ]| arm, to$9$ walk beside her over the polished floor.  Lord*Warburton
114:191,32['  ]| strolled on$4$ the other side with his hands 
114:192,01['  ]| behind him and his eyes lowered.  For$4$ some moments
114:192,02['  ]| he said nothing; and then, 
114:192,02[D  ]| "Is it true you are going
114:192,03[D  ]| to$4$ London?" 
114:192,03['  ]| he asked.
114:192,04[A  ]| "I believe it has been arranged."
114:192,05[D  ]| "And when shall you come back?"
114:192,06[A  ]| "In$4$ a few days; but probably for$4$ a very short time.
114:192,07[A  ]| I am going to$4$ Paris with my aunt."
114:192,08[D  ]| "When, then, shall I see you again?"
114:192,09[A  ]| "Not for$4$ a good while," 
114:192,09['  ]| said Isabel.  
114:192,09[D  ]| "But some
114:192,10[D  ]| day or other, I hope."
114:192,11[A  ]| "Do you really hope it?"
114:192,12[D  ]| "Very much."
114:192,13['  ]| He went a few steps in$4$ silence; then he stopped
114:192,14['  ]| and put out his hand.  
114:192,14[D  ]| "Good-bye."
114:192,15[A  ]| "Good-bye," 
114:192,15['  ]| said Isabel.
114:192,16['  ]| Miss*Molyneux kissed her again, and she let the
114:192,17['  ]| two depart.  After it, without rejoining Henrietta
114:192,18['  ]| and Ralph, she retreated to$4$ her own room; in$4$ which$6#1$
114:192,19['  ]| apartment, before dinner, she was found by$4$ Mrs%*Touchett,
114:192,20['  ]| who$6#1$ had stopped on$4$ her way to$4$ the saloon.
114:192,21[G  ]| "I may as well tell you," 
114:192,21['  ]| said that$6#2$ lady, 
114:192,21[G  ]| "that$3$ your
114:192,22[G  ]| uncle has informed me of your relations with Lord*Warburton."
114:192,23[G  ]| 
114:192,24['  ]| Isabel considered.  
114:192,24[A  ]| "Relations?  They are hardly
114:192,25[A  ]| relations.  That$6#2$ is the strange part of it: he has seen
114:192,26[A  ]| me but three or four times."
114:192,27[G  ]| "Why did you tell your uncle rather than me?"
114:192,28['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett dispassionately asked.
114:192,29['  ]| Again the girl hesitated.  
114:192,29[A  ]| "Because he knows Lord*Warburton
114:192,30[A  ]| better."
114:192,31[G  ]| "Yes, but I know you better."
114:192,32[A  ]| "I am not sure of that$6#2$," 
114:192,32['  ]| said Isabel, smiling.
114:193,01[G  ]| "Neither am I, after all; especially when you give
114:193,02[G  ]| me that$6#2$ rather conceited look.  One would think you
114:193,03[G  ]| were awfully pleased with yourself and had carried
114:193,04[G  ]| off a prize!  I suppose that$3$ when you refuse an offer
114:193,05[G  ]| like$4$ Lord*Warburton's it is because you expect to$9$ do 
114:193,06[G  ]| something better."
114:193,07[A  ]| "Ah, my uncle did not say that$6#2$!" 
114:193,07['  ]| cried Isabel,
114:193,08['  ]| smiling still.
115:194,01['  ]| It had been arranged that$3$ the two young ladies should
115:194,02['  ]| proceed to$4$ London under Ralph's escort, though Mrs%*Touchett
115:194,03['  ]| looked with little favour on$4$ the plan.  
115:194,03@g   | It was
115:194,04@g   | just the sort of plan, 
115:194,04['  ]| she said, 
115:194,04@g   | that$3$ Miss*Stackpole
115:194,05@g   | would be sure to$9$ suggest, 
115:194,05['  ]| and she enquired 
115:194,05@g   | if the correspondent
115:194,06@g   | of the \Interviewer\ was to$9$ take the party
115:194,07@g   | to$9$ stay at her favourite boarding-house.
115:194,08[A  ]| "I do not care where she takes us to$9$ stay, so$5#1$ long as
115:194,09[A  ]| there is local colour," 
115:194,09['  ]| said Isabel.  
115:194,09[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is what we are
115:194,10[A  ]| going to$4$ London for$4$."
115:194,11[G  ]| "I suppose that$3$ after a girl has refused an English
115:194,12[G  ]| lord she may do anything," 
115:194,12['  ]| her aunt rejoined.  
115:194,12[G  ]| "After
115:194,13[G  ]| that$6#2$ one need not stand on$4$ trifles."
115:194,14[A  ]| "Should you have liked me to$9$ marry Lord*Warburton?"
115:194,15['  ]| Isabel enquired.
115:194,16[G  ]| "Of course I should."
115:194,17[A  ]| "I thought you disliked the English so$5#1$ much."
115:194,18[G  ]| "So$5#2$ I do; but it is all the greater reason for$4$ making
115:194,19[G  ]| use of them."
115:194,20[A  ]| "Is that$6#2$ your idea of marriage?"  
115:194,20['  ]| And Isabel ventured
115:194,21['  ]| to$9$ add that$3$ 
115:194,21@a   | her aunt appeared to$4$ her to$9$ have
115:194,22@a   | made very little use of Mr%*Touchett.
115:194,23[G  ]| "Your uncle is not an English nobleman," 
115:194,23['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett,
115:194,24[G  ]| "though even if he had been I should still
115:194,25[G  ]| probably have taken up$5$ my residence in$4$ Florence."
115:194,26[A  ]| "Do you think Lord*Warburton could make me 
115:194,27[A  ]| any better than I am?" 
115:194,27['  ]| the girl asked with some animation.
115:195,01[A  ]| "I do not mean I am too good to$9$ improve.  I
115:195,02[A  ]| mean ~~ I mean that$3$ I do not love Lord*Warburton
115:195,03[A  ]| enough to$9$ marry him."
115:195,04[G  ]| "You did right to$9$ refuse him then," 
115:195,04['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett
115:195,05['  ]| in$4$ her smallest, sparest voice.  
115:195,05[G  ]| "Only, the
115:195,06[G  ]| next great offer you get, I hope you will$1$ manage to$9$ come
115:195,07[G  ]| up$5$ to$4$ your standard."
115:195,08[A  ]| "We had better wait till the offer comes before we
115:195,09[A  ]| talk about it.  I hope very much I may have no$2$ more
115:195,10[A  ]| offers for$4$ the present.  They upset me completely."
115:195,11[G  ]| "You probably will$1$ not be troubled with them if you
115:195,12[G  ]| adopt permanently the Bohemian manner of life.
115:195,13[G  ]| However, I have promised Ralph not to$9$ criticise."
115:195,14[A  ]| "I will$1$ do whatever Ralph says is right," 
115:195,14['  ]| Isabel returned.
115:195,15[A  ]| "I have unbounded confidence in$4$ Ralph."
115:195,16[G  ]| "His mother is much obliged to$4$ you!" 
115:195,16['  ]| this lady
115:195,17['  ]| dryly laughed.
115:195,18[A  ]| "It seems to$4$ me indeed she ought to$9$ feel it!"
115:195,19['  ]| Isabel irrepressibly answered.
115:195,20['  ]| Ralph had assured her that$3$ 
115:195,20@b   | there would be no$2$
115:195,21@b   | violation of decency in$4$ their paying a visit ~~ the
115:195,22@b   | little party of three ~~ to$4$ the sights of the metropolis;
115:195,23['  ]| but Mrs%*Touchett took a different view.  Like$4$ many
115:195,24['  ]| ladies of her country who$6#1$ had lived a long time in$4$
115:195,25['  ]| Europe, she had completely lost her native tact on$4$
115:195,26['  ]| such points, and in$4$ her reaction, not in$4$ itself deplorable,
115:195,27['  ]| against the liberty allowed to$4$ young persons
115:195,28['  ]| beyond the seas, had fallen into gratuitous and exaggerated 
115:195,29['  ]| scruples.  Ralph accompanied their visitors
115:195,30['  ]| to$4$ town and established them at a quiet inn in$4$ a street
115:195,31['  ]| that$6#1$ ran at right angles to$4$ Piccadilly.  His first idea
115:195,32['  ]| had been to$9$ take them to$4$ his father's house in$4$ Winchester*Square, 
115:196,01['  ]| a large, dull mansion which$6#1$ at this
115:196,02['  ]| period of the year was shrouded in$4$ silence and brown
115:196,03['  ]| holland; but he bethought himself that$3$, 
115:196,03@b   | the cook
115:196,04@b   | being at Gardencourt, there was no*one in$4$ the house
115:196,05@b   | to$9$ get them their meals, 
115:196,05['  ]| and Pratt's Hotel accordingly
115:196,06['  ]| became their resting-place.  Ralph, on$4$ his side,
115:196,07['  ]| found quarters in$4$ Winchester*Square, having a "den"
115:196,08['  ]| there of which$6#1$ he was very fond and being familiar
115:196,09['  ]| with deeper fears than that$6#2$ of a cold kitchen.  He
115:196,10['  ]| availed himself largely indeed of the resources of
115:196,11['  ]| Pratt's*Hotel, beginning his day with an early visit
115:196,12['  ]| to$4$ his fellow travellers, who$6#1$ had Mr%*Pratt in$4$ person,
115:196,13['  ]| in$4$ a large bulging white waistcoat, to$9$ remove their dishcovers.
115:196,14['  ]| Ralph turned up$5$, as he said, after breakfast,
115:196,15['  ]| and the little party made out a scheme of entertainment
115:196,16['  ]| for$4$ the day.  As London wears in$4$ the month of
115:196,17['  ]| September a face blank but for$4$ its smears of prior
115:196,18['  ]| service, the young man, who$6#1$ occasionally took an
115:196,19['  ]| apologetic tone, was obliged to$9$ remind his companion,
115:196,20['  ]| to$4$ Miss*Stackpole's high derision, that$3$ 
115:196,20@b   | there was not
115:196,21@b   | a creature in$4$ town.
115:196,22[I  ]| "I suppose you mean the aristocracy are absent,"
115:196,23['  ]| Henrietta answered; 
115:196,23[I  ]| "but I do not think you could
115:196,24[I  ]| have a better proof that$3$ if they were absent altogether
115:196,25[I  ]| they would not be missed.  It seems to$4$ me the place
115:196,26[I  ]| is about as full as it can be.  There is no*one here, of
115:196,27[I  ]| course, but three or four millions of people.  What is 
115:196,28[I  ]| it you call them ~~ the lower-middle class?  They are
115:196,29[I  ]| only the population of London, and that$6#2$ is of no$2$ consequence."
115:196,30[I  ]| 
115:196,31['  ]| Ralph declared that$3$ 
115:196,31@b   | for$4$ him the aristocracy left no$2$
115:196,32@b   | void that$6#1$ Miss*Stackpole herself did not fill, and that$3$
115:197,01@b   | a more contented man was nowhere at that$6#2$ moment
115:197,02@b   | to$9$ be found.  
115:197,02['  ]| In$4$ this he spoke the truth, for$4$ the stale
115:197,03['  ]| September days, in$4$ the huge half-empty town, had
115:197,04['  ]| a charm wrapped in$4$ them as a coloured gem might 
115:197,05['  ]| be wrapped in$4$ a dusty cloth.  When he went home at 
115:197,06['  ]| night to$4$ the empty house in$4$ Winchester*Square, after
115:197,07['  ]| a chain of hours with his comparatively ardent
115:197,08['  ]| friends, he wandered into the big dusky dining-room,
115:197,09['  ]| where the candle he took from the hall-table, after
115:197,10['  ]| letting himself in$5$, constituted the only illumination.
115:197,11['  ]| The square was still, the house was still; when he
115:197,12['  ]| raised one of the windows of the dining-room to$9$ let
115:197,13['  ]| in$4$ the air he heard the slow creak of the boots of a lone
115:197,14['  ]| constable.  His own step, in$4$ the empty place, seemed
115:197,15['  ]| loud and sonorous; some of the carpets had been
115:197,16['  ]| raised, and whenever he moved he roused a melancholy 
115:197,17['  ]| echo.  He sat down in$4$ one of the armchairs;
115:197,18['  ]| the big dark dining table twinkled here and there
115:197,19['  ]| in$4$ the small candle-light; the pictures on$4$ the wall, all
115:197,20['  ]| of them very brown, looked vague and incoherent.
115:197,21['  ]| There was a ghostly presence as of dinners long since
115:197,22['  ]| digested, of table-talk that$6#1$ had lost its actuality.  This
115:197,23['  ]| hint of the supernatural perhaps had something to$9$ do
115:197,24['  ]| with the fact that$3$ his imagination took a flight and
115:197,25['  ]| that$3$ he remained in$4$ his chair a long time beyond the
115:197,26['  ]| hour at which$6#1$ he should have been in$4$ bed; doing
115:197,27['  ]| nothing, not even reading the evening paper.  I say
115:197,28['  ]| he did nothing, and I maintain the phrase in$4$ the face
115:197,29['  ]| of the fact that$3$ he thought at these moments of Isabel.
115:197,30['  ]| To$9$ think of Isabel could only be for$4$ him an idle pursuit,
115:197,31['  ]| leading to$4$ nothing and profiting little to$4$ any*one.
115:197,32['  ]| His cousin had not yet seemed to$4$ him so$5#1$ charming 
115:198,01['  ]| as during these days spent in$4$ sounding, tourist-fashion,
115:198,02['  ]| the deeps and shallows of the metropolitan
115:198,03['  ]| element.  Isabel was full of premises, conclusions,
115:198,04['  ]| emotions; if she had come in$4$ search of local colour she
115:198,05['  ]| found it everywhere.  She asked more questions than
115:198,06['  ]| he could answer, and launched brave theories, as to$4$
115:198,07['  ]| historic cause and social effect, that$6#1$ he was equally
115:198,08['  ]| unable to$9$ accept or to$9$ refute.  The party went more
115:198,09['  ]| than once to$4$ the British*Museum and to$4$ that$6#2$ brighter
115:198,10['  ]| palace of art which$6#1$ reclaims for$4$ antique variety so$5#1$
115:198,11['  ]| large an area of a monotonous suburb; they spent
115:198,12['  ]| a morning in$4$ the Abbey and went on$4$ a penny-steamer
115:198,13['  ]| to$4$ the Tower; they looked at pictures both in$4$ public
115:198,14['  ]| and private collections and sat on$4$ various occasions
115:198,15['  ]| beneath the great trees in$4$ Kensington*Gardens.
115:198,16['  ]| Henrietta proved an indestructible sight-seer and
115:198,17['  ]| a more lenient judge than Ralph had ventured to$9$
115:198,18['  ]| hope.  She had indeed many disappointments, and
115:198,19['  ]| London at large suffered from her vivid remembrance
115:198,20['  ]| of the strong points of the American civic idea; but
115:198,21['  ]| she made the best of its dingy dignities and only
115:198,22['  ]| heaved an occasional sigh and uttered a desultory
115:198,23[I  ]| "Well!" 
115:198,23['  ]| which$6#1$ led no$2$ further and lost itself in$4$ retrospect.
115:198,24['  ]| The truth was that$3$, as she said herself, 
115:198,24@i   | she
115:198,25@i   | was not in$4$ her element.  
115:198,25[I  ]| "I have not a sympathy with
115:198,26[I  ]| inanimate objects," 
115:198,26['  ]| she remarked to$4$ Isabel at the
115:198,27['  ]| National*Gallery; and she continued to$9$ suffer from
115:198,28['  ]| the meagreness of the glimpse that$6#1$ had as yet been
115:198,29['  ]| vouchsafed to$4$ her of the inner life.  Landscapes by$4$
115:198,30['  ]| Turner and Assyrian bulls were a poor substitute
115:198,31['  ]| for$4$ the literary dinner-parties at which$6#1$ she had hoped
115:198,32['  ]| to$9$ meet the genius and renown of Great*Britain.
115:199,01[I  ]| "Where are your public men, where are your men
115:199,02[I  ]| and women of intellect?" 
115:199,02['  ]| she enquired of Ralph,
115:199,03['  ]| standing in$4$ the middle of Trafalgar Square as if she
115:199,04['  ]| had supposed this to$9$ be a place where she would
115:199,05['  ]| naturally meet a few.  
115:199,05[I  ]| "That$6#2$ is one of them on$4$ the top
115:199,06[I  ]| of the column, you say ~~ Lord*Nelson?  Was he a
115:199,07[I  ]| lord too?  Was not he high enough, that$3$ they had to$9$ 
115:199,08[I  ]| stick him a hundred feet in$4$ the air?  That$6#2$ is the past ~~
115:199,09[I  ]| I do not care about the past; I want to$9$ see some of
115:199,10[I  ]| the leading minds of the present.  I will$1$ not say of the
115:199,11[I  ]| future, because I do not believe much in$4$ your future."
115:199,12['  ]| Poor Ralph had few leading minds among his acquaintance
115:199,13['  ]| and rarely enjoyed the pleasure of button-holing
115:199,14['  ]| a celebrity; a state of things which$6#1$ appeared
115:199,15['  ]| to$4$ Miss*Stackpole to$9$ indicate a deplorable want of
115:199,16['  ]| enterprise.  
115:199,16[I  ]| "If I were on$4$ the other side I should call,"
115:199,17['  ]| she said, 
115:199,17[I  ]| "and tell the gentleman, whoever he might
115:199,18[I  ]| be, that$3$ I had heard a great deal about him and had
115:199,19[I  ]| come to$9$ see for$4$ myself.  But I gather from what you
115:199,20[I  ]| say that$3$ this is not the custom here.  You seem to$9$
115:199,21[I  ]| have plenty of meaningless customs, but none of those
115:199,22[I  ]| that$6#1$ would help along.  We \are\ in$4$ advance, certainly.
115:199,23[I  ]| I suppose I shall have to$9$ give up$5$ the social side altogether;"
115:199,24['  ]| and Henrietta, though she went about with
115:199,25['  ]| her guidebook and pencil and wrote a letter to$4$ the 
115:199,26['  ]| \Interviewer\ about the Tower (in$4$ which$6#1$ she described
115:199,27['  ]| the execution of Lady*Jane*Grey), had a sad sense of
115:199,28['  ]| falling below her mission.
115:199,29['  ]| The incident that$6#1$ had preceded Isabel's departure
115:199,30['  ]| from Gardencourt left a painful trace in$4$ our young
115:199,31['  ]| woman's mind: when she felt again in$4$ her face, as
115:199,32['  ]| from a recurrent wave, the cold breath of her last
115:200,01['  ]| suitor's surprise, she could only muffle her head till
115:200,02['  ]| the air cleared.  She could not have done less than
115:200,03['  ]| what she did; this was certainly true.  But her necessity,
115:200,04['  ]| all the same had been as graceless as some physical 
115:200,05['  ]| act in$4$ a strained attitude, and she felt no$2$ desire
115:200,06['  ]| to$9$ take credit for$4$ her conduct.  Mixed with this imperfect
115:200,07['  ]| pride, nevertheless, was a feeling of freedom
115:200,08['  ]| which$6#1$ in$4$ itself was sweet and which$6#1$, as she wandered
115:200,09['  ]| through the great city with her ill-matched companions,
115:200,10['  ]| occasionally throbbed into odd demonstrations.
115:200,11['  ]| When she walked in$4$ Kensington*Gardens she
115:200,12['  ]| stopped the children (mainly of the poorer sort)
115:200,13['  ]| whom she saw playing on$4$ the grass; she asked them
115:200,14['  ]| their names and gave them sixpence and, when they
115:200,15['  ]| were pretty, kissed them.  Ralph noticed these quaint
115:200,16['  ]| charities; he noticed everything she did.  One afternoon,
115:200,17['  ]| that$3$ his companions might pass the time, he
115:200,18['  ]| invited them to$4$ tea in$4$ Winchester*Square, and he
115:200,19['  ]| had the house set in$4$ order as much as possible for$4$
115:200,20['  ]| their visit.  There was another guest to$9$ meet them,
115:200,21['  ]| an amiable bachelor, an old friend of Ralph's who$6#1$
115:200,22['  ]| happened to$9$ be in$4$ town and for$4$ whom prompt commerce
115:200,23['  ]| with Miss*Stackpole appeared to$9$ have neither
115:200,24['  ]| difficulty nor dread.  Mr*Bantling, a stout, sleek,
115:200,25['  ]| smiling man of forty, wonderfully dressed, universally
115:200,26['  ]| informed and incoherently amused, laughed
115:200,27['  ]| immoderately at everything Henrietta said, gave
115:200,28['  ]| her several cups of tea, examined in$4$ her society the
115:200,29['  ]| \9bric-a`-brac\, of which$6#1$ Ralph had a considerable collection,
115:200,30['  ]| and afterwards, when the host proposed
115:200,31['  ]| they should go out into the square and pretend
115:200,32['  ]| it was a \9fe^te-champe^tre\, walked round the limited
115:201,01['  ]| enclosure several times with her and, at a dozen
115:201,02['  ]| turns of their talk, bounded responsive ~~ as with
115:201,03['  ]| a positive passion for$4$ argument ~~ to$4$ her remarks
115:201,04['  ]| upon$4$ the inner life.
115:201,05[W  ]| "Oh, I see; I dare say you found it very quiet at
115:201,06[W  ]| Gardencourt.  Naturally there is not much going on$5$
115:201,07[W  ]| there when there is such a lot of illness about.  Touchett is
115:201,08[W  ]| very bad, you know; the doctors have forbidden
115:201,09[W  ]| his being in$4$ England at all, and he has only come back
115:201,10[W  ]| to$9$ take care of his father.  The old man, I believe, has
115:201,11[W  ]| half a dozen things the matter with him.  They call
115:201,12[W  ]| it gout, but to$4$ my certain knowledge he has organic
115:201,13[W  ]| disease so$5#1$ developed that$3$ you may depend upon$4$ it
115:201,14[W  ]| he will$1$ go, some day soon, quite quickly.  Of course
115:201,15[W  ]| that$6#2$ sort of thing makes a dreadfully dull house; I
115:201,16[W  ]| wonder they have people when they can do so$5#1$ little
115:201,17[W  ]| for$4$ them.  Then I believe Mr%*Touchett is always
115:201,18[W  ]| squabbling with his wife; she lives away from her
115:201,19[W  ]| husband, you know, in$4$ that$6#2$ extraordinary American
115:201,20[W  ]| way of yours.  If you want a house where there is
115:201,21[W  ]| always something going on$5$, I recommend you to$9$ go
115:201,22[W  ]| down and stay with my sister, Lady*Pensil, in$4$ Bedfordshire.
115:201,23[W  ]| I will$1$ write to$4$ her to-morrow and I am sure
115:201,24[W  ]| she will$1$ be delighted to$9$ ask you.  I know just what you
115:201,25[W  ]| want ~~ you want a house where they go in$5$ for$4$ 
115:201,26[W  ]| theatricals and picnics and that$6#2$ sort of thing.  My
115:201,27[W  ]| sister is just that$6#2$ sort of woman; she is always getting
115:201,28[W  ]| up$5$ something or other and she is always glad to$9$ have
115:201,29[W  ]| the sort of people who$6#1$ help her.  I am sure she will$1$ ask
115:201,30[W  ]| you down by$4$ return of post: she is tremendously
115:201,31[W  ]| fond of distinguished people and writers.  She writes
115:201,32[W  ]| herself, you know; but I have not read everything
115:202,01[W  ]| she has written.  It is usually poetry, and I do not go
115:202,02[W  ]| in$5$ much for$4$ poetry ~~ unless it is Byron.  I suppose
115:202,03[W  ]| you think a great deal of Byron in$4$ America," 
115:202,03['  ]| Mr%*Bantling
115:202,04['  ]| continued, expanding in$4$ the stimulating
115:202,05['  ]| air of Miss*Stackpole's attention, bringing up$5$ his
115:202,06['  ]| sequences promptly and changing his topic with an
115:202,07['  ]| easy turn of hand.  Yet he none the less gracefully
115:202,08['  ]| kept in$4$ sight of the idea, dazzling to$4$ Henrietta, of
115:202,09['  ]| her going to$9$ stay with Lady*Pensil in$4$ Bedfordshire.
115:202,10[W  ]| "I understand what you want; you want to$9$ see
115:202,11[W  ]| some genuine English sport.  The Touchetts are not
115:202,12[W  ]| English at all, you know; they have their own
115:202,13[W  ]| habits, their own language, their own food ~~ some
115:202,14[W  ]| odd religion even, I believe, of their own.  The old
115:202,15[W  ]| man thinks it is wicked to$9$ hunt, I am told.  You
115:202,16[W  ]| must get down to$4$ my sister's in$4$ time for$4$ the theatricals,
115:202,17[W  ]| and I am sure she will$1$ be glad to$9$ give you a part.
115:202,18[W  ]| I am sure you act well; I know you are very clever.
115:202,19[W  ]| My sister is forty years old and has seven children,
115:202,20[W  ]| but she is going to$9$ play the principal part.  Plain
115:202,21[W  ]| as she is she makes up$5$ awfully well ~~ I \will$1$\ say
115:202,22[W  ]| for$4$ her.  Of course you need not act if you do not
115:202,23[W  ]| want to$9$."
115:202,24['  ]| In$4$ this manner Mr%*Bantling delivered himself
115:202,25['  ]| while they strolled over the grass in$4$ Winchester
115:202,26['  ]| Square, which$6#1$, although it had been peppered by$4$ the
115:202,27['  ]| London soot, invited the tread to$9$ linger.  Henrietta
115:202,28['  ]| thought her blooming, easy-voiced bachelor, with his
115:202,29['  ]| impressibility to$4$ feminine merit and his splendid
115:202,30['  ]| range of suggestion, a very agreeable man, and she
115:202,31['  ]| valued the opportunity he offered her.  
115:202,31[I  ]| "I do not know
115:202,32[I  ]| but I \would\ go, if your sister should ask me.  I think
115:203,01[I  ]| it would be my duty.  What do you call her
115:203,02[I  ]| name?"
115:203,03[W  ]| "Pensil.  It is an odd name, but it is not a bad one."
115:203,04[I  ]| "I think one name is as good as another.  But 
115:203,05[I  ]| what is her rank?"
115:203,06[W  ]| "Oh, she is a baron's wife; a convenient sort of
115:203,07[W  ]| rank.  You are fine enough and you are not too fine."
115:203,08[I  ]| "I do not know but what she would be too fine for$4$ me.
115:203,09[I  ]| What do you call the place she lives in$4$ ~~ Bedfordshire?"
115:203,10[I  ]| 
115:203,11[W  ]| "She lives away in$4$ the northern corner of it.  It is
115:203,12[W  ]| a tiresome country, but I dare say you will$1$ not mind it.
115:203,13[W  ]| I will$1$ try and run down while you are there."
115:203,14['  ]| All this was very pleasant to$4$ Miss*Stackpole, and
115:203,15['  ]| she was sorry to$9$ be obliged to$9$ separate from Lady*Pensil's
115:203,16['  ]| obliging brother.  But it happened that$3$ she
115:203,17['  ]| had met the day before, in$4$ Piccadilly, some friends
115:203,18['  ]| whom she had not seen for$4$ a year: the Miss*Climbers,
115:203,19['  ]| two ladies from Wilmington, Delaware, who$6#1$ had
115:203,20['  ]| been travelling on$4$ the Continent and were now preparing
115:203,21['  ]| to$9$ re-embark.  Henrietta had had a long interview 
115:203,22['  ]| with them on$4$ the Piccadilly pavement, and
115:203,23['  ]| though the three ladies all talked at once they had not
115:203,24['  ]| exhausted their store.  It had been agreed therefore
115:203,25['  ]| that$3$ Henrietta should come and dine with them in$4$ their
115:203,26['  ]| lodgings in$4$ Jermyn*Street at six o'clock on$4$ the morrow,
115:203,27['  ]| and she now bethought herself of this engagement.
115:203,28['  ]| She prepared to$9$ start for$4$ Jermyn*Street, taking
115:203,29['  ]| leave first of Ralph*Touchett and Isabel, who$6#1$, seated
115:203,30['  ]| on$4$ garden chairs in$4$ another part of the enclosure,
115:203,31['  ]| were occupied ~~ if the term may be used ~~ with an
115:203,32['  ]| exchange of amenities less pointed than the practical
115:204,01['  ]| colloquy of Miss*Stackpole and Mr%*Bantling.  When
115:204,02['  ]| it had been settled between Isabel and her friend
115:204,03['  ]| that$3$ they should be reunited at some reputable hour
115:204,04['  ]| at Pratt's*Hotel, Ralph remarked that$3$ 
115:204,04@b   | the latter must
115:204,05@b   | have a cab.  She could not walk all the way to$4$ Jermyn*Street.
115:204,06@b   | 
115:204,07[I  ]| "I suppose you mean it is improper for$4$ me to$9$ walk
115:204,08[I  ]| alone!" 
115:204,08['  ]| Henrietta exclaimed.  
115:204,08[I  ]| "Merciful powers,
115:204,09[I  ]| have I come to$4$ this?"
115:204,10[W  ]| "There is not the slightest need of your walking
115:204,11[W  ]| alone," 
115:204,11['  ]| Mr%*Bantling gaily interposed.  
115:204,11[W  ]| "I should
115:204,12[W  ]| be greatly pleased to$9$ go with you."
115:204,13[B  ]| "I simply meant that$3$ you would be late for$4$ dinner,"
115:204,14['  ]| Ralph returned.  
115:204,14[B  ]| "Those poor ladies may easily believe
115:204,15[B  ]| that$3$ we refuse, at the last, to$9$ spare you."
115:204,16[A  ]| "You had better have a hansom, Henrietta," 
115:204,16['  ]| said
115:204,17['  ]| Isabel.
115:204,18[W  ]| "I will$1$ get you a hansom if you will$1$ trust me," 
115:204,18['  ]| Mr%*Bantling
115:204,19['  ]| went on$5$.  
115:204,19[W  ]| "We might walk a little till we
115:204,20[W  ]| meet one."
115:204,21[I  ]| "I do not see why I should not trust him, do \you\?"
115:204,22['  ]| Henrietta enquired of Isabel.
115:204,23[A  ]| "I do not see what Mr%*Bantling could do to$4$ you,"
115:204,24['  ]| Isabel obligingly answered; 
115:204,24[A  ]| "but, if you like$1$, we will$1$
115:204,25[A  ]| walk with you till you find your cab."
115:204,26[I  ]| "Never mind; we will$1$ go alone.  Come on$5$, Mr%*Bantling,
115:204,27[I  ]| and take care you get me a good one."
115:204,28['  ]| Mr%*Bantling promised to$9$ do his best, and the two
115:204,29['  ]| took their departure, leaving the girl and her cousin
115:204,30['  ]| together in$4$ the square, over which$6#1$ a clear September
115:204,31['  ]| twilight had now begun to$9$ gather.  It was perfectly
115:204,32['  ]| still; the wide quadrangle of dusky houses showed
115:205,01['  ]| lights in$4$ none of the windows, where the shutters and
115:205,02['  ]| blinds were closed; the pavements were a vacant
115:205,03['  ]| expanse, and, putting aside two small children from
115:205,04['  ]| a neighbouring slum, who$6#1$, attracted by$4$ symptoms
115:205,05['  ]| of abnormal animation in$4$ the interior, poked their
115:205,06['  ]| faces between the rusty rails of the enclosure, the
115:205,07['  ]| most vivid object within sight was the big red pillar-post
115:205,08['  ]| on$4$ the southeast corner.
115:205,09[B  ]| "Henrietta will$1$ ask him to$9$ get into the cab and go
115:205,10[B  ]| with her to$4$ Jermyn Street," 
115:205,10['  ]| Ralph observed.  He
115:205,11['  ]| always spoke of Miss*Stackpole as Henrietta.
115:205,12[A  ]| "Very possibly," 
115:205,12['  ]| said his companion.
115:205,13[B  ]| "Or rather, no$7$, she will$1$ not," 
115:205,13['  ]| he went on$5$.  
115:205,13[B  ]| "But
115:205,14[B  ]| Bantling will$1$ ask leave to$9$ get in$5$."
115:205,15[A  ]| "Very likely again.  I am glad very they are such
115:205,16[A  ]| good friends."
115:205,17[B  ]| "She has made a conquest.  He thinks her a brilliant
115:205,18[B  ]| woman.  It may go far," 
115:205,18['  ]| said Ralph.
115:205,19['  ]| Isabel was briefly silent.  
115:205,19[A  ]| "I call Henrietta a very
115:205,20[A  ]| brilliant woman, but I do not think it will$1$ go far.  They
115:205,21[A  ]| would never really know each other.  He has not the
115:205,22[A  ]| least idea what she really is, and she has no$2$ just comprehension
115:205,23[A  ]| of Mr%*Bantling."
115:205,24[B  ]| "There is no$2$ more usual basis of union than a
115:205,25[B  ]| mutual misunderstanding.  But it ought not to$9$ be so$5#1$
115:205,26[B  ]| difficult to$9$ understand Bob*Bantling," 
115:205,26['  ]| Ralph added.
115:205,27[B  ]| "He is a very simple organism."
115:205,28[A  ]| "Yes, but Henrietta is a simpler one still.  And, pray,
115:205,29[A  ]| what am I to$9$ do?" 
115:205,29['  ]| Isabel asked, looking about her
115:205,30['  ]| through the fading light, in$4$ which$6#1$ the limited landscape-gardening
115:205,31['  ]| of the square took on$5$ a large and 
115:205,32['  ]| effective appearance.  
115:205,32[A  ]| "I do not imagine that$3$ you will$1$
115:206,01[A  ]| propose that$3$ you and I, for$4$ our amusement, shall
115:206,02[A  ]| drive about London in$4$ a hansom."
115:206,03[B  ]| "There is no$2$ reason we should not stay here ~~ if
115:206,04[B  ]| you do not dislike it.  It is very warm; there will$1$ be
115:206,05[B  ]| half an hour yet before dark; and if you permit it
115:206,06[B  ]| I will$1$ light a cigarette."
115:206,07[A  ]| "You may do what you please," 
115:206,07['  ]| said Isabel, 
115:206,07[A  ]| "if
115:206,08[A  ]| you will$1$ amuse me till seven o'clock.  I propose at that$6#2$
115:206,09[A  ]| hour to$9$ go back and partake of a simple and solitary
115:206,10[A  ]| repast ~~ two poached eggs and a muffin ~~ at Pratt's*Hotel."
115:206,11[A  ]| 
115:206,12[B  ]| "May not I dine with you?" 
115:206,12['  ]| Ralph asked.
115:206,13[A  ]| "No$7$, you will$1$ dine at your club."
115:206,14['  ]| They had wandered back to$4$ their chairs in$4$ the
115:206,15['  ]| centre of the square again, and Ralph had lighted his
115:206,16['  ]| cigarette.  It would have given him extreme pleasure
115:206,17['  ]| to$9$ be present in$4$ person at the modest little feast she
115:206,18['  ]| had sketched; but in$4$ default of this he liked even
115:206,19['  ]| being forbidden.  For$4$ the moment, however, he liked
115:206,20['  ]| immensely being alone with her, in$4$ the thickening
115:206,21['  ]| dusk, in$4$ the centre of the multitudinous town; 
115:206,21@b   | it made
115:206,22@b   | her seem to$9$ depend upon$4$ him and to$9$ be in$4$ his power.
115:206,23@b   | This power he could exert but vaguely; the best exercise
115:206,24@b   | of it was to$9$ accept her decisions submissively ~~
115:206,25['  ]| which$6#1$ indeed there was already an emotion in$4$ doing.
115:206,26[B  ]| "Why will$1$ not you let me dine with you?" 
115:206,26['  ]| he demanded
115:206,27['  ]| after a pause.
115:206,28[A  ]| "Because I do not care for$4$ it."
115:206,29[B  ]| "I suppose you are tired of me."
115:206,30[A  ]| "I shall be an hour hence.  You see I have the gift
115:206,31[A  ]| of foreknowledge."
115:206,32[B  ]| "Oh, I shall be delightful meanwhile," 
115:206,31['  ]| said Ralph.
115:207,01['  ]| But he said nothing more, and as she made no$2$ rejoinder
115:207,02['  ]| they sat some time in$4$ a stillness which$6#1$ seemed
115:207,03['  ]| to$9$ contradict his promise of entertainment.  It seemed
115:207,04['  ]| to$4$ him she was preoccupied, and he wondered 
115:207,04@b   | what
115:207,05@b   | she was thinking about; there were two or three very
115:207,06@b   | possible subjects.  
115:207,06['  ]| At last he spoke again.  
115:207,06[B  ]| "Is your
115:207,07[B  ]| objection to$4$ my society this evening caused by$4$ your
115:207,08[B  ]| expectation of another visitor?"
115:207,09['  ]| She turned her head with a glance of her clear, fair
115:207,10['  ]| eyes.  
115:207,10[A  ]| "Another visitor?  What visitor should I have?"
115:207,11['  ]| He had none to$9$ suggest; which$6#1$ made his question
115:207,12['  ]| seem to$4$ himself silly as well as brutal.  
115:207,12[B  ]| "You have a
115:207,13[B  ]| great many friends that$6#1$ I do not know.  You have a whole
115:207,14[B  ]| past from which$6#1$ I was perversely excluded."
115:207,15[A  ]| "You were reserved for$4$ my future.  You must remember
115:207,16[A  ]| that$3$ my past is over there across the water.
115:207,17[A  ]| There is none of it here in$4$ London."
115:207,18[B  ]| "Very good, then, since your future is seated beside
115:207,19[B  ]| you.  Capital thing to$9$ have your future so$5#1$ handy."
115:207,20['  ]| And Ralph lighted another cigarette and reflected that$3$
115:207,21@b   | Isabel probably meant she had received news that$3$
115:207,22@b   | Mr%*Caspar*Goodwood had crossed to$4$ Paris.  
115:207,22['  ]| After
115:207,23['  ]| he had lighted his cigarette he puffed it a while, and
115:207,24['  ]| then he resumed.   
115:207,24[B  ]| "I promised just now to$9$ be very
115:207,25[B  ]| amusing; but you see I do not come up$5$ to$4$ the mark,
115:207,26[B  ]| and the fact is there is a good deal of temerity in$4$ one's
115:207,27[B  ]| undertaking to$9$ amuse a person like$4$ you.  What do you
115:207,28[B  ]| care for$4$ my feeble attempts?  You have grand ideas ~~
115:207,29[B  ]| you have a high standard in$4$ such matters.  I ought at
115:207,30[B  ]| least to$9$ bring in$4$ a band of music or a company of 
115:207,31[B  ]| mountebanks."
115:207,32[A  ]| "One mountebank is enough, and you do very well.
115:208,01[A  ]| Pray go on$5$, and in$4$ another ten minutes I shall begin
115:208,02[A  ]| to$9$ laugh."
115:208,03[B  ]| "I assure you I am very serious," 
115:208,03['  ]| said Ralph.  
115:208,03[B  ]| "You
115:208,04[B  ]| do really ask a great deal."
115:208,05[A  ]| "I do not know what you mean.  I ask nothing!"
115:208,06[B  ]| "You accept nothing," 
115:208,06['  ]| said Ralph.  She coloured,
115:208,07['  ]| and now suddenly it seemed to$4$ her that$3$ 
115:208,07@a   | she guessed
115:208,08@a   | his meaning. But why should he speak to$4$ her of such
115:208,09@a   | things?  
115:208,09['  ]| He hesitated a little and then he continued:
115:208,10[B  ]| "There is something I should like$1$ very much to$9$ say
115:208,11[B  ]| to$4$ you.  It is a question I wish to$9$ ask.  It seems to$4$ me
115:208,12[B  ]| I have a right to$9$ ask it, because I have a kind of interest
115:208,13[B  ]| in$4$ the answer."
115:208,14[A  ]| "Ask what you will$1$," 
115:208,14['  ]| Isabel replied gently, 
115:208,14[A  ]| "and
115:208,15[A  ]| I will$1$ try to$9$ satisfy you."
115:208,16[B  ]| "Well then, I hope you will$1$ not mind my saying that$3$
115:208,17[B  ]| Warburton has told me of something that$6#1$ has passed
115:208,18[B  ]| between you."
115:208,19['  ]| Isabel suppressed a start; she sat looking at her
115:208,20['  ]| open fan.  
115:208,20[A  ]| "Very good; I suppose it was natural he
115:208,21[A  ]| should tell you."
115:208,22[B  ]| "I have his leave to$9$ let you know he has done so$5#2$.
115:208,23[B  ]| He has some hope still," 
115:208,23['  ]| said Ralph.
115:208,24[A  ]| "Still?"
115:208,25[B  ]| "He had it a few days ago."
115:208,26[A  ]| "I do not believe he has any now," 
115:208,26['  ]| said the girl.
115:208,27[B  ]| "I am very sorry for$4$ him then; he is such an honest
115:208,28[B  ]| man."
115:208,29[A  ]| "Pray, did he ask you to$9$ talk to$4$ me?"
115:208,30[B  ]| "No$7$, not that$6#2$.  But he told me because he could not
115:208,31[B  ]| help it.  We are old friends, and he was greatly disappointed.
115:208,32[B  ]| He sent me a line asking me to$9$ come and see
115:209,01[B  ]| him, and I drove over to$4$ Lockleigh the day before he
115:209,02[B  ]| and his sister lunched with us.  He was very heavy-hearted;
115:209,03[B  ]| he had just got a letter from you."
115:209,04[A  ]| "Did he show you the letter?" 
115:209,04['  ]| asked Isabel with
115:209,05['  ]| momentary loftiness.
115:209,06[B  ]| "By$4$ no$2$ means.  But he told me it was a neat
115:209,07[B  ]| refusal.  I was very sorry for$4$ him," 
115:209,07['  ]| Ralph repeated.
115:209,08['  ]| For$4$ some moments Isabel said nothing; then at
115:209,09['  ]| last, 
115:209,09[A  ]| "Do you know how often he had seen me?"
115:209,10['  ]| she enquired.  
115:209,10[A  ]| "Five or six times."
115:209,11[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is to$4$ your glory."
115:209,12[A  ]| "It is not for$4$ that$6#2$ I say it."
115:209,13[B  ]| "What then do you say it for$4$?  Not to$9$ prove that$3$
115:209,14[B  ]| poor Warburton's state of mind is superficial, because
115:209,15[B  ]| I am pretty sure you do not think that$6#2$."
115:209,16['  ]| Isabel certainly was unable to$9$ say she thought it;
115:209,17['  ]| but presently she said something else.  
115:209,17[A  ]| "If you have not
115:209,18[A  ]| been requested by$4$ Lord*Warburton to$9$ argue with me,
115:209,19[A  ]| then you are doing it disinterestedly ~~ or for$4$ the love 
115:209,20[A  ]| of argument."
115:209,21[B  ]| "I have no$2$ wish to$9$ argue with you at all.  I only wish
115:209,22[B  ]| to$9$ leave you alone.  I am simply greatly interested in$4$
115:209,23[B  ]| your own sentiments."
115:209,24[A  ]| "I am greatly obliged to$4$ you!" 
115:209,24['  ]| cried Isabel with
115:209,25['  ]| a slightly nervous laugh.
115:209,26[B  ]| "Of course you mean that$3$ I am meddling in$4$ what
115:209,27[B  ]| does not concern me.  But why should not I speak to$4$
115:209,28[B  ]| you of this matter without annoying you or embarrassing 
115:209,29[B  ]| myself?  What is the use of being your cousin
115:209,30[B  ]| if I can not have a few privileges?  What is the use of
115:209,31[B  ]| adoring you without hope of a reward if I can not have
115:209,32[B  ]| a few compensations?  What is the use of being ill
115:210,01[B  ]| and disabled and restricted to$4$ mere spectatorship at
115:210,02[B  ]| the game of life if I really can not see the show when I have
115:210,03[B  ]| paid so$5#1$ much for$4$ my ticket?  Tell me this," 
115:210,03['  ]| Ralph
115:210,04['  ]| went on$5$ while she listened to$4$ him with quickened attention.
115:210,05[B  ]| "What had you in$4$ mind when you refused
115:210,06[B  ]| Lord*Warburton?"
115:210,07[A  ]| "What had I in$4$ mind?"
115:210,08[B  ]| "What was the logic ~~ the view of your situation
115:210,09[B  ]| ~~ that$6#1$ dictated so$5#1$ remarkable an act?"
115:210,10[A  ]| "I did not wish to$9$ marry him ~~ if that$6#2$ is logic."
115:210,11[B  ]| "No$7$, that$6#2$ is not logic ~~ and I knew that$6#2$ before.
115:210,12[B  ]| It is really nothing, you know.  What was it you \said\
115:210,13[B  ]| to$4$ yourself?  You certainly said more than that$6#2$."
115:210,14['  ]| Isabel reflected a moment, then answered with a
115:210,15['  ]| question of her own.  
115:210,15[A  ]| "Why do you call it a remarkable
115:210,16[A  ]| act?  That$6#2$ is what your mother thinks too."
115:210,17[B  ]| "Warburton is such a thorough good sort; as a man,
115:210,18[B  ]| I consider he has hardly a fault.  And then he is what
115:210,19[B  ]| they call here no$2$ end of a swell.  He has immense
115:210,20[B  ]| possessions, and his wife would be thought a superior
115:210,21[B  ]| being.  He unites the intrinsic and the extrinsic
115:210,22[B  ]| advantages."
115:210,23['  ]| Isabel watched her cousin as to$9$ see how far he
115:210,24['  ]| would go.  
115:210,24[A  ]| "I refused him because he was too perfect
115:210,25[A  ]| then.  I am not perfect myself, and he is too good for$4$
115:210,26[A  ]| me.  Besides, his perfection would irritate me."
115:210,27[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is ingenious rather than candid," 
115:210,27['  ]| said Ralph.
115:210,28[B  ]| "As a fact you think nothing in$4$ the world too perfect
115:210,29[B  ]| for$4$ you."
115:210,30[A  ]| "Do you think I am so$5#1$ good?"
115:210,31[B  ]| "No$7$, but you are exacting, all the same, without the
115:210,32[B  ]| excuse of thinking yourself good.  Nineteen women
115:211,01[B  ]| out of twenty, however, even of the most exacting sort,
115:211,02[B  ]| would have managed to$9$ do with Warburton.  Perhaps
115:211,03[B  ]| you do not know how he has been stalked."
115:211,04[A  ]| "I do not wish to$9$ know.  But it seems to$4$ me," 
115:211,04['  ]| said
115:211,05['  ]| Isabel, 
115:211,05[A  ]| "that$3$ one day when we talked of him you
115:211,06[A  ]| mentioned odd things in$4$ him."
115:211,07['  ]| Ralph smokingly considered.  
115:211,07[B  ]| "I hope that$3$ what I
115:211,08[B  ]| said then had no$2$ weight with you; for$3$ they were not
115:211,09[B  ]| faults, the things I spoke of: they were simply peculiarities
115:211,10[B  ]| of his position.  If I had known he wished
115:211,11[B  ]| to$9$ marry you I would never have alluded to$4$ them.  I think
115:211,12[B  ]| I said that$3$ as regards that$6#2$ position he was rather a
115:211,13[B  ]| sceptic.  It would have been in$4$ your power to$9$ make
115:211,14[B  ]| him a believer."
115:211,15[A  ]| "I think not. I do not understand the matter, and
115:211,16[A  ]| I am not conscious of any mission of that$6#2$ sort.  You are
115:211,17[A  ]| evidently disappointed," 
115:211,17['  ]| Isabel added, looking at her
115:211,18['  ]| cousin with rueful gentleness.  
115:211,18[A  ]| "You would have liked me
115:211,19[A  ]| to$9$ make such a marriage."
115:211,20[B  ]| "Not in$4$ the least.  I am absolutely without a wish
115:211,21[B  ]| on$4$ the subject.  I do not pretend to$9$ advise you, and I
115:211,22[B  ]| content myself with watching you ~~ with the deepest
115:211,23[B  ]| interest."
115:211,24['  ]| She gave rather a conscious sigh.  
115:211,24[A  ]| "I wish I could
115:211,25[A  ]| be as interesting to$4$ myself as I am to$4$ you!"
115:211,26[B  ]| "There you are not candid again; you are extremely
115:211,27[B  ]| interesting to$4$ yourself.  Do you know, however," 
115:211,27['  ]| said
115:211,28['  ]| Ralph, 
115:211,28[B  ]| "that$3$ if you have really given Warburton his
115:211,29[B  ]| final answer I am rather glad it has been what it was.
115:211,30[B  ]| I do not mean I am glad for$4$ you, and still less of course
115:211,31[B  ]| for$4$ him.  I am glad for$4$ myself."
115:211,32[A  ]| "Are \you\ thinking of proposing to$4$ me?"
115:212,01[B  ]| "By$4$ no$2$ means.  From the point of view I speak of
115:212,02[B  ]| that$6#2$ would be fatal; I should kill the goose that$6#1$ supplies
115:212,03[B  ]| me with the material of my inimitable omelettes.
115:212,04[B  ]| I use that$6#2$ animal as the symbol of my insane illusions.
115:212,05[B  ]| What I mean is that$3$ I shall have the thrill of
115:212,06[B  ]| seeing what a young lady does who$6#1$ will$1$ not marry Lord*Warburton."
115:212,07[B  ]|
115:212,08[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is what your mother counts upon$4$ too," 
115:212,08['  ]| said
115:212,09['  ]| Isabel.
115:212,10[B  ]| "Ah, there will$1$ be plenty of spectators!  We shall
115:212,11[B  ]| hang on$5$ the rest of your career.  I shall not see all of
115:212,12[B  ]| it, but I shall probably see the most interesting years.
115:212,13[B  ]| Of course if you were to$9$ marry our friend you would still
115:212,14[B  ]| have a career ~~ a very decent, in$4$ fact a very brilliant
115:212,15[B  ]| one.  But relatively speaking it would be a little prosaic.
115:212,16[B  ]| It would be definitely marked out in$4$ advance;
115:212,17[B  ]| it would be wanting in$4$ the unexpected.  You know
115:212,18[B  ]| I am extremely fond of the unexpected, and now that$3$
115:212,19[B  ]| you have kept the game in$4$ your hands I depend on$4$
115:212,20[B  ]| your giving us some grand example of it."
115:212,21[A  ]| "I do not understand you very well," 
115:212,21['  ]| said Isabel,
115:212,22[A  ]| "but I do so$5#2$ well enough to$9$ be able to$9$ say that$3$ if you
115:212,23[A  ]| look for$4$ grand examples of anything from me I shall
115:212,24[A  ]| disappoint you."
115:212,25[B  ]| "You will$1$ do so$5#2$ only by$4$ disappointing yourself ~~
115:212,26[B  ]| and that$6#2$ will$1$ go hard with you!"
115:212,27['  ]| To$4$ this she made no$2$ direct reply; 
115:212,27@a   | there was an
115:212,28@a   | amount of truth in$4$ it that$6#1$ would bear consideration.
115:212,29['  ]| At last she said abruptly: 
115:212,29[A  ]| "I do not see what harm
115:212,30[A  ]| there is in$4$ my wishing not to$9$ tie myself.  I do not want
115:212,31[A  ]| to$9$ begin life by$4$ marrying.  There are other things
115:212,32[A  ]| a woman can do."
115:213,01[B  ]| "There is nothing she can do so$5#1$ well.  But you are
115:213,02[B  ]| of course so$5#1$ many-sided."
115:213,03[A  ]| "If one is two-sided it is enough," 
115:213,03['  ]| said Isabel.
115:213,04[B  ]| "You are the most charming of polygons!" 
115:213,04['  ]| her
115:213,05['  ]| companion broke out.  At a glance from his companion,
115:213,06['  ]| however, he became grave, and to$9$ prove it
115:213,07['  ]| went on$5$: 
115:213,07[B  ]| "You want to$9$ see life ~~ you will$1$ be hanged
115:213,08[B  ]| if you do not, as the young men say."
115:213,09[A  ]| "I do not think I want to$9$ see it as the young men
115:213,10[A  ]| want to$9$ see it.  But I do want to$9$ look about me."
115:213,11[B  ]| "You want to$9$ drain the cup of experience."
115:213,12[A  ]| "No$7$, I do not wish to$9$ touch the cup of experience.
115:213,13[A  ]| It is a poisoned drink!  I only want to$9$ see for$4$ myself."
115:213,14[B  ]| "You want to$9$ see, but not to$9$ feel," 
115:213,14['  ]| Ralph remarked.
115:213,15[A  ]| "I do not think that$3$ if one is a sentient being one can
115:213,16[A  ]| make the distinction.  I am a good deal like$4$ Henrietta.
115:213,17[A  ]| The other day when I asked her if she wished to$9$
115:213,18[A  ]| marry she said: 
115:213,18@i   | ""Not till I have seen Europe!""  
115:213,18[A  ]| I too
115:213,19[A  ]| do not wish to$9$ marry till I have seen Europe."
115:213,20[B  ]| "You evidently expect a crowned head will$1$ be 
115:213,21[B  ]| struck with you."
115:213,22[A  ]| "No$7$, that$6#2$ would be worse than marrying Lord*Warburton.
115:213,23[A  ]| But it is getting very dark," 
115:213,23['  ]| Isabel continued,
115:213,24[A  ]| "and I must go home."  
115:213,24['  ]| She rose from her
115:213,25['  ]| place, but Ralph only sat still and looked at her.
115:213,26['  ]| As he remained there she stopped, and they exchanged
115:213,27['  ]| a gaze that$6#1$ was full on$4$ either side, but especially
115:213,28['  ]| on$4$ Ralph's, of utterances too vague for$4$ words.
115:213,29[B  ]| "You have answered my question," 
115:213,29['  ]| he said at last.
115:213,30[B  ]| "You have told me what I wanted.  I am greatly obliged
115:213,31[B  ]| to$4$ you."
115:213,32[A  ]| "It seems to$4$ me I have told you very little."
115:214,01[B  ]| "You have told me the great thing: that$3$ the world
115:214,02[B  ]| interests you and that$3$ you want to$9$ throw yourself
115:214,03[B  ]| into it."
115:214,04['  ]| Her silvery eyes shone a moment in$4$ the dusk.  
115:214,04[A  ]| "I
115:214,05[A  ]| never said that$6#2$."
115:214,06[B  ]| "I think you meant it.  Do not repudiate it.  It is so$5#1$
115:214,07[B  ]| fine!"
115:214,08[A  ]| "I do not know what you are trying to$9$ fasten upon$4$
115:214,09[A  ]| me, for$3$ I am not in$4$ the least an adventurous spirit.
115:214,10[A  ]| Women are not like$4$ men."
115:214,11['  ]| Ralph slowly rose from his seat and they walked
115:214,12['  ]| together to$4$ the gate of the square.  
115:214,12[B  ]| "No$7$," 
115:214,12['  ]| he said;
115:214,13[B  ]| "women rarely boast of their courage.  Men do so$5#2$
115:214,14[B  ]| with a certain frequency."
115:214,15[A  ]| "Men have it to$9$ boast of!"
115:214,16[B  ]| "Women have it too.  You have a great deal."
115:214,17[A  ]| "Enough to$9$ go home in$4$ a cab to$4$ Pratt's*Hotel,
115:214,18[A  ]| but not more."
115:214,19['  ]| Ralph unlocked the gate, and after they had passed
115:214,20['  ]| out he fastened it.  
115:214,20[B  ]| "We will$1$ find your cab," 
115:214,20['  ]| he said;
115:214,21['  ]| and as they turned toward a neighbouring street in$4$
115:214,22['  ]| which$6#1$ this quest might avail he asked her again 
115:214,22@b   | if
115:214,23@b   | he might not see her safely to$4$ the inn.
115:214,24[A  ]| "By$4$ no$2$ means," 
115:214,24['  ]| she answered; 
115:214,24[A  ]| "you are very
115:214,25[A  ]| tired; you must go home and go to$4$ bed."
115:214,26['  ]| The cab was found, and he helped her into it,
115:214,27['  ]| standing a moment at the door.  
115:214,27[B  ]| "When people
115:214,28[B  ]| forget I am a poor creature I am often incommoded,"
115:214,29['  ]| he said.  
115:214,29[B  ]| "But it is worse when they remember it!"
116:215,01['  ]| She had had no$2$ hidden motive in$4$ wishing him not
116:215,02['  ]| to$9$ take her home; it simply struck her that$3$ 
116:215,02@a   | for$4$ some
116:215,03@a   | days past she had consumed an inordinate quantity
116:215,04@a   | of his time, 
116:215,04['  ]| and the independent spirit of the American
116:215,05['  ]| girl whom extravagance of aid places in$4$ an attitude
116:215,06['  ]| that$6#1$ she ends by$4$ finding "affected" had made
116:215,07['  ]| her decide that$3$ 
116:215,07@a   | for$4$ these few hours she must suffice
116:215,08@a   | to$4$ herself.  
116:215,08['  ]| She had moreover a great fondness for$4$
116:215,09['  ]| intervals of solitude, which$6#1$ since her arrival in$4$ England
116:215,10['  ]| had been but meagrely met.  It was a luxury
116:215,11['  ]| she could always command at home and she had
116:215,12['  ]| wittingly missed it.  That$6#2$ evening, however, an incident
116:215,13['  ]| occurred which$6#1$ ~~ had there been a critic to$9$
116:215,14['  ]| note it ~~ would have taken all colour from the theory
116:215,15['  ]| that$3$ the wish to$9$ be quite by$4$ herself had caused her
116:215,16['  ]| to$9$ dispense with her cousin's attendance.  Seated
116:215,17['  ]| toward nine o'clock in$4$ the dim illumination of Pratt's*Hotel 
116:215,18['  ]| and trying with the aid of two tall candles to$9$
116:215,19['  ]| lose herself in$4$ a volume she had brought from Gardencourt,
116:215,20['  ]| she succeeded only to$4$ the extent of reading
116:215,21['  ]| other words than those printed on$4$ the page ~~ words
116:215,22['  ]| that$6#1$ Ralph had spoken to$4$ her that$6#2$ afternoon.  Suddenly
116:215,23['  ]| the well-muffled knuckle of the waiter was
116:215,24['  ]| applied to$4$ the door, which$6#1$ presently gave way to$4$ his
116:215,25['  ]| exhibition, even as a glorious trophy, of the card of
116:215,26['  ]| a visitor.  When this memento had offered to$4$ her
116:215,27['  ]| fixed sight the name of Mr%*Caspar*Goodwood she
116:216,01['  ]| let the man stand before her without signifying her
116:216,02['  ]| wishes.
116:216,03[W  ]| "Shall I show the gentleman up$5$, ma'am?" 
116:216,03['  ]| he
116:216,04['  ]| asked with a slightly encouraging inflexion.
116:216,05['  ]| Isabel hesitated still and while she hesitated glanced
116:216,06['  ]| at the mirror.  
116:216,06[A  ]| "He may come in$5$," 
116:216,06['  ]| she said at last;
116:216,07['  ]| and waited for$4$ him not so$5#1$ much smoothing her hair
116:216,08['  ]| as girding her spirit.
116:216,09['  ]| Caspar*Goodwood was accordingly the next moment
116:216,10['  ]| shaking hands with her, but saying nothing till
116:216,11['  ]| the servant had left the room.  
116:216,11[E  ]| "Why did not you
116:216,12[E  ]| answer my letter?" 
116:216,12['  ]| he then asked in$4$ a quick, full,
116:216,13['  ]| slightly peremptory tone ~~ the tone of a man whose
116:216,14['  ]| questions were habitually pointed and who$6#1$ was capable
116:216,15['  ]| of much insistence.
116:216,16['  ]| She answered by$4$ a ready question,  
116:216,16[A  ]| "How did you
116:216,17[A  ]| know I was here?"
116:216,18[E  ]| "Miss*Stackpole let me know," 
116:216,18['  ]| said Caspar*Goodwood.
116:216,19[E  ]| "She told me you would probably be at home
116:216,20[E  ]| alone this evening and would be willing to$9$ see me."
116:216,21[A  ]| "Where did she see you ~~ to$9$ tell you that$6#2$?"
116:216,22[E  ]| "She did not see me; she wrote to$4$ me."
116:216,23['  ]| Isabel was silent; neither had sat down; they
116:216,24['  ]| stood there with an air of defiance, or at least of contention.
116:216,25[A  ]| "Henrietta never told me she was writing 
116:216,26[A  ]| to$4$ you," 
116:216,26['  ]| she said at last.  
116:216,26[A  ]| "This is not kind of her."
116:216,27[E  ]| "Is it so$5#1$ disagreeable to$4$ you to$9$ see me?" 
116:216,27['  ]| asked
116:216,28['  ]| the young man.
116:216,29[A  ]| "I did not expect it.  I do not like$1$ such surprises."
116:216,30[E  ]| "But you knew I was in$4$ town; it was natural we
116:216,31[E  ]| should meet."
116:216,32[A  ]| "Do you call this meeting?  I hoped I should not
116:217,01[A  ]| see you.  In$4$ so$5#1$ big a place as London it seemed very
116:217,02[A  ]| possible."
116:217,03[E  ]| "It was apparently repugnant to$4$ you even to$9$ write
116:217,04[E  ]| to$4$ me," 
116:217,04['  ]| her visitor went on$5$.
116:217,05['  ]| Isabel made no$2$ reply; the sense of Henrietta*Stackpole's
116:217,06['  ]| treachery, as she momentarily qualified
116:217,07['  ]| it, was strong within her.  
116:217,07[A  ]| "Henrietta is certainly not
116:217,08[A  ]| a model of all the delicacies!" 
116:217,08['  ]| she exclaimed with
116:217,09['  ]| bitterness.  
116:217,09[A  ]| "It was a great liberty to$9$ take."
116:217,10[E  ]| "I suppose I am not a model either ~~ of those
116:217,11[E  ]| virtues or of any others.  The fault is mine as much
116:217,12[E  ]| as hers."
116:217,13['  ]| As Isabel looked at him it seemed to$4$ her that$3$ his
116:217,14['  ]| jaw had never been more square.  This might have
116:217,15['  ]| displeased her, but she took a different turn.  
116:217,15[A  ]| "No$7$,
116:217,16[A  ]| it is not your fault so$5#1$ much as hers.  What you have done
116:217,17[A  ]| was inevitable, I suppose, for$4$ \you\."
116:217,18[E  ]| "It was indeed!" 
116:217,18['  ]| cried Caspar*Goodwood with
116:217,19['  ]| a voluntary laugh.  
116:217,19[E  ]| "And now that$3$ I have come, at any
116:217,20[E  ]| rate, may not I stay?"
116:217,21[A  ]| "You may sit down, certainly."
116:217,22['  ]| She went back to$4$ her chair again, while her visitor
116:217,23['  ]| took the first place that$6#1$ offered, in$4$ the manner of
116:217,24['  ]| a man accustomed to$9$ pay little thought to$4$ that$6#2$ sort
116:217,25['  ]| of furtherance.  
116:217,15[E  ]| "I have been hoping every day for$4$
116:217,26[E  ]| an answer to$4$ my letter.  You might have written me
116:217,27[E  ]| a few lines."
116:217,28[A  ]| "It was not the trouble of writing that$6#1$ prevented
116:217,29[A  ]| me; I could as easily have written you four pages
116:217,30[A  ]| as one.  But my silence was an intention," 
116:217,30['  ]| Isabel
116:217,31['  ]| said.  
116:217,31[A  ]| "I thought it the best thing."
116:217,32['  ]| He sat with his eyes fixed on$4$ hers while she spoke;
116:218,01['  ]| then he lowered them and attached them to$4$ a spot
116:218,02['  ]| in$4$ the carpet as if he were making a strong effort to$9$ 
116:218,03['  ]| say nothing but what he ought.  He was a strong man
116:218,04['  ]| in$4$ the wrong, and he was acute enough to$9$ see that$3$
116:218,05['  ]| an uncompromising exhibition of his strength would
116:218,06['  ]| only throw the falsity of his position into relief.  Isabel
116:218,07['  ]| was not incapable of tasting any advantage of
116:218,08['  ]| position over a person of this quality, and though little
116:218,09['  ]| desirous to$9$ flaunt it in$4$ his face she could enjoy being
116:218,10['  ]| able to$9$ say 
116:218,10[A  ]| "You know you ought not to$9$ have written
116:218,11[A  ]| to$4$ me yourself!"  
116:218,11['  ]| and to$9$ say it with an air of triumph.
116:218,12['  ]| Caspar*Goodwood raised his eyes to$4$ her own again; 
116:218,13['  ]| they seemed to$9$ shine through the vizard of a helmet.
116:218,14['  ]| He had a strong sense of justice and was ready any
116:218,15['  ]| day in$4$ the year ~~ over and above this ~~ to$9$ argue
116:218,16['  ]| the question of his rights.  
116:218,16[E  ]| "You said you hoped never
116:218,17[E  ]| to$9$ hear from me again; I know that$6#2$.  But I never
116:218,18[E  ]| accepted any such rule as my own.  I warned you that$3$
116:218,19[E  ]| you should hear very soon."
116:218,20[A  ]| "I did not say I hoped \never\ to$9$ hear from you,"
116:218,21['  ]| said Isabel.
116:218,22[E  ]| "Not for$4$ five years then; for$4$ ten years; twenty
116:218,23[E  ]| years.  It is the same thing."
116:218,24[A  ]| "Do you find it so$5#2$?  It seems to$4$ me there is a great
116:218,25[A  ]| difference.  I can imagine that$3$ at the end of ten years
116:218,26[A  ]| we might have a very pleasant correspondence.  I shall
116:218,27[A  ]| have matured my epistolary style."
116:218,28['  ]| She looked away while she spoke these words, knowing
116:218,29['  ]| them of so$5#1$ much less earnest a cast than the countenance 
116:218,30['  ]| of her listener.  Her eyes, however, at last
116:218,31['  ]| came back to$4$ him, just as he said very irrelevantly:
116:218,32[E  ]| "Are you enjoying your visit to$4$ your uncle?"
116:219,01[A  ]| "Very much indeed."  
116:219,01['  ]| She dropped, but then she
116:219,02['  ]| broke out.  
116:219,02[A  ]| "What good do you expect to$9$ get by$4$
116:219,03[A  ]| insisting?"
116:219,04[E  ]| "The good of not losing you."
116:219,05[A  ]| "You have no$2$ right to$9$ talk of losing what is not yours.
116:219,06[A  ]| And even from your own point of view," 
116:219,06['  ]| Isabel added,
116:219,07[A  ]| "you ought to$9$ know when to$9$ let one alone."
116:219,08[E  ]| "I disgust you very much," 
116:219,08['  ]| said Caspar*Goodwood
116:219,09['  ]| gloomily; not as if to$9$ provoke her to$4$ compassion for$4$
116:219,10['  ]| a man conscious of this blighting fact, but as if to$9$ set
116:219,11['  ]| it well before himself, so$3$ that$3$ he might endeavour to$9$ 
116:219,12['  ]| act with his eyes on$4$ it.
116:219,13[A  ]| "Yes, you do not at all delight me, you do not fit in$5$,
116:219,14[A  ]| not in$4$ any way, just now, and the worst is that$3$ your
116:219,15[A  ]| putting it to$4$ the proof in$4$ this manner is quite unnecessary."
116:219,16['  ]| It was not certainly as if his nature had
116:219,17['  ]| been soft, so$3$ that$3$ pin-pricks would draw blood from
116:219,18['  ]| it; and from the first of her acquaintance with him,
116:219,19['  ]| and of her having to$9$ defend herself against a certain
116:219,20['  ]| air that$6#1$ he had of knowing better what was good for$4$
116:219,21['  ]| her than she knew herself, she had recognised the
116:219,22['  ]| fact that$3$ 
116:219,22@a   | perfect frankness was her best weapon.  To$9$
116:219,23@a   | attempt to$9$ spare his sensibility or to$9$ escape from him
116:219,24@a   | edgewise, as one might do from a man who$6#1$ had barred
116:219,25@a   | the way less sturdily ~~ this, in$4$ dealing with Caspar*Goodwood,
116:219,26@a   | who$6#1$ would grasp at everything of every
116:219,27@a   | sort that$6#1$ one might give him, was wasted agility.  It
116:219,28@a   | was not that$3$ he had not susceptibilities, but his passive
116:219,29@a   | surface, as well as his active, was large and hard,
116:219,30@a   | and he might always be trusted to$9$ dress his wounds,
116:219,31@a   | so$5#1$ far as they required it, himself.  
116:219,31['  ]| She came back,
116:219,32['  ]| even for$4$ her measure of possible pangs and aches in$4$
116:220,01['  ]| him, to$4$ her old sense that$3$ 
116:220,01@a   | he was naturally plated and
116:220,02@a   | steeled, armed essentially for$4$ aggression.
116:220,03[E  ]| "I can not reconcile myself to$4$ that$6#2$," 
116:220,03['  ]| he simply said.
116:220,04['  ]| There was a dangerous liberality about it; for$3$ she
116:220,05['  ]| felt 
116:220,05@a   | how open it was to$4$ him to$9$ make the point that$3$ he
116:220,06@a   | had not always disgusted her.
116:220,07[A  ]| "I can not reconcile myself to$4$ it either, and it is not
116:220,08[A  ]| the state of things that$6#1$ ought to$9$ exist between us.  If
116:220,09[A  ]| you would only try to$9$ banish me from your mind for$4$ a few
116:220,10[A  ]| months we should be on$4$ good terms again."
116:220,11[E  ]| "I see.  If I should cease to$9$ think of you at all for$4$
116:220,12[E  ]| a prescribed time, I should find I could keep it up$5$
116:220,13[E  ]| indefinitely."
116:220,14[A  ]| "Indefinitely is more than I ask.  It is more even
116:220,15[A  ]| than I should like$1$."
116:220,16[E  ]| "You know that$3$ what you ask is impossible," 
116:220,16['  ]| said
116:220,17['  ]| the young man, taking his adjective for$4$ granted in$4$ a
116:220,18['  ]| manner she found irritating.
116:220,19[A  ]| "Are not you capable of making a calculated effort?"
116:220,20['  ]| she demanded.  
116:220,20[A  ]| "You are strong for$4$ everything
116:220,21[A  ]| else; why should not you be strong for$4$ that$6#2$?"
116:220,22[E  ]| "An effort calculated for$4$ what?"  
116:220,22['  ]| And then as she
116:220,23['  ]| hung fire, 
116:220,23[E  ]| "I am capable of nothing with regard to$4$
116:220,24[E  ]| you," 
116:220,24['  ]| he went on$5$, 
116:220,24[E  ]| "but just of being infernally in$4$ love
116:220,25[E  ]| with you.  If one is strong one loves only the more
116:220,26[E  ]| strongly."
116:220,27[A  ]| "There is a good deal in$4$ that$6#2$," 
116:220,27['  ]| and indeed our
116:220,28['  ]| young lady felt the force of it ~~ felt it thrown off,
116:220,29['  ]| into the vast of truth and poetry, as practically a bait
116:220,30['  ]| to$4$ her imagination.  But she promptly came round.
116:220,31[A  ]| "Think of me or not, as you find most possible; only
116:220,32[A  ]| leave me alone."
116:221,01[E  ]| "Until when?"
116:221,02[A  ]| "Well, for$4$ a year or two."
116:221,03[E  ]| "Which$6#2$ do you mean?  Between one year and two
116:221,04[E  ]| there is all the difference in$4$ world."
116:221,05[A  ]| "Call it two then," 
116:221,05['  ]| said Isabel with a studied effect
116:221,06['  ]| of eagerness.
116:221,07[E  ]| "And what shall I gain by$4$ that$6#2$?" 
116:221,07['  ]| her friend asked
116:221,08['  ]| with no$2$ sign of wincing.
116:221,09[A  ]| "You will$1$ have obliged me greatly."
116:221,10[E  ]| "And what will$1$ be my reward?"
116:221,11[A  ]| "Do you need a reward for$4$ an act of generosity?"
116:221,12[E  ]| "Yes, when it involves a great sacrifice."
116:221,13[A  ]| "There is no$2$ generosity without some sacrifice.
116:221,14[A  ]| Men do not understand such things.  If you make the
116:221,15[A  ]| sacrifice you will$1$ have all my admiration."
116:221,16[E  ]| "I do not care a cent for$4$ your admiration ~~ not one
116:221,17[E  ]| straw, with nothing to$9$ show for$4$ it.  When will$1$ you
116:221,18[E  ]| marry me?  That$6#2$ is the only question."
116:221,19[A  ]| "Never ~~ if you go on$5$ making me feel only as I
116:221,20[A  ]| feel at present."
116:221,21[E  ]| "What do I gain then by$4$ not trying to$9$ make you
116:221,22[E  ]| feel otherwise?"
116:221,23[A  ]| "You will$1$ gain quite as much as by$4$ worrying me to$4$
116:221,24[A  ]| death!"  
116:221,24['  ]| Caspar*Goodwood bent his eyes again and
116:221,25['  ]| gazed a while into the crown of his hat.  A deep flush
116:221,26['  ]| overspread his face; she could see her sharpness had
116:221,27['  ]| at last penetrated.  This immediately had a value ~~
116:221,28['  ]| classic, romantic, redeeming, what did she know? ~~
116:221,29['  ]| for$4$ her; "the strong man in$4$ pain" was one of the
116:221,30['  ]| categories of the human appeal, little charm as he
116:221,31['  ]| might exert in$4$ the given case.  
116:221,31[A  ]| "Why do you make me
116:221,32[A  ]| say such things to$4$ you?" 
116:221,32['  ]| she cried in$4$ a trembling
116:222,01['  ]| voice.  
116:222,01[A  ]| "I only want to$9$ be gentle ~~ to$9$ be thoroughly
116:222,02[A  ]| kind.  It is not delightful to$4$ me to$9$ feel people care for$4$
116:222,03[A  ]| me and yet to$9$ have to$9$ try and reason them out of it.
116:222,04[A  ]| I think others also ought to$9$ be considerate; we have
116:222,05[A  ]| each to$9$ judge for$4$ ourselves.  I know you are considerate,
116:222,06[A  ]| as much as you can be; you have good reasons
116:222,07[A  ]| for$4$ what you do.  But I really do not want to$9$ marry,
116:222,08[A  ]| or to$9$ talk about it at all now.  I shall probably never
116:222,09[A  ]| do it ~~ no$7$, never.  I have a perfect right to$9$ feel that$6#2$
116:222,10[A  ]| way, and it is no$2$ kindness to$4$ a woman to$9$ press her so$5#1$
116:222,11[A  ]| hard, to$9$ urge her against her will$0$.  If I give you pain
116:222,12[A  ]| I can only say I am very sorry.  It is not my fault; I
116:222,13[A  ]| can not marry you simply to$9$ please you.  I will$1$ not say
116:222,14[A  ]| that$3$ I shall always remain your friend, because when
116:222,15[A  ]| women say that$6#2$, in$4$ these situations, it passes, I believe,
116:222,16[A  ]| for$4$ a sort of mockery.  But try me some day."
116:222,17['  ]| Caspar*Goodwood, during this speech, had kept
116:222,18['  ]| his eyes fixed upon$4$ the name of his hatter, and it was
116:222,19['  ]| not until some time after she had ceased speaking
116:222,20['  ]| that$3$ he raised them.  When he did so$5#2$ the sight of a
116:222,21['  ]| rosy, lovely eagerness in$4$ Isabel's face threw some
116:222,22['  ]| confusion into his attempt to$9$ analyse her words.  
116:222,22[E  ]| "I will$1$
116:222,23[E  ]| go home ~~ I will$1$ go to-morrow ~~ I will$1$ leave you alone,"
116:222,24['  ]| he brought out at last.  
116:222,24[E  ]| "Only," 
116:222,24['  ]| he heavily said, 
116:222,24[E  ]| "I
116:222,25[E  ]| hate to$9$ lose sight of you!"
116:222,26[A  ]| "Never fear.  I shall do no$2$ harm."
116:222,27[E  ]| "You will$1$ marry some*one else, as sure as I sit here,"
116:222,28['  ]| Caspar*Goodwood declared.
116:222,29[A  ]| "Do you think that$6#2$ a generous charge?"
116:222,30[E  ]| "Why not?  Plenty of men will$1$ try to$9$ make you."
116:222,31[A  ]| "I told you just now that$3$ I do not wish to$9$ marry
116:222,32[A  ]| and that$3$ I almost certainly never shall."
116:223,01[E  ]| "I know you did, and I like$1$ your ""almost certainly""!
116:223,02[E  ]| I put no$2$ faith in$4$ what you say."
116:223,03[A  ]| "Thank you very much.  Do you accuse me of
116:223,04[A  ]| lying to$9$ shake you off?  You say very delicate things."
116:223,05[E  ]| "Why should I not say that$6#2$?  You have given me no$2$
116:223,06[E  ]| pledge of anything at all."
116:223,07[A  ]| "No$7$, that$6#2$ is all that$6#1$ would be wanting!"
116:223,08[E  ]| "You may perhaps even believe you are safe ~~
116:223,09[E  ]| from wishing to$9$ be.  But you are not," 
116:223,09['  ]| the young man
116:223,10['  ]| went on$5$ as if preparing himself for$4$ the worst.
116:223,11[A  ]| "Very well then.  We will$1$ put it that$3$ I am not safe.
116:223,12[A  ]| Have it as you please."
116:223,13[E  ]| "I do not know, however," 
116:223,13['  ]| said Caspar*Goodwood,
116:223,14[E  ]| "that$3$ my keeping you in$4$ sight would prevent it."
116:223,15[A  ]| "Do not you indeed?  I am after all very much afraid
116:223,16[A  ]| of you.  Do you think I am so$5#1$ very easily pleased?"
116:223,17['  ]| she asked suddenly, changing her tone.
116:223,18[E  ]| "No$7$ ~~ I do not; I shall try to$9$ console myself with
116:223,19[E  ]| that$6#2$.  But there are a certain number of very dazzling
116:223,20[E  ]| men in$4$ the world, no$2$ doubt; and if there were only
116:223,21[E  ]| one it would be enough.  The most dazzling of all will$1$
116:223,22[E  ]| make straight for$4$ you.  You will$1$ be sure to$9$ take no*one
116:223,23[E  ]| who$6#1$ is not dazzling."
116:223,24[A  ]| "If you mean by$4$ dazzling brilliantly clever," 
116:223,24['  ]| Isabel
116:223,25['  ]| said ~~ 
116:223,25[A  ]| "and I can not imagine what else you mean ~~
116:223,26[A  ]| I do not need the aid of a clever man to$9$ teach me how
116:223,27[A  ]| to$9$ live.  I can find it out for$4$ myself."
116:223,28[E  ]| "Find out how to$9$ live alone?  I wish that$3$, when you
116:223,29[E  ]| have, you would teach \me\!"
116:223,30['  ]| She looked at him a moment; then with a quick
116:223,31['  ]| smile, 
116:223,31[A  ]| "Oh, \you\ ought to$9$ marry!" 
116:223,31['  ]| she said.
116:223,32['  ]| He might be pardoned if for$4$ an instant this exclamation
116:224,01['  ]| seemed to$4$ him to$9$ sound the infernal note, and
116:224,02['  ]| it is not on$4$ record that$3$ her motive for$4$ discharging
116:224,03['  ]| such a shaft had been of the clearest.  
116:224,03@a   | He ought not
116:224,04@a   | to$9$ stride about lean and hungry, however ~~ 
116:224,04['  ]| she certainly
116:224,05['  ]| felt \that$6#2$\ for$4$ him.  
116:224,05[E  ]| "God forgive you!" 
116:224,05['  ]| he murmured
116:224,06['  ]| between his teeth as he turned away.
116:224,07['  ]| Her accent had put her slightly in$4$ the wrong, and
116:224,08['  ]| after a moment she felt the need to$9$ right herself.  
116:224,08@a   | The
116:224,09@a   | easiest way to$9$ do it was to$9$ place him where she had
116:224,10@a   | been.  
116:224,10[A  ]| "You do me great injustice ~~ you say what
116:224,11[A  ]| you do not know!" 
116:224,11['  ]| she broke out.  
116:224,11[A  ]| "I should not be
116:224,12[A  ]| an easy victim ~~ I have proved it."
116:224,13[E  ]| "Oh, to$4$ me, perfectly."
116:224,14[A  ]| "I have proved it to$4$ others as well."  
116:224,14['  ]| And she
116:224,15['  ]| paused a moment.  
116:224,15[A  ]| "I refused a proposal of marriage
116:224,16[A  ]| last week; what they call ~~  no$2$ doubt ~~ a dazzling
116:224,17[A  ]| one."
116:224,18[E  ]| "I am very glad to$9$ hear it," 
116:224,18['  ]| said the young man
116:224,19['  ]| gravely.
116:224,20[A  ]| "It was a proposal many girls would have accepted;
116:224,21[A  ]| it had everything to$9$ recommend it."  
116:224,21['  ]| Isabel had not
116:224,22['  ]| proposed to$4$ herself to$9$ tell this story, but, now she had
116:224,23['  ]| begun, the satisfaction of speaking it out and doing
116:224,24['  ]| herself justice took possession of her.  
116:224,24[A  ]| "I was offered
116:224,25[A  ]| a great position and a great fortune ~~ by$4$ a person
116:224,26[A  ]| whom I like$1$ extremely."
116:224,27['  ]| Caspar watched her with intense interest.  
116:224,27[E  ]| "Is he
116:224,28[E  ]| an Englishman?"
116:224,29[A  ]| "He is an English nobleman," 
116:224,29['  ]| said Isabel.
116:224,30['  ]| Her visitor received this announcement at first in$4$
116:224,31['  ]| silence, but at last said: 
116:224,31[E  ]| "I am glad he is disappointed."
116:224,32[E  ]| 
116:225,01[A  ]| "Well then, as you have companions in$4$ misfortune,
116:225,02[A  ]| make the best of it."
116:225,03[E  ]| "I do not call him a companion," 
116:225,03['  ]| said Caspar
116:225,04['  ]| grimly.
116:225,05[A  ]| "Why not ~~ since I declined his offer absolutely?"
116:225,06[E  ]| "That$6#2$ does not make him my companion.  Besides,
116:225,07[E  ]| he is an Englishman."
116:225,08[A  ]| "And pray is not an Englishman a human being?"
116:225,09['  ]| Isabel asked.
116:225,10[E  ]| "Oh, those people?  They are not of \my\ humanity,
116:225,11[E  ]| and I do not care what becomes of them."
116:225,12[A  ]| "You are very angry," 
116:225,12['  ]| said the girl.  
116:225,12[A  ]| "We have discussed
116:225,13[A  ]| this matter quite enough."
116:225,14[E  ]| "Oh yes, I am very angry.  I plead guilty to$4$ that$6#2$!"
116:225,15['  ]| She turned away from him, walked to$4$ the open window
116:225,16['  ]| and stood a moment looking into the dusky void
116:225,17['  ]| of the street, where a turbid gaslight alone represented
116:225,18['  ]| social animation.  For$4$ some time neither of these
116:225,19['  ]| young persons spoke; Caspar lingered near the chimney-piece
116:225,20['  ]| with eyes gloomily attached.  
116:225,20@e   | She had virtually 
116:225,21@e   | requested him to$9$ go 
116:225,21['  ]| ~~ he knew that$6#2$; but at 
116:225,22['  ]| the risk of making himself odious he kept his ground.
116:225,23@e   | She was too nursed a need to$9$ be easily renounced,
116:225,24@e   | and he had crossed the sea all to$9$ wring from her some
116:225,25@e   | scrap of a vow.  
116:225,25['  ]| Presently she left the window and
116:225,26['  ]| stood again before him.  
116:225,26[A  ]| "You do me very little justice
116:225,27[A  ]| ~~ after my telling you what I told you just now.  I am
116:225,28[A  ]| sorry I told you ~~ since it matters so$5#1$ little to$4$ you."
116:225,29[E  ]| "Ah," 
116:225,29['  ]| cried the young man, 
116:225,29[E  ]| "if you were thinking
116:225,30[E  ]| of \me\ when you did it!"  
116:225,30['  ]| And then he paused with
116:225,31['  ]| the fear that$3$ she might contradict so$5#1$ happy a thought.
116:225,32[A  ]| "I was thinking of you a little," 
116:225,32['  ]| said Isabel.
116:226,01[E  ]| "A little?  I do not understand.  If the knowledge
116:226,02[E  ]| of what I feel for$4$ you had any weight with you at all,
116:226,03[E  ]| calling it a ""little"" is a poor account of it."
116:226,04['  ]| Isabel shook her head as if to$9$ carry off a blunder.
116:226,05[A  ]| "I have refused a most kind, noble gentleman.  Make
116:226,06[A  ]| the most of that$6#2$."
116:226,07[E  ]| "I thank you then," 
116:226,07['  ]| said Caspar*Goodwood gravely.
116:226,08[E  ]| "I thank you immensely."
116:226,09[A  ]| "And now you had better go home."
116:226,10[E  ]| "May I not see you again?" 
116:226,10['  ]| he asked.
116:226,11[A  ]| "I think it is better not.  You will$1$ be sure to$9$ talk of
116:226,12[A  ]| this, and you see it leads to$4$ nothing."
116:226,13[E  ]| "I promise you not to$9$ say a word that$6#1$ will$1$ annoy 
116:226,14[E  ]| you."
116:226,15['  ]| Isabel reflected and then answered: 
116:226,15[A  ]| "I return in$4$ a 
116:226,16[A  ]| day or two to$4$ my uncle's, and I can not propose to$4$ you
116:226,17[A  ]| to$9$ come there.  It would be too inconsistent."
116:226,18['  ]| Caspar*Goodwood, on$4$ his side, considered.  
116:226,18[E  ]| "You
116:226,19[E  ]| must do me justice too.  I received an invitation to$4$
116:226,20[E  ]| your uncle's more than a week ago, and I declined
116:226,21[E  ]| it."
116:226,22['  ]| She betrayed surprise.  
116:226,22[A  ]| "From whom was your 
116:226,23[A  ]| invitation?"
116:226,24[E  ]| "From Mr%*Ralph*Touchett, whom I suppose to$9$ be
116:226,25[E  ]| your cousin.  I declined it because I had not your
116:226,26[E  ]| authorisation to$9$ accept it.  The suggestion that$3$ Mr%*Touchett
116:226,27[E  ]| should invite me appeared to$9$ have come
116:226,28[E  ]| from Miss*Stackpole."
116:226,29[A  ]| "It certainly never did from me.  Henrietta really
116:226,30[A  ]| goes very far," 
116:226,30['  ]| Isabel added.
116:226,31[E  ]| "Do not be too hard on$4$ her ~~ that$6#2$ touches \me\."
116:226,32[A  ]| "No$7$; if you declined you did quite right, and I
116:227,01[A  ]| thank you for$4$ it."  
116:227,01['  ]| And she gave a little shudder of
116:227,02['  ]| dismay at the thought that$3$ 
116:227,02@a   | Lord*Warburton and Mr%*Goodwood
116:227,03@a   | might have met at Gardencourt: it would
116:227,04@a   | have been so$5#1$ awkward for$4$ Lord*Warburton.
116:227,05[E  ]| "When you leave your uncle where do you go?"
116:227,06['  ]| her companion asked.
116:227,07[A  ]| "I go abroad with my aunt ~~ to$4$ Florence and
116:227,08[A  ]| other places."
116:227,09['  ]| The serenity of this announcement struck a chill
116:227,10['  ]| to$4$ the young man's heart; he seemed to$9$ see her
116:227,11['  ]| whirled away into circles from which$6#1$ he was inexorably 
116:227,12['  ]| excluded.  Nevertheless he went on$5$ quickly
116:227,13['  ]| with his questions.  
116:227,13[E  ]| "And when shall you come back
116:227,14[E  ]| to$4$ America?"
116:227,15[A  ]| "Perhaps not for$4$ a long time.  I am very happy
116:227,16[A  ]| here."
116:227,17[E  ]| "Do you mean to$9$ give up$5$ your country?"
116:227,18[A  ]| "Do not be an infant!"
116:227,19[E  ]| "Well, you will$1$ be out of my sight indeed!" 
116:227,19['  ]| said
116:227,20['  ]| Caspar*Goodwood.
116:227,21[A  ]| "I do not know," 
116:227,21['  ]| she answered rather grandly.
116:227,22[A  ]| "The world ~~ with all these places so$5#2$ arranged and
116:227,23[A  ]| so$5#2$ touching each other ~~ comes to$9$ strike one as rather
116:227,24[A  ]| small."
116:227,25[E  ]| "It is a sight too big for$4$ \me\!" 
116:227,25['  ]| Caspar exclaimed
116:227,26['  ]| with a simplicity our young lady might have found
116:227,27['  ]| touching if her face had not been set against concessions.
116:227,28['  ]|
116:227,29['  ]| This attitude was part of a system, a theory, that$6#1$
116:227,30['  ]| she had lately embraced, and to$9$ be thorough she said
116:227,31['  ]| after a moment:  
116:227,31[A  ]| "Do not think me unkind if I say
116:227,32[A  ]| it is just \that$6#2$\ ~~ being out of your sight ~~ that$6#1$ I like$1$.
116:228,01[A  ]| If you were in$4$ the same place I should feel you were
116:228,02[A  ]| watching me, and I do not like$1$ that$6#2$ ~~ I like$1$ my liberty
116:228,03[A  ]| too much.  If there is a thing in$4$ the world I am
116:228,04[A  ]| fond of," 
116:228,04['  ]| she went on$5$ with a slight recurrence of
116:228,05['  ]| grandeur, 
116:228,05[A  ]| "it is my personal independence."
116:228,06['  ]| But whatever there might be of the too superior in$4$
116:228,07['  ]| this speech moved Caspar*Goodwood's admiration;
116:228,08['  ]| there was nothing he winced at in$4$ the large air of it.
116:228,09['  ]| He had never supposed she had not wings and the need
116:228,10['  ]| of beautiful free movements ~~ he was not, with his
116:228,11['  ]| own long arms and strides, afraid of any force in$4$
116:228,12['  ]| her.  Isabel's words, if they had been meant to$9$ shock
116:228,13['  ]| him, failed of the mark and only made him smile
116:228,14['  ]| with the sense that$3$ here was common ground.  
116:228,14[E  ]| "Who$6#2$
116:228,15[E  ]| would wish less to$9$ curtail your liberty than I?  What
116:228,16[E  ]| can give me greater pleasure than to$9$ see you perfectly
116:228,17[E  ]| independent ~~ doing whatever you like$1$?  It is to$9$
116:228,18[E  ]| make you independent that$3$ I want to$9$ marry you."
116:228,19[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is a beautiful sophism," 
116:228,19['  ]| said the girl with
116:228,20['  ]| a smile more beautiful still.
116:228,21[E  ]| "An unmarried woman ~~ a girl of your age ~~
116:228,22[E  ]| is not independent.  There are all sorts of things she
116:228,23[E  ]| can not do.  She is hampered at every step."
116:228,24[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is as she looks at the question,"  
116:228,24['  ]| Isabel answered
116:228,25['  ]| with much spirit.  
116:228,25[A  ]| "I am not in$4$ my first youth
116:228,26[A  ]| ~~ I can do what I choose ~~ I belong quite to$4$ the independent
116:228,27[A  ]| class.  I have neither father nor mother; I am
116:228,28[A  ]| poor and of a serious disposition; I am not pretty.  I
116:228,29[A  ]| therefore am not bound to$9$ be timid and conventional;
116:228,30[A  ]| indeed I can not afford such luxuries.  Besides, I try to$9$
116:228,31[A  ]| judge things for$4$ myself; to$9$ judge wrong, I think, is
116:228,32[A  ]| more honourable than not to$9$ judge at all.  I do not wish
116:229,01[A  ]| to$9$ be a mere sheep in$4$ the flock; I wish to$9$ choose my
116:229,02[A  ]| fate and know something of human affairs beyond
116:229,03[A  ]| what other people think it compatible with propriety
116:229,04[A  ]| to$9$ tell me."  
116:229,04['  ]| She paused a moment, but not long enough
116:229,05['  ]| for$4$ her companion to$9$ reply.  He was apparently on$4$
116:229,06['  ]| the point of doing so$5#2$ when she went on$5$:  
116:229,06[A  ]| "Let me
116:229,07[A  ]| say this to$4$ you, Mr%*Goodwood.  You are so$5#1$ kind as to$9$
116:229,08[A  ]| speak of being afraid of my marrying.  If you should
116:229,09[A  ]| hear a rumour that$3$ I am on$4$ the point of doing so$5#2$ ~~
116:229,10[A  ]| girls are liable to$9$ have such things said about them
116:229,11[A  ]| ~~ remember what I have told you about my love of
116:229,12[A  ]| liberty and venture to$9$ doubt it."
116:229,13['  ]| There was something passionately positive in$4$ the 
116:229,14['  ]| tone in$4$ which$6#1$ she gave him this advice, and he saw
116:229,15['  ]| a shining candour in$4$ her eyes that$6#1$ helped him to$9$ believe 
116:229,16['  ]| her.  On$4$ the whole he felt reassured, and you
116:229,17['  ]| might have perceived it by$4$ the manner in$4$ which$6#1$ he
116:229,18['  ]| said, quite eagerly:  
116:229,18[E  ]| "You want simply to$9$ travel for$4$
116:229,19[E  ]| two years?  I am quite willing to$9$ wait two years, and
116:229,20[E  ]| you may do what you like$1$ in$4$ the interval.  If that$6#2$ is
116:229,21[E  ]| all you want, pray say so$5#2$.  I do not want you to$9$ be
116:229,22[E  ]| conventional; do I strike you as conventional myself?
116:229,23[E  ]| Do you want to$9$ improve your mind?  Your 
116:229,24[E  ]| mind is quite good enough for$4$ me; but if it interests
116:229,25[E  ]| you to$9$ wander about a while and see different countries
116:229,26[E  ]| I shall be delighted to$9$ help you in$4$ any way in$4$
116:229,27[E  ]| my power."
116:229,28[A  ]| "You are very generous; that$6#2$ is nothing new to$4$ me.
116:229,29[A  ]| The best way to$9$ help me will$1$ be to$9$ put as many hundred
116:229,30[A  ]| miles of sea between us as possible."
116:229,31[E  ]| "One would think you were going to$9$ commit some
116:229,32[E  ]| atrocity!" 
116:229,32['  ]| said Caspar*Goodwood.
116:230,01[A  ]| "Perhaps I am.  I wish to$9$ be free even to$9$ do that$6#2$
116:230,02[A  ]| if the fancy takes me."
116:230,03[E  ]| "Well then," 
116:230,03['  ]| he said slowly, 
116:230,03[E  ]| "I will$1$ go home."  
116:230,03['  ]| And
116:230,04['  ]| he put out his hand, trying to$9$ look contented and confident.
116:230,05['  ]| 
116:230,06['  ]| Isabel's confidence in$4$ him, however, was greater
116:230,07['  ]| than any he could feel in$4$ her.  Not that$3$ he thought her
116:230,08['  ]| capable of committing an atrocity; but, turn it over
116:230,09['  ]| as he would, 
116:230,09@e   | there was something ominous in$4$ the way
116:230,10@e   | she reserved her option.  
116:230,10['  ]| As she took his hand she felt
116:230,11['  ]| a great respect for$4$ him; 
116:230,11@a   | she knew how much he cared
116:230,12@a   | for$4$ her and she thought him magnanimous.  
116:230,12['  ]| They
116:230,13['  ]| stood so$5#2$ for$4$ a moment, looking at each other, united
116:230,14['  ]| by$4$ a hand-clasp which$6#1$ was not merely passive on$4$ her
116:230,15['  ]| side.  
116:230,15[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is right," 
116:230,15['  ]| she said very kindly, almost
116:230,16['  ]| tenderly.  
116:230,16[A  ]| "You will$1$ lose nothing by$4$ being a reasonable
116:230,17[A  ]| man."
116:230,18[E  ]| "But I will$1$ come back, wherever you are, two years
116:230,19[E  ]| hence," 
116:230,19['  ]| he returned with characteristic grimness.
116:230,20['  ]| We have seen that$3$ our young lady was inconsequent,
116:230,21['  ]| and at this she suddenly changed her note.
116:230,22[A  ]| "Ah, remember, I promise nothing ~~ absolutely
116:230,23[A  ]| nothing!"  
116:230,23['  ]| Then more softly, as if to$9$ help him to$9$
116:230,24['  ]| leave her: 
116:230,24[A  ]| "And remember too that$3$ I shall not be an
116:230,25[A  ]| easy victim!"
116:230,26[E  ]| "You will$1$ get very sick of your independence."
116:230,27[A  ]| "Perhaps I shall; it is even very probable.  When
116:230,28[A  ]| that$6#2$ day comes I shall be very glad to$9$ see you."
116:230,29['  ]| She had laid her hand on$4$ the knob of the door that$6#1$
116:230,30['  ]| led into her room, and she waited a moment to$9$ see
116:230,31['  ]| whether her visitor would not take his departure.
116:230,32['  ]| But he appeared unable to$9$ move; there was still an
116:231,01['  ]| immense unwillingness in$4$ his attitude and a sore
116:231,02['  ]| remonstrance in$4$ his eyes.  
116:231,02[A  ]| "I must leave you now,"
116:231,03['  ]| said Isabel; and she opened the door and passed into
116:231,04['  ]| the other room.
116:231,05['  ]| This apartment was dark, but the darkness was
116:231,06['  ]| tempered by$4$ a vague radiance sent up$5$ through the
116:231,07['  ]| window from the court of the hotel, and Isabel could
116:231,08['  ]| make out the masses of the furniture, the dim shining
116:231,09['  ]| of the mirror and the looming of the big four-posted
116:231,10['  ]| bed.  She stood still a moment, listening, and at last
116:231,11['  ]| she heard Caspar*Goodwood walk out of the sitting-room
116:231,12['  ]| and close the door behind him.  She stood still
116:231,13['  ]| a little longer, and then, by$4$ an irresistible impulse,
116:231,14['  ]| dropped on$4$ her knees before her bed and hid her face
116:231,15['  ]| in$4$ her arms.
117:232,01['  ]| She was not praying; she was trembling ~~ trembling
117:232,02['  ]| all over.  Vibration was easy to$4$ her, was in$4$ fact too
117:232,03['  ]| constant with her, and she found herself now humming
117:232,04['  ]| like$4$ a smitten harp.  She only asked, however,
117:232,05['  ]| to$9$ put on$4$ the cover, to$9$ case herself again in$4$ brown
117:232,06['  ]| holland, but she wished to$9$ resist her excitement, and
117:232,07['  ]| the attitude of devotion, which$6#1$ she kept for$4$ some
117:232,08['  ]| time, seemed to$9$ help her to$9$ be still.  She intensely
117:232,09['  ]| rejoiced that$3$ Caspar*Goodwood was gone; there was
117:232,10['  ]| something in$4$ having thus got rid of him that$6#1$ was like$4$
117:232,11['  ]| the payment, for$4$ a stamped receipt, of some debt too
117:232,12['  ]| long on$4$ her mind.  As she felt the glad relief she bowed
117:232,13['  ]| her head a little lower; the sense was there, throbbing
117:232,14['  ]| in$4$ her heart; it was part of her emotion, but it was
117:232,15['  ]| a thing to$9$ be ashamed of ~~ it was profane and out of
117:232,16['  ]| place.  It was not for$4$ some ten minutes that$3$ she rose
117:232,17['  ]| from her knees, and even when she came back to$4$ 
117:232,18['  ]| the sitting-room her tremor had not quite subsided.
117:232,19['  ]| It had had, verily, two causes: part of it was to$9$ be
117:232,20['  ]| accounted for$5$ by$4$ her long discussion with Mr*Goodwood,
117:232,21['  ]| but it might be feared that$3$ the rest was simply
117:232,22['  ]| the enjoyment she found in$4$ the exercise of her power.
117:232,23['  ]| She sat down in$4$ the same chair again and took up$5$
117:232,24['  ]| her book, but without going through the form of
117:232,25['  ]| opening the volume.  She leaned back, with that$6#2$
117:232,26['  ]| low, soft, aspiring murmur with which$6#1$ she often uttered
117:232,27['  ]| her response to$4$ accidents of which$6#1$ the brighter
117:233,01['  ]| side was not superficially obvious, and yielded to$4$
117:233,02['  ]| the satisfaction of having refused two ardent suitors
117:233,03['  ]| in$4$ a fortnight.  That$6#2$ love of liberty of which$6#1$ she had
117:233,04['  ]| given Caspar*Goodwood so$5#1$ bold a sketch was as yet
117:233,05['  ]| almost exclusively theoretic; she had not been able
117:233,06['  ]| to$9$ indulge it on$4$ a large scale.  But it appeared to$4$ her
117:233,07['  ]| she had done something; she had tasted of the delight,
117:233,08['  ]| if not of battle, at least of victory; she had
117:233,09['  ]| done what was truest to$4$ her plan.  In$4$ the glow of this
117:233,10['  ]| consciousness the image of Mr%*Goodwood taking
117:233,11['  ]| his sad walk homeward through the dingy town
117:233,12['  ]| presented itself with a certain reproachful force; so$3$
117:233,13['  ]| that$3$, as at the same moment the door of the room was
117:233,14['  ]| opened, she rose with an apprehension that$3$ he had
117:233,15['  ]| come back.  But it was only Henrietta*Stackpole
117:233,16['  ]| returning from her dinner.
117:233,17['  ]| Miss*Stackpole immediately saw that$3$ our young
117:233,18['  ]| lady had been "through" something, and indeed the 
117:233,19['  ]| discovery demanded no$2$ great penetration.  She went
117:233,20['  ]| straight up$5$ to$4$ her friend, who$6#1$ received her without
117:233,21['  ]| a greeting.  Isabel's elation in$4$ having sent Caspar*Goodwood
117:233,22['  ]| back to$4$ America presupposed her being
117:233,23['  ]| in$4$ a manner glad he had come to$9$ see her; but at the
117:233,24['  ]| same time she perfectly remembered Henrietta had
117:233,25['  ]| had no$2$ right to$9$ set a trap for$4$ her.  
117:233,25[I  ]| "Has he been
117:233,26[I  ]| here, dear?"  
117:233,26['  ]| the latter yearningly asked.
117:233,27['  ]| Isabel turned away and for$4$ some moments answered
117:233,28['  ]| nothing.  
117:233,28[A  ]| "You acted very wrongly," 
117:233,28['  ]| she declared at
117:233,29['  ]| last.
117:233,30[I  ]| "I acted for$4$ the best.  I only hope you acted as well."
117:233,31[A  ]| "You are not the judge.  I can not trust you," 
117:233,31['  ]| said
117:233,32['  ]| Isabel.
117:234,01['  ]| This declaration was unflattering, but Henrietta
117:234,02['  ]| was much too unselfish to$9$ heed the charge it conveyed;
117:234,03['  ]| she cared only for$4$ what it intimated with 
117:234,04['  ]| regard to$4$ her friend.  
117:234,04[I  ]| "Isabel*Archer," 
117:234,04['  ]| she observed
117:234,05['  ]| with equal abruptness and solemnity, 
117:234,05[I  ]| "if you marry
117:234,06[I  ]| one of these people I will$1$ never speak to$4$ you again!"
117:234,07[A  ]| "Before making so$5#1$ terrible a threat you had better
117:234,08[A  ]| wait till I am asked," 
117:234,08['  ]| Isabel replied.  Never having
117:234,09['  ]| said a word to$4$ Miss*Stackpole about Lord*Warburton's
117:234,10['  ]| overtures, she had now no$2$ impulse whatever to$9$ justify
117:234,11['  ]| herself to$4$ Henrietta by$4$ telling her that$3$ she had refused
117:234,12['  ]| that$6#2$ nobleman.
117:234,13[I  ]| "Oh, you will$1$ be asked quick enough, once you
117:234,14[I  ]| get off on$4$ the Continent.  Annie*Climber was asked
117:234,15[I  ]| three times in$4$ Italy ~~ poor plain little Annie."
117:234,16[A  ]| "Well, if Annie*Climber was not captured why
117:234,17[A  ]| should I be?"
117:234,18[I  ]| "I do not believe Annie was pressed; but you will$1$ be."
117:234,19[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is a flattering conviction," 
117:234,19['  ]| said Isabel without 
117:234,20['  ]| alarm.
117:234,21[I  ]| "I do not flatter you, Isabel, I tell you the truth!"
117:234,22['  ]| cried her friend.  
117:234,22[I  ]| "I hope you do not mean to$9$ tell me
117:234,23[I  ]| that$3$ you did not give Mr%*Goodwood some hope."
117:234,24[A  ]| "I do not see why I should tell you anything; as I 
117:234,25[A  ]| said to$4$ you just now, I can not trust you.  But since you are
117:234,26[A  ]| so$5#1$ much interested in$4$ Mr%*Goodwood I will$1$ not conceal
117:234,27[A  ]| from you that$3$ he returns immediately to$4$ America."
117:234,28[I  ]| "You do not mean to$9$ say you have sent him off?"
117:234,29['  ]| Henrietta almost shrieked.
117:234,30[A  ]| "I asked him to$9$ leave me alone; and I ask you the
117:234,31[A  ]| same, Henrietta."  
117:234,31['  ]| Miss*Stackpole glittered for$4$ an
117:234,32['  ]| instant with dismay, and then passed to$4$ the mirror
117:235,01['  ]| over the chimney-piece and took off her bonnet.
117:235,02[A  ]| "I hope you have enjoyed your dinner,"  
117:235,02['  ]| Isabel went
117:235,03['  ]| on$5$.
117:235,04['  ]| But her companion was not to$9$ be diverted by$4$
117:235,05['  ]| frivolous propositions.  
117:235,05[I  ]| "Do you know where you are
117:235,06[I  ]| going, Isabel*Archer?"
117:235,07[A  ]| "Just now I am going to$4$ bed," 
117:235,07['  ]| said Isabel with 
117:235,08['  ]| persistent frivolity.
117:235,09[I  ]| "Do you know where you are drifting?"  
117:235,09['  ]| Henrietta
117:235,10['  ]| pursued, holding out her bonnet delicately.
117:235,11[A  ]| "No$7$, I have not the least idea, and I find it very
117:235,12[A  ]| pleasant not to$9$ know.  A swift carriage, of a dark
117:235,13[A  ]| night, rattling with four horses over roads that$6#1$ one
117:235,14[A  ]| can not see ~~ that$6#2$ is my idea of happiness."
117:235,15[I  ]| "Mr%*Goodwood certainly did not teach you to$9$ say
117:235,16[I  ]| such things as that$6#2$ ~~ like$4$ the heroine of an immoral
117:235,17[I  ]| novel," 
117:235,17['  ]| said Miss*Stackpole.  
117:235,17[I  ]| "You are drifting to$4$
117:235,18[I  ]| some great mistake."
117:235,19['  ]| Isabel was irritated by$4$ her friend's interference,
117:235,20['  ]| yet she still tried to$9$ think what truth this declaration
117:235,21['  ]| could represent.  She could think of nothing that$6#1$
117:235,22['  ]| diverted her from saying: 
117:235,22[A  ]| "You must be very fond
117:235,23[A  ]| of me, Henrietta, to$9$ be willing to$9$ be so$5#1$ aggressive."
117:235,24[I  ]| "I love you intensely, Isabel," 
117:235,24['  ]| said Miss*Stackpole
117:235,25['  ]| with feeling.
117:235,26[A  ]| "Well, if you love me intensely let me as intensely
117:235,27[A  ]| alone.  I asked that$6#2$ of Mr%*Goodwood, and I must
117:235,28[A  ]| also ask it of you."
117:235,29[I  ]| "Take care you are not let alone too much."
117:235,30[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is what Mr%*Goodwood said to$4$ me.  I told
117:235,31[A  ]| him I must take the risks."
117:235,32[I  ]| "You are a creature of risks ~~ you make me
117:236,01[I  ]| shudder!"  
117:236,01['  ]| cried Henrietta.  
117:236,01[I  ]| "When does Mr%*Goodwood
117:236,02[I  ]| return to$4$ America?"
117:236,03[A  ]| "I do not know ~~ he did not tell me."
117:236,04[I  ]| "Perhaps you did not enquire," 
117:236,04['  ]| said Henrietta with
117:236,05['  ]| the note of righteous irony.
117:236,06[A  ]| "I gave him too little satisfaction to$9$ have the right
117:236,07[A  ]| to$9$ ask questions of him."
117:236,08['  ]| This assertion seemed to$4$ Miss*Stackpole for$4$ a 
117:236,09['  ]| moment to$9$ bid defiance to$9$ comment; but at last she
117:236,10['  ]| exclaimed: 
117:236,10[I  ]| "Well, Isabel, if I did not know you I
117:236,11[I  ]| might think you were heartless!"
117:236,12[A  ]| "Take care," 
117:236,12['  ]| said Isabel; 
117:236,12[A  ]| "you are spoiling me."
117:236,13[I  ]| "I am afraid I have done that$6#2$ already.  I hope, at
117:236,14[I  ]| least," 
117:236,14['  ]| Miss*Stackpole added, 
117:236,14[I  ]| "that$3$ he may cross
117:236,15[I  ]| with Annie*Climber!"
117:236,16['  ]| Isabel learned from her the next morning that$3$ she
117:236,17['  ]| had determined not to$9$ return to$4$ Gardencourt (where
117:236,18['  ]| old Mr%*Touchett had promised her a renewed welcome),
117:236,19['  ]| but to$9$ await in$4$ London the arrival of the 
117:236,20['  ]| invitation that$6#1$ Mr%*Bantling had promised her from
117:236,21['  ]| his sister Lady*Pensil.  Miss*Stackpole related very
117:236,22['  ]| freely her conversation with Ralph*Touchett's sociable
117:236,23['  ]| friend and declared to$4$ Isabel that$3$ 
117:236,23@i   | she really
117:236,24@i   | believed she had now got hold of something that$6#1$
117:236,25@i   | would lead to$4$ something.  On$4$ the receipt of Lady*Pensil's
117:236,26@i   | letter ~~ 
117:236,26['  ]| Mr%*Bantling had virtually guaranteed
117:236,27['  ]| the arrival of this document ~~ 
117:236,27@i   | she would immediately
117:236,28@i   | depart for$4$ Bedfordshire, and if Isabel cared to$9$ look
117:236,29@i   | out for$4$ her impressions in$4$ the \Interviewer\ she would
117:236,30@i   | certainly find them.  
117:236,30@a   | Henrietta was evidently going
117:236,31@a   | to$9$ see something of the inner life this time.
117:236,32[A  ]| "Do you know where you are drifting, Henrietta*Stackpole?"
117:237,01['  ]| Isabel asked, imitating the tone in$4$ 
117:237,02['  ]| which$6#1$ her friend had spoken the night before.
117:237,03[I  ]| "I am drifting to$4$ a big position ~~ that$6#2$ of the
117:237,04[I  ]| Queen of American Journalism.  If my next letter
117:237,05[I  ]| is not copied all over the West I will$1$ swallow my penwiper!"
117:237,06[I  ]| 
117:237,07['  ]| She had arranged with her friend Miss*Annie*Climber,
117:237,08['  ]| the young lady of the continental offers, that$3$
117:237,09['  ]| they should go together to$9$ make those purchases
117:237,10['  ]| which$6#1$ were to$9$ constitute Miss*Climber's farewell to$4$
117:237,11['  ]| a hemisphere in$4$ which$6#1$ she at least had been appreciated;
117:237,12['  ]| and she presently repaired to$4$ Jermyn*Street
117:237,13['  ]| to$9$ pick up$5$ her companion.  Shortly after her departure
117:237,14['  ]| Ralph*Touchett was announced, and as soon as he
117:237,15['  ]| came in$4$ Isabel saw he had something on$4$ his mind.
117:237,16['  ]| He very soon took his cousin into his confidence.
117:237,17['  ]| He had received from his mother a telegram to$4$ the
117:237,18['  ]| effect that$3$ 
117:237,18@g   | his father had had a sharp attack of his
117:237,19@g   | old malady, that$3$ she was much alarmed and that$3$ she
117:237,20@g   | begged he would instantly return to$4$ Gardencourt.
117:237,21['  ]| On$4$ this occasion at least Mrs%*Touchett's devotion to$4$
117:237,22['  ]| the electric wire was not open to$4$ criticism.
117:237,23[B  ]| "I have judged it best to$9$ see the great doctor, Sir*Matthew*Hope,
117:237,24[B  ]| first," 
117:237,24['  ]| Ralph said; 
117:237,24[B  ]| "by$4$ great good
117:237,25[B  ]| luck he is in$4$ town.  He is to$9$ see me at half-past twelve,
117:237,26[B  ]| and I shall make sure of his coming down to$4$ Gardencourt
117:237,27[B  ]| ~~ which$6#1$ he will$1$ do the more readily as he has
117:237,28[B  ]| already seen my father several times, both there and
117:237,29[B  ]| in$4$ London.  There is an express at two-forty-five,
117:237,30[B  ]| which$6#1$ I shall take; and you will$1$ come back with me
117:237,31[B  ]| or remain here a few days longer, exactly as you
117:237,32[B  ]| prefer."
117:238,01[A  ]| "I shall certainly go with you," 
117:238,01['  ]| Isabel returned.
117:238,02[A  ]| "I do not suppose I can be of any use to$4$ my uncle, but
117:238,03[A  ]| if he is ill I shall like$1$ to$9$ be near him."
117:238,04[B  ]| "I think you are fond of him," 
117:238,04['  ]| said Ralph with a
117:238,05['  ]| certain shy pleasure in$4$ his face.  
117:238,05[B  ]| "You appreciate
117:238,06[B  ]| him, which$6#1$ all the world has not done.  The quality is
117:238,07[B  ]| too fine."
117:238,08[A  ]| "I quite adore him," 
117:238,08['  ]| Isabel after a moment said.
117:238,09[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is very well.  After his son he is your greatest
117:238,10[B  ]| admirer."
117:238,11['  ]| She welcomed this assurance, but she gave secretly
117:238,12['  ]| a small sigh of relief at the thought that$3$ 
117:238,12@a   | Mr%*Touchett
117:238,13@a   | was one of those admirers who$6#1$ could not propose to$9$
117:238,14@a   | marry her.  
117:238,14['  ]| This, however, was not what she spoke;
117:238,15['  ]| she went on$5$ to$9$ inform Ralph that$3$ 
117:238,15@a   | there were other 
117:238,16@a   | reasons for$4$ her not remaining in$4$ London.  She was
117:238,17@a   | tired of it and wished to$9$ leave it; and then Henrietta
117:238,18@a   | was going away ~~ going to$9$ stay in$4$ Bedfordshire.
117:238,19[B  ]| "In$4$ Bedfordshire?"
117:238,20[A  ]| "With Lady*Pensil, the sister of Mr%*Bantling, who$6#1$
117:238,21[A  ]| has answered for$4$ an invitation."
117:238,22['  ]| Ralph was feeling anxious, but at this he broke into
117:238,23['  ]| a laugh.  Suddenly, none the less, his gravity returned.
117:238,24[B  ]| "Bantling is a man of courage.  But if the invitation
117:238,25[B  ]| should get lost on$4$ the way?"
117:238,26[A  ]| "I thought the British post-office was impeccable."
117:238,27[B  ]| "The good Homer sometimes nods," 
117:238,27['  ]| said Ralph.
117:238,28[B  ]| "However," 
117:238,28['  ]| he went on$5$ more brightly, 
117:238,28[B  ]| "the good
117:238,29[B  ]| Bantling never does, and, whatever happens, he will$1$
117:238,30[B  ]| take care of Henrietta."
117:238,31['  ]| Ralph went to$9$ keep his appointment with Sir*Matthew*Hope,
117:238,32['  ]| and Isabel made her arrangements for$4$ 
117:239,01['  ]| quitting Pratt's*Hotel.  Her uncle's danger touched
117:239,02['  ]| her nearly, and while she stood before her open trunk,
117:239,03['  ]| looking about her vaguely for$4$ what she should put
117:239,04['  ]| into it, the tears suddenly rose to$4$ her eyes.  It was
117:239,05['  ]| perhaps for$4$ this reason that$3$ when Ralph came back
117:239,06['  ]| at two o'clock to$9$ take her to$4$ the station she was not
117:239,07['  ]| yet ready.  He found Miss*Stackpole, however, in$4$
117:239,08['  ]| the sitting-room, where she had just risen from her
117:239,09['  ]| luncheon, and this lady immediately expressed her
117:239,10['  ]| regret at his father's illness.
117:239,11[I  ]| "He is a grand old man," 
117:239,11['  ]| she said; 
117:239,11[I  ]| "he is faithful
117:239,12[I  ]| to$4$ the last.  If it is really to$9$ be the last ~~ pardon my
117:239,13[I  ]| alluding to$4$ it, but you must often have thought of the 
117:239,14[I  ]| possibility ~~ I am sorry that$3$ I shall not be at Gardencourt."
117:239,15[I  ]| 
117:239,16[B  ]| "You will$1$ amuse yourself much more in$4$ Bedfordshire."
117:239,17[B  ]| 
117:239,18[I  ]| "I shall be sorry to$9$ amuse myself at such a time,"
117:239,19['  ]| said Henrietta with much propriety.  But she immediately
117:239,20['  ]| added: 
117:239,20[I  ]| "I should like$1$ so$5#2$ to$9$ commemorate the
117:239,21[I  ]| closing scene."
117:239,22[B  ]| "My father may live a long time," 
117:239,22['  ]| said Ralph
117:239,23['  ]| simply.  Then, adverting to$4$ topics more cheerful, he
117:239,24['  ]| interrogated Miss*Stackpole as to$4$ her own future.
117:239,25['  ]| Now that$3$ Ralph was in$4$ trouble she addressed him
117:239,26['  ]| in$4$ a tone of larger allowance and told him that$3$ 
117:239,26@i   | she
117:239,27@i   | was much indebted to$4$ him for$4$ having made her acquainted
117:239,28@i   | with Mr%*Bantling.  
117:239,28[I  ]| "He has told me just
117:239,29[I  ]| the things I want to$9$ know," 
117:239,29['  ]| she said; 
117:239,29[I  ]| "all the society-items
117:239,30[I  ]| and all about the royal family.  I can not make
117:239,31[I  ]| out that$3$ what he tells me about the royal family is
117:239,32[I  ]| much to$4$ their credit; but he says that$6#2$ is only my
117:240,01[I  ]| peculiar way of looking at it.  Well, all I want is that$3$
117:240,02[I  ]| he should give me the facts; I can put them together
117:240,03[I  ]| quick enough, once I have got them."  
117:240,03['  ]| And she added 
117:240,04['  ]| that$3$ 
117:240,04@i   | Mr%*Bantling had been so$5#1$ good as to$9$ promise to$9$
117:240,05@i   | come and take her out that$6#2$ afternoon.
117:240,06[B  ]| "To$9$ take you where?" 
117:240,06['  ]| Ralph ventured to$9$ enquire.
117:240,07['  ]| 
117:240,08[I  ]| "To$4$ Buckingham*Palace.  He is going to$9$ show 
117:240,09[I  ]| me over it, so$3$ that$3$ I may get some idea how they
117:240,10[I  ]| live."
117:240,11[B  ]| "Ah," 
117:240,11['  ]| said Ralph, 
117:240,11[B  ]| "we leave you in$4$ good hands.
117:240,12[B  ]| The first thing we shall hear is that$3$ you are invited to$4$
117:240,13[B  ]| Windsor*Castle."
117:240,14[I  ]| "If they ask me, I shall certainly go.  Once I get
117:240,15[I  ]| started I am not afraid.  But for$4$ all that$6#2$," 
117:240,15['  ]| Henrietta
117:240,16['  ]| added in$4$ a moment, 
117:240,16[I  ]| "I am not satisfied; I am not
117:240,17[I  ]| at peace about Isabel."
117:240,18[B  ]| "What is her last misdemeanour?"
117:240,19[I  ]| "Well, I have told you before, and I suppose there is
117:240,20[I  ]| no$2$ harm in$4$ my going on$5$.  I always finish a subject
117:240,21[I  ]| that$6#1$ I take up$5$.  Mr%*Goodwood was here last
117:240,22[I  ]| night."
117:240,23['  ]| Ralph opened his eyes; he even blushed a little ~~
117:240,24['  ]| his blush being the sign of an emotion somewhat
117:240,25['  ]| acute.  He remembered that$3$ Isabel, in$4$ separating from
117:240,26['  ]| him in$4$ Winchester*Square, had repudiated his suggestion
117:240,27['  ]| that$3$ her motive in$4$ doing so$5#2$ was the expectation
117:240,28['  ]| of a visitor at Pratt's*Hotel, and it was a new pang
117:240,29['  ]| to$4$ him to$9$ have to$9$ suspect her of duplicity.  On$4$ the
117:240,30['  ]| other hand, he quickly said to$4$ himself, 
117:240,30@b   | what concern
117:240,31@b   | was it of his that$3$ she should have made an appointment 
117:240,32@b   | with a lover?  Had it not been thought graceful
117:241,01@b   | in$4$ every age that$3$ young ladies should make a mystery
117:241,02@b   | of such appointments?  
117:241,02['  ]| Ralph gave Miss*Stackpole
117:241,03['  ]| a diplomatic answer.  
117:241,03[B  ]| "I should have thought
117:241,04[B  ]| that$3$, with the views you expressed to$4$ me the other
117:241,05[B  ]| day, this would satisfy you perfectly."
117:241,06[I  ]| "That$3$ he should come to$9$ see her?  That$6#2$ was very
117:241,07[I  ]| well, as far as it went.  It was a little plot of mine; I
117:241,08[I  ]| let him know that$3$ we were in$4$ London, and when it
117:241,09[I  ]| had been arranged that$3$ I should spend the evening
117:241,10[I  ]| out I sent him a word ~the word we just utter to$4$ the
117:241,11[I  ]| ""wise.""   I hoped he would find her alone; I will$1$ not pretend
117:241,12[I  ]| I did not hope that$3$ you would be out of the way.  He
117:241,13[I  ]| came to$9$ see her, but he might as well have stayed
117:241,14[I  ]| away."
117:241,15[B  ]| "Isabel was cruel?" 
117:241,15['  ]| ~~ and Ralph's face lighted
117:241,16['  ]| with the relief of his cousin's not having shown duplicity.
117:241,17['  ]| 
117:241,18[I  ]| "I do not exactly know what passed between them.
117:241,19[I  ]| But she gave him no$2$ satisfaction ~~ she sent him back
117:241,20[I  ]| to$4$ America."
117:241,21[B  ]| "Poor Mr%*Goodwood!"  
117:241,21['  ]| Ralph sighed.
117:241,22[I  ]| "Her only idea seems to$9$ be to$9$ get rid of him,"
117:241,23['  ]| Henrietta went on$5$.
117:241,24[B  ]| "Poor Mr%*Goodwood!" 
117:241,24['  ]| Ralph repeated.  The
117:241,25['  ]| exclamation, it must be confessed, was automatic;
117:241,26['  ]| it failed exactly to$9$ express his thoughts, which$6#1$ were
117:241,27['  ]| taking another line.
117:241,28[I  ]| "You do not say that$6#2$ as if you felt it.  I do not believe
117:241,29[I  ]| you care."
117:241,30[B  ]| "Ah," 
117:241,30['  ]| said Ralph, 
117:241,30[B  ]| "you must remember that$3$ I
117:241,31[B  ]| do not know this interesting young man ~~ that$3$ I have
117:241,32[B  ]| never seen him."
117:242,01[I  ]| "Well, I shall see him, and I shall tell him not to$9$
117:242,02[I  ]| give up$5$.  If I did not believe Isabel would come round,"
117:242,03['  ]| Miss*Stackpole added ~~ 
117:242,03[I  ]| "well, I would give up$5$ myself.
117:242,04[I  ]| I mean I would give \her\ up$5$!"
118:243,01['  ]| It had occurred to$4$ Ralph that$3$, in$4$ the conditions,
118:243,02['  ]| Isabel's parting with her friend might be of a slightly
118:243,03['  ]| embarrassed nature, and he went down to$4$ the door
118:243,04['  ]| of the hotel in$4$ advance of his cousin, who$6#1$, after a
118:243,05['  ]| slight delay, followed with the traces of an unaccepted
118:243,06['  ]| remonstrance, as he thought, in$4$ her eyes.  The two
118:243,07['  ]| made the journey to$4$ Gardencourt in$4$ almost unbroken
118:243,08['  ]| silence, and the servant who$6#1$ met them at the station
118:243,09['  ]| had no$2$ better news to$9$ give them of Mr%*Touchett ~~ a
118:243,10['  ]| fact which$6#1$ caused Ralph to$9$ congratulate himself afresh
118:243,11['  ]| on$4$ Sir*Matthew*Hope's having promised to$9$ come
118:243,12['  ]| down in$4$ the five o'clock train and spend the night.
118:243,13['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett, he learned, on$4$ reaching home, had
118:243,14['  ]| been constantly with the old man and was with him
118:243,15['  ]| at that$6#2$ moment; and this fact made Ralph say to$4$
118:243,16['  ]| himself that$3$, 
118;243,16@b   | after all, what his mother wanted was
118:243,17@b   | just easy occasion.  The finer natures were those that$6#1$
118:243,18@b   | shone at the larger times.  
118:243,18['  ]| Isabel went to$4$ her own
118:243,19['  ]| room, noting throughout the house that$6#2$ perceptible
118:243,20['  ]| hush which$6#1$ precedes a crisis.  At the end of an hour,
118:243,21['  ]| however, she came downstairs in$4$ search of her aunt,
118:243,22['  ]| whom she wished to$9$ ask about Mr%*Touchett.  She
118:243,23['  ]| went into the library, but Mrs%*Touchett was not 
118:243,24['  ]| there, and as the weather, which$6#1$ had been damp and
118:243,25['  ]| chill, was now altogether spoiled, it was not probable
118:243,26['  ]| she had gone for$4$ her usual walk in$4$ the grounds.  Isabel
118:243,27['  ]| was on$4$ the point of ringing to$9$ send a question to$4$ her
118:244,01['  ]| room, when this purpose quickly yielded to$4$ an unexpected
118:244,02['  ]| sound ~~ the sound of low music proceeding
118:244,03['  ]| apparently from the saloon.  She knew 
118:244,03@a   | her aunt never
118:244,04@a   | touched the piano, and the musician was therefore
118:244,05@a   | probably Ralph, who$6#1$ played for$4$ his own amusement.
118:244,06@a   | That$3$ he should have resorted to$4$ this recreation at the
118:244,07@a   | present time indicated apparently that$3$ his anxiety
118:244,08@a   | about his father had been relieved; 
118:244,08['  ]| so$3$ that$3$ the girl
118:244,09['  ]| took her way, almost with restored cheer, toward the
118:244,10['  ]| source of the harmony.  The drawing-room at Gardencourt
118:244,11['  ]| was an apartment of great distances, and,
118:244,12['  ]| as the piano was placed at the end of it furthest removed
118:244,13['  ]| from the door at which$6#1$ she entered, her arrival
118:244,14['  ]| was not noticed by$4$ the person seated before the 
118:244,15['  ]| instrument.  This person was neither Ralph nor his
118:244,16['  ]| mother; it was a lady whom Isabel immediately saw
118:244,17['  ]| to$9$ be a stranger to$4$ herself, though her back was presented
118:244,18['  ]| to$4$ the door.  This back ~~ an ample and well-dressed
118:244,19['  ]| one ~~ Isabel viewed for$4$ some moments with
118:244,20['  ]| surprise.  The lady was of course a visitor who$6#1$ had
118:244,21['  ]| arrived during her absence and who$6#1$ had not been
118:244,22['  ]| mentioned by$4$ either of the servants ~~ one of them
118:244,23['  ]| her aunt's maid ~~ of whom she had had speech since
118:244,24['  ]| her return.  Isabel had already learned, however,
118:244,25['  ]| with what treasures of reserve the function of receiving
118:244,26['  ]| orders may be accompanied, and she was particularly
118:244,27['  ]| conscious of having been treated with dryness
118:244,28['  ]| by$4$ her aunt's maid, through whose hands she had
118:244,29['  ]| slipped perhaps a little too mistrustfully and with an
118:244,30['  ]| effect of plumage but the more lustrous.  
118:244,30@a   | The advent
118:244,31@a   | of a guest was in$4$ itself far from disconcerting; 
118:244,31['  ]| she
118:244,32['  ]| had not yet divested herself of a young faith that$3$ 
118:244,32@a   | each
118:245,01@a   | new acquaintance would exert some momentous
118:245,02@a   | influence on$4$ her life.  
118:245,02['  ]| By$4$ the time she had made these
118:245,03['  ]| reflexions she became aware that$3$ the lady at the 
118:245,04['  ]| piano played remarkably well.  
118:245,04@a   | She was playing
118:245,05@a   | something of Schubert's ~~ 
118:245,05['  ]| Isabel knew not what, but
118:245,06['  ]| recognised Schubert ~~ 
118:245,06@a   | and she touched the piano
118:245,07@a   | with a discretion of her own.  It showed skill, it
118:245,08@a   | showed feeling; 
118:245,08['  ]| Isabel sat down noiselessly on$4$ the 
118:245,09['  ]| nearest chair and waited till the end of the piece.
118:245,10['  ]| When it was finished she felt a strong desire to$9$ thank
118:245,11['  ]| the player, and rose from her seat to$9$ do so$5#2$, while at
118:245,12['  ]| the same time the stranger turned quickly round, as
118:245,13['  ]| if but just aware of her presence.
118:245,14[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is very beautiful, and your playing makes
118:245,15[A  ]| it more beautiful still," 
118:245,15['  ]| said Isabel with all the young
118:245,16['  ]| radiance with which$6#1$ she usually uttered a truthful
118:245,17['  ]| rapture.
118:245,18[H  ]| "You do not think I disturbed Mr%*Touchett then?"
118:245,19['  ]| the musician answered as sweetly as this compliment
118:245,20['  ]| deserved.  
118:245,20[H  ]| "The house is so$5#1$ large and his room so$5#1$
118:245,21[H  ]| far away that$3$ I thought I might venture, especially as
118:245,22[H  ]| I played just ~~ just \9du*bout*des*doigts.\"
118:245,23[A  ]| "She is a Frenchwoman," 
118:245,23['  ]| Isabel said to$4$ herself;
118:245,24[A  ]| "she says that$3$ as if she were French."  
118:245,24['  ]| And this
118:245,25['  ]| supposition made the visitor more interesting to$4$ our
118:245,26['  ]| speculative heroine.  
118:245,26[A  ]| "I hope my uncle is doing well,"
118:245,27['  ]| Isabel added.  
118:245,27[A  ]| "I should think that$3$ to$9$ hear such
118:245,28[A  ]| lovely music as that$6#2$ would really make him feel better."
118:245,29['  ]| The lady smiled and discriminated.  
118:245,29[H  ]| "I am afraid
118:245,30[H  ]| there are moments in$4$ life when even Schubert has
118:245,31[H  ]| nothing to$9$ say to$4$ us.  We must admit, however, that$3$
118:245,32[H  ]| they are our worst."
118:246,01[A  ]| "I am not in$4$ that$6#2$ state now then," 
118:246,01['  ]| said Isabel.  
118:246,01[A  ]| "On$4$
118:246,02[A  ]| the contrary I should be so$5#1$ glad if you would play 
118:246,03[A  ]| something more."
118:246,04[H  ]| "If it will$1$ give you pleasure ~~ delighted."  
118:246,04['  ]| And
118:246,05['  ]| this obliging person took her place again and struck
118:246,06['  ]| a few chords, while Isabel sat down nearer the instrument.
118:246,07['  ]| Suddenly the new-comer stopped with
118:246,08['  ]| her hands on$4$ the keys, half-turning and looking over
118:246,09['  ]| her shoulder.  She was forty years old and not pretty,
118:246,10['  ]| though her expression charmed.  
118:246,10[H  ]| "Pardon me," 
118:246,10['  ]| she
118:246,11['  ]| said; 
118:246,11[H  ]| "but are you the niece ~~ the young American?"
118:246,12[H  ]| 
118:246,13[A  ]| "I am my aunt's niece," 
118:246,13['  ]| Isabel replied with simplicity.
118:246,14['  ]| 
118:246,15['  ]| The lady at the piano sat still a moment longer,
118:246,16['  ]| casting her air of interest over her shoulder.  
118:246,16[H  ]| "That$6#2$ is
118:246,17[H  ]| very well; we are compatriots."  
118:246,17['  ]| And then she began
118:246,18['  ]| to$9$ play.
118:246,19[A  ]| "Ah then she is not French," 
118:246,19['  ]| Isabel murmured;
118:246,20['  ]| and as the opposite supposition had made her romantic
118:246,21['  ]| it might have seemed that$3$ this revelation would
118:246,22['  ]| have marked a drop.  But such was not the fact;
118:246,23@a   | rarer even than to$9$ be French seemed it to$9$ be American
118:246,24@a   | on$4$ such interesting terms.
118:246,25['  ]| The lady played in$4$ the same manner as before,
118:246,26['  ]| softly and solemnly, and while she played the shadows
118:246,27['  ]| deepened in$4$ the room.  The autumn twilight gathered
118:246,28['  ]| in$5$, and from her place Isabel could see the rain,
118:246,29['  ]| which$6#1$ had now begun in$4$ earnest, washing the cold-looking
118:246,30['  ]| lawn and the wind shaking the great trees.
118:246,31['  ]| At last, when the music had ceased, her companion
118:246,32['  ]| got up$5$ and, coming nearer with a smile, before Isabel
118:247,01['  ]| had time to$9$ thank her again, said: 
118:247,01[H  ]| "I am very glad
118:247,02[H  ]| you have come back; I have heard a great deal about
118:247,03[H  ]| you."
118:247,04['  ]| Isabel thought her a very attractive person, but
118:247,05['  ]| nevertheless spoke with a certain abruptness in$4$ reply
118:247,06['  ]| to$4$ this speech.  
118:247,06[A  ]| "From whom have you heard about
118:247,07[A  ]| me?"
118:247,08['  ]| The stranger hesitated a single moment and then,
118:247,09[H  ]| "From your uncle," 
118:247,09['  ]| she answered.  
118:247,09[H  ]| "I have been here
118:247,10[H  ]| three days, and the first day he let me come and pay
118:247,11[H  ]| him a visit in$4$ his room.  Then he talked constantly
118:247,12[H  ]| of you."
118:247,13[A  ]| "As you did not know me that$6#2$ must rather have
118:247,14[A  ]| bored you."
118:247,15[H  ]| "It made me want to$9$ know you.  All the more that$3$
118:247,16[H  ]| since then ~~ your aunt being so$5#1$ much with Mr%*Touchett
118:247,17[H  ]| ~~ I have been quite alone and have got
118:247,18[H  ]| rather tired of my own society.  I have not chosen
118:247,19[H  ]| a good moment for$4$ my visit."
118:247,20['  ]| A servant had come in$4$ with lamps and was presently
118:247,21['  ]| followed by$4$ another bearing the tea-tray.  On$4$
118:247,22['  ]| the appearance of this repast Mrs%*Touchett had
118:247,23['  ]| apparently been notified, for$3$ she now arrived and
118:247,24['  ]| addressed herself to$4$ the tea-pot.  Her greeting to$4$ her
118:247,25['  ]| niece did not differ materially from her manner of
118:247,26['  ]| raising the lid of this receptacle in$4$ order to$9$ glance
118:247,27['  ]| at the contents: in$4$ neither act was it becoming to$9$
118:247,28['  ]| make a show of avidity.  Questioned about her
118:247,29['  ]| husband 
118:247,29@g   | she was unable to$9$ say he was better; but
118:247,30@g   | the local doctor was with him, and much light was
118:247,31@g   | expected from this gentleman's consultation with
118:247,32@g   | Sir*Matthew*Hope.
118:248,01[G  ]| "I suppose you two ladies have made acquaintance,"
118:248,02['  ]| she pursued.  
118:248,02[G  ]| "If you have not I recommend
118:248,03[G  ]| you to$9$ do so$5#2$; for$3$ so$5#1$ long as we continue ~~ Ralph and
118:248,04[G  ]| I ~~ to$9$ cluster about Mr%*Touchett's bed you are not
118:248,05[G  ]| likely to$9$ have much society but each other."
118:248,06[A  ]| "I know nothing about you but that$3$ you are a great
118:248,07[A  ]| musician," 
118:248,07['  ]| Isabel said to$4$ the visitor.
118:248,08[G  ]| "There is a good deal more than that$6#2$ to$9$ know,"
118:248,09['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett affirmed in$4$ her little dry tone.
118:248,10[H  ]| "A very little of it, I am sure, will$1$ content Miss*Archer!"
118:248,11['  ]| the lady exclaimed with a light laugh.
118:248,12[H  ]| "I am an old friend of your aunt's.  I have lived much
118:248,13[H  ]| in$4$ Florence.  I am Madame*Merle."  
118:248,13['  ]| She made this
118:248,14['  ]| last announcement as if she were referring to$4$ a person
118:248,15['  ]| of tolerably distinct identity.  For$4$ Isabel, however,
118:248,16['  ]| it represented little; she could only continue to$9$ feel
118:248,17['  ]| that$3$ 
118:248,17@a   | Madame*Merle had as charming a manner as
118:248,18@a   | any she had ever encountered.
118:248,19[G  ]| "She is not a foreigner in$4$ spite of her name," 
118:248,19['  ]| said
118:248,20['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett.  
118:248,20[G  ]| "She was born ~~ I always forget
118:248,21[G  ]| where you were born."
118:248,22[H  ]| "It is hardly worth while then I should tell you."
118:248,23[G  ]| "On$4$ the contrary," 
118:248,23['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett, who$6#1$ rarely
118:248,24['  ]| missed a logical point; 
118:248,24[G  ]| "if I remembered your telling
118:248,25[G  ]| me would be quite superfluous."
118:248,26['  ]| Madame*Merle glanced at Isabel with a sort of
118:248,27['  ]| world-wide smile, a thing that$6#1$ over-reached frontiers.
118:248,28[H  ]| "I was born under the shadow of the national banner."
118:248,29[G  ]| "She is too fond of mystery," 
118:248,29['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett;
118:248,30[G  ]| "that$6#2$ is her great fault."
118:248,31[H  ]| "Ah," 
118:248,31['  ]| exclaimed Madame*Merle, 
118:248,31[H  ]| "I have great
118:248,32[H  ]| faults, but I do not think that$6#2$ is one of them; it certainly
118:249,01[H  ]| is not the greatest.  I came into the world in$4$ the
118:249,02[H  ]| Brooklyn navy-yard.  My father was a high officer in$4$
118:249,03[H  ]| the United*States Navy, and had a post ~~ a post of
118:249,04[H  ]| responsibility ~~ in$4$ that$6#2$ establishment at the time.
118:249,05[H  ]| I suppose I ought to$9$ love the sea, but I hate it.  That$6#2$ is
118:249,06[H  ]| why I do not return to$4$ America.  I love the land; the
118:249,07[H  ]| great thing is to$9$ love something."
118:249,08['  ]| Isabel, as a dispassionate witness, had not been
118:249,09['  ]| struck with the force of Mrs%*Touchett's characterisation
118:249,10['  ]| of her visitor, who$6#1$ had an expressive, communicative,
118:249,11['  ]| responsive face, by$4$ no$2$ means of the sort which$6#1$, 
118:249,12['  ]| to$4$ Isabel's mind suggested a secretive dispositon.  It
118:249,13['  ]| was a face that$6#1$ told of an amplitude of nature and of
118:249,14['  ]| quick and free motions and, though it had no$2$ regular
118:249,15['  ]| beauty, was in$4$ the highest degree engaging and
118:249,16['  ]| attaching.  Madame*Merle was a tall, fair, smooth
118:249,17['  ]| woman; everything in$4$ her person was round and 
118:249,18['  ]| replete, though without those accumulations which$6#1$
118:249,19['  ]| suggest heaviness.  Her features were thick but in$4$
118:249,20['  ]| perfect proportion and harmony, and her complexion
118:249,21['  ]| had a healthy clearness.  Her grey eyes were
118:249,22['  ]| small but full of light and incapable of stupidity ~~
118:249,23['  ]| incapable, according to$4$ some people, even of tears;
118:249,24['  ]| she had a liberal, full-rimmed mouth which$6#1$ when she
118:249,25['  ]| smiled drew itself upward to$4$ the left side in$4$ a manner
118:249,26['  ]| that$6#1$ most people thought very odd, some very affected
118:249,27['  ]| and a few very graceful.  Isabel inclined to$9$ range herself
118:249,28['  ]| in$4$ the last category.  Madame*Merle had thick,
118:249,29['  ]| fair hair, arranged somehow "classically" and as
118:249,30['  ]| if she were a Bust, Isabel judged ~~ a Juno or a 
118:249,31['  ]| Niobe; and large white hands, of a perfect shape,
118:249,32['  ]| a shape so$5#1$ perfect that$3$ their possessor, preferring to$9$
118:250,01['  ]| leave them unadorned, wore no$2$ jewelled rings.  Isabel
118:250,02['  ]| had taken her at first, as we have seen, for$4$ a Frenchwoman;
118:250,03['  ]| but extended observation might have ranked 
118:250,04['  ]| her as a German ~~ a German of high degree, perhaps
118:250,05['  ]| an Austrian, a baroness, a countess, a princess.
118:250,06['  ]| It would never have been supposed she had come 
118:250,07['  ]| into the world in$4$ Brooklyn ~~ though one could doubtless
118:250,08['  ]| not have carried through any argument that$6#1$ the
118:250,09['  ]| air of distinction marking her in$4$ so$5#1$ eminent a degree
118:250,10['  ]| was inconsistent with such a birth.  It was true that$3$
118:250,11['  ]| the national banner had floated immediately over
118:250,12['  ]| her cradle, and the breezy freedom of the stars and
118:250,13['  ]| stripes might have shed an influence upon$4$ the attitude
118:250,14['  ]| she there took towards life.  And yet she had
118:250,15['  ]| evidently nothing of the fluttered, flapping quality of
118:250,16['  ]| a morsel of bunting in$4$ the wind; her manner expressed 
118:250,17['  ]| the repose and confidence which$6#1$ come from
118:250,18['  ]| a large experience.  Experience, however, had not
118:250,19['  ]| quenched her youth; it had simply made her sympathetic
118:250,20['  ]| and supple.  She was in$4$ a word a woman of
118:250,21['  ]| strong impulses kept in$4$ admirable order.  This commended
118:250,22['  ]| itself to$4$ Isabel as an ideal combination.
118:250,23['  ]| The girl made these reflexions while the three
118:250,24['  ]| ladies sat at their tea, but that$6#2$ ceremony was interrupted
118:250,25['  ]| before long by$4$ the arrival of the great doctor
118:250,26['  ]| from London, who$6#1$ had been immediately ushered
118:250,27['  ]| into the drawing-room.  Mrs%*Touchett took him off
118:250,28['  ]| to$4$ the library for$4$ a private talk; and then Madame*Merle
118:250,29['  ]| and Isabel parted, to$9$ meet again at dinner.  The
118:250,30['  ]| idea of seeing more of this interesting woman did much
118:250,31['  ]| to$9$ mitigate Isabel's sense of the sadness now settling
118:250,32['  ]| on$4$ Gardencourt.
118:251,01['  ]| When she came into the drawing-room before dinner
118:251,02['  ]| she found the place empty; but in$4$ the course
118:251,03['  ]| of a moment Ralph arrived.  His anxiety about his
118:251,04['  ]| father had been lighted; Sir*Matthew*Hope's view
118:251,05['  ]| of his condition was less depressed than his own had
118:251,06['  ]| been.  The doctor recommended that$3$ the nurse alone
118:251,07['  ]| should remain with the old man for$4$ the next three or
118:251,08['  ]| four hours; so$3$ that$3$ Ralph, his mother and the great 
118:251,09['  ]| physician himself were free to$9$ dine at table.  Mrs%*Touchett
118:251,10['  ]| and Sir*Matthew appeared; Madame*Merle
118:251,11['  ]| was the last.
118:251,12['  ]| Before she came Isabel spoke of her to$4$ Ralph,
118:251,13['  ]| who$6#1$ was standing before the fireplace.  
118:251,13[A  ]| "Pray who$6#2$
118:251,14[A  ]| is this Madame*Merle?"
118:251,15[B  ]| "The cleverest woman I know, not excepting yourself,"
118:251,16['  ]| said Ralph.
118:251,17[A  ]| "I thought she seemed very pleasant."
118:251,18[B  ]| "I was sure you would think her very pleasant."
118:251,19[A  ]| "Is that$6#2$ why you invited her?"
118:251,20[B  ]| "I did not invite her, and when we came back from
118:251,21[B  ]| London I did not know she was here.  No*one invited
118:251,22[B  ]| her.  She is a friend of my mother's, and just after
118:251,23[B  ]| you and I went to$4$ town my mother got a note from
118:251,24[B  ]| her.  She had arrived in$4$ England (she usually lives
118:251,25[B  ]| abroad, though she has first and last spent a good
118:251,26[B  ]| deal of time here), and asked leave to$9$ come down for$4$
118:251,27[B  ]| a few days.  She is a woman who$6#1$ can make such proposals
118:251,28[B  ]| with perfect confidence; she is so$5#1$ welcome
118:251,29[B  ]| wherever she goes.  And with my mother there could
118:251,30[B  ]| be no$2$ question of hesitating; she is the one person in$4$
118:251,31[B  ]| the world whom my mother very much admires.  If
118:251,32[B  ]| she were not herself (which$6#1$ she after all much prefers),
118:252,01[B  ]| she would like$1$ to$9$ be Madame*Merle.  It would
118:252,02[B  ]| indeed be a great change."
118:252,03[A  ]| "Well, she is very charming," 
118:252,03['  ]| said Isabel.  
118:252,03[A  ]| "And
118:252,04[A  ]| she plays beautifully."
118:252,05[B  ]| "She does everything beautifully.  She is complete."
118:252,06[B  ]| 
118:252,07['  ]| Isabel looked at her cousin a moment.  
118:252,07[A  ]| "You do not
118:252,08[A  ]| like$1$ her."
118:252,09[B  ]| "On$4$ the contrary, I was once in$4$ love with her."
118:252,10[A  ]| "And she did not care for$4$ you, and that$6#2$ is why you
118:252,11[A  ]| do not like$1$ her."
118:252,12[B  ]| "How can we have discussed such things?  Monsieur*Merle
118:252,13[B  ]| was then living."
118:252,14[A  ]| "Is he dead now?"
118:252,15[B  ]| "So$5#2$ she says."
118:252,16[A  ]| "Do not you believe her?"
118:252,17[B  ]| "Yes, because the statement agrees with the probabilities.  
118:252,18[B  ]| The husband of Madame*Merle would be
118:252,19[B  ]| likely to$9$ pass away."
118:252,20['  ]| Isabel gazed at her cousing again.  
118:252,20[A  ]| "I do not know
118:252,21[A  ]| what you mean.  You mean something ~~ that$3$ you
118:252,22[A  ]| do not mean.  What was Monsieur*Merle?"
118:252,23[B  ]| "The husband of Madame."
118:252,24[A  ]| "You are very odious.  Has she any children?"
118:252,25[B  ]| "Not the least little child ~~ fortunately."
118:252,26[A  ]| "Fortunately?"
118:252,27[B  ]| "I mean fortunately for$4$ the child.  She would be sure
118:252,28[B  ]| to$9$ spoil it."
118:252,29['  ]| Isabel was apparently on$4$ the point of assuring her
118:252,30['  ]| cousin for$4$ the third time that$3$ he was odious; but the
118:252,31['  ]| discussion was interrupted by$4$ the arrival of the lady
118:252,32['  ]| who$6#1$ was the topic of it.  She came rustling in$5$ quickly,
118:253,01['  ]| apologising for$4$ being late, fastening a bracelet, dressed
118:253,02['  ]| in$4$ dark blue satin, which$6#1$ exposed a white bosom that$6#1$
118:253,03['  ]| was ineffectually covered by$4$ a curious silver necklace.
118:253,04['  ]| Ralph offered her his arm with the exaggerated
118:253,05['  ]| alertness of a man who$6#1$ was no$2$ longer a lover.
118:253,06['  ]| Even if this had still been his condition, however,
118:253,07['  ]| Ralph had other things to$9$ think about.  The great
118:253,08['  ]| doctor spent the night at Gardencourt and, returning
118:253,09['  ]| to$4$ London on$4$ the morrow, after another consultation
118:253,10['  ]| with Mr%*Touchett's own medical adviser, concurred
118:253,11['  ]| in$4$ Ralph's desire that$3$ he should see the patient again
118:253,12['  ]| on$4$ the day following.  On$4$ the day following Sir*Matthew*Hope
118:253,13['  ]| reappeared at Gardencourt, and now
118:253,14['  ]| took a less encouraging view of the old man, who$6#1$ had
118:253,15['  ]| grown worse in$4$ the twenty-four hours.  His feebleness
118:253,16['  ]| was extreme, and to$4$ his son, who$6#1$ constantly sat by$4$ his
118:253,17['  ]| bedside, it often seemed that$3$ his end must be at hand.
118:253,18['  ]| The local doctor, a very sagacious man, in$4$ whom
118:253,19['  ]| Ralph had secretly more confidence than in$4$ his distinguished
118:253,20['  ]| colleague, was constantly in$4$ attendance, and
118:253,21['  ]| Sir*Matthew*Hope came back several times.  Mr%*Touchett
118:253,22['  ]| was much of the time unconscious; he slept
118:253,23['  ]| a great deal; he rarely spoke.  Isabel had a great desire 
118:253,24['  ]| to$9$ be useful to$4$ him and was allowed to$9$ watch with
118:253,25['  ]| him at hours when his other attendants (of whom Mrs%*Touchett
118:253,26['  ]| was not the least regular) went to$9$ take rest.
118:253,27['  ]| He never seemed to$9$ know her, and she always said to$4$
118:253,28['  ]| herself 
118:253,28[A  ]| "Suppose he should die while I am sitting
118:253,29[A  ]| here;" 
118:253,29['  ]| an idea which$6#1$ excited her and kept her awake.
118:253,30['  ]| Once he opened his eyes for$4$ a while and fixed them
118:253,31['  ]| upon$4$ her intelligently, but when she went to$4$ him,
118:253,32['  ]| hoping he would recognise her, he closed them and 
118:254,01['  ]| relapsed into stupor.  The day after this, however, he
118:254,02['  ]| revived for$4$ a longer time; but on$4$ this occasion Ralph
118:254,03['  ]| only was with him.  The old man began to$9$ talk, much
118:254,04['  ]| to$4$ his son's satisfaction, who$6#1$ assured him that$3$ 
118:254,04@b   | they
118:254,05@b   | should presently have him sitting up$5$.
118:254,06[F  ]| "No$7$, my boy," 
118:254,06['  ]| said Mr%*Touchett, 
118:254,06[F  ]| "not unless you
118:254,07[F  ]| bury me in$4$ a sitting posture, as some of the ancients
118:254,08[F  ]| ~~ was it the ancients? ~~ used to$9$ do."
118:254,09[B  ]| "Ah, daddy, do not talk about that$6#2$," 
118:254,09['  ]| Ralph murmured.
118:254,10[B  ]| "You must not deny that$3$ you are getting
118:254,11[B  ]| better."
118:254,12[F  ]| "There will$1$ be no$2$ need of my denying it if you
118:254,13[F  ]| do not say it," 
118:254,13['  ]| the old man answered.  
118:254,13[F  ]| "Why should
118:254,14[F  ]| we prevaricate just at the last?  We never prevaricated
118:254,15[F  ]| before.  I have got to$9$ die some time, and it is better 
118:254,16[F  ]| to$9$ die when one is sick than when one is well.  I am
118:254,17[F  ]| very sick ~~ as sick as I shall ever be.  I hope you
118:254,18[F  ]| do not want to$9$ prove that$3$ I shall ever be worse than
118:254,19[F  ]| this?  That$6#2$ would be too bad.  You do not?  Well
118:254,20[F  ]| then."
118:254,21['  ]| Having made this excellent point he became quiet;
118:254,22['  ]| but the next time that$3$ Ralph was with him he again
118:254,23['  ]| addressed himself to$4$ conversation.  The nurse had 
118:254,24['  ]| gone to$4$ her supper and Ralph was alone in$4$ charge,
118:254,25['  ]| having just relieved Mrs%*Touchett, who$6#1$ had been on$4$
118:254,26['  ]| guard since dinner.  The room was lighted only by$4$
118:254,27['  ]| the flickering fire, which$6#1$ of late had become necessary,
118:254,28['  ]| and Ralph's tall shadow was projected over wall and 
118:254,29['  ]| ceiling with an outline constantly varying but always
118:254,30['  ]| grotesque.
118:254,31[F  ]| "Who$6#2$ is that$6#2$ with me ~~ is it my son?" 
118:254,31['  ]| the old
118:254,32['  ]| man asked.
118:255,01[B  ]| "Yes, it is your son, daddy."
118:255,02[F  ]| "And is there no*one else?"
118:255,03[B  ]| "No*one else."
118:255,04['  ]| Mr%*Touchett said nothing for$4$ a while; and then,
118:255,05[F  ]| "I want to$9$ talk a little," 
118:255,05['  ]| he went on$5$.
118:255,06[B  ]| "will$1$ not it tire you?" 
118:255,06['  ]| Ralph demurred.
118:255,07[F  ]| "It will$1$ not matter if it does.  I shall have a long rest.
118:255,08[F  ]| I want to$9$ talk about \you\."
118:255,09['  ]| Ralph had drawn nearer to$4$ the bed; he sat leaning
118:255,10['  ]| forward with his hand on$4$ his father's.  
118:255,10[B  ]| "You had better
118:255,11[B  ]| select a brighter topic."
118:255,12[F  ]| "You were always bright; I used to$9$ be proud of
118:255,13[F  ]| your brightness.  I should like$1$ so$5#1$ much to$9$ think you would
118:255,14[F  ]| do something."
118:255,15[B  ]| "If you leave us," 
118:255,15['  ]| said Ralph, 
118:255,15[B  ]| "I shall do nothing
118:255,16[B  ]| but miss you."
118:255,17[F  ]| "That$6#2$ is just what I do not want; it is what I 
118:255,18[F  ]| want to$9$ talk about.  You must get a new interest."
118:255,19[B  ]| "I do not want a new interest, daddy.  I have more
118:255,20[B  ]| old ones than I know what to$9$ do with."
118:255,21['  ]| The old man lay there looking at his son; his face
118:255,22['  ]| was the face of the dying, but his eyes were the eyes
118:255,23['  ]| of Daniel*Touchett.  He seemed to$9$ be reckoning over
118:255,24['  ]| Ralph's interests.  
118:255,24[F  ]| "Of course you have your mother,"
118:255,25['  ]| he said at last.  
118:255,25[F  ]| "You will$1$ take care of her."
118:255,26[B  ]| "My mother will$1$ always take care of herself,"
118:255,27['  ]| Ralph returned.
118:255,28[F  ]| "Well," 
118:255,28['  ]| said his father, 
118:255,28[F  ]| "perhaps as she grows
118:255,29[F  ]| older she will$1$ need a little help."
118:255,30[B  ]| "I shall not see that$6#2$.  She will$1$ outlive me."
118:255,31[F  ]| "Very likely she will$1$; but that$6#2$ is no$2$ reason ~~ !"
118:255,32['  ]| Mr%*Touchett let his phrase die away in$4$ a helpless
118:256,01['  ]| but not quite querulous sigh and remained silent
118:256,02['  ]| again.
118:256,03[B  ]| "Do not trouble yourself about us," 
118:256,03['  ]| said his son.
118:256,04[B  ]| "My mother and I get on$5$ very well together, you
118:256,05[B  ]| know."
118:256,06[F  ]| "You get on$5$ by$4$ always being apart; that$6#2$ is not
118:256,07[F  ]| natural."
118:256,08[B  ]| "If you leave us we shall probably see more of each
118:256,09[B  ]| other."
118:256,10[F  ]| "Well," 
118:256,10['  ]| the old man observed with wandering
118:256,11['  ]| irrelevance, 
118:256,11[F  ]| "it can not be said that$3$ my death will$1$ make
118:256,12[F  ]| much difference in$4$ your mother's life."
118:256,13[B  ]| "It will$1$ probably make more than you think."
118:256,14[F  ]| "Well, she will$1$ have more money," 
118:256,14['  ]| said Mr%*Touchett.
118:256,15[F  ]| "I have left her a good wife's portion, just as if
118:256,16[F  ]| she had been a good wife."
118:256,17[B  ]| "She has been one, daddy, according to$4$ her own 
118:256,18[B  ]| theory.  She has never troubled you."
118:256,19[F  ]| "Ah, some troubles are pleasant," 
118:256,19['  ]| Mr%*Touchett
118:256,20['  ]| murmured.  
118:256,20[F  ]| "Those you have given me for$4$ instance.
118:256,21[F  ]| But your mother has been less ~~ less ~~ what shall I
118:256,22[F  ]| call it?  less out of the way since I have been ill.  I presume
118:256,23[F  ]| she knows I have noticed it."
118:256,24[B  ]| "I shall certainly tell her so$5#2$; I am so$5#1$ glad you mention
118:256,25[B  ]| it."
118:256,26[F  ]| "It will$1$ not make any difference to$4$ her; she does not
118:256,27[F  ]| do it to$9$ please me.  She does it to$9$ please ~~ to$9$ please ~~ "
118:256,28['  ]| And he lay a while trying to$9$ think why she did it.
118:256,29[F  ]| "She does it because it suits her.  But that$6#2$ is not what
118:256,30[F  ]| I want to$9$ talk about," 
118:256,30['  ]| he added.  
118:256,30[F  ]| "It is about \you\.
118:256,31[F  ]| You will$1$ be very well off."
118:256,32[B  ]| "Yes," 
118:256,32['  ]| said Ralph, 
118:256,32[B  ]| "I know that$6#2$.  But I hope
118:257,01[B  ]| you have not forgotten the talk we had a year ago ~~
118:257,02[B  ]| when I told you exactly what money I should need
118:257,03[B  ]| and begged you to$9$ make some good use of the rest."
118:257,04[F  ]| "Yes, yes, I remember.  I made a new will$0$ ~~ in$4$
118:257,05[F  ]| a few days.  I suppose it was the first time such a 
118:257,06[F  ]| thing had happened ~~ a young man trying to$9$ get
118:257,07[F  ]| a will$0$ made against him."
118:257,08[B  ]| "It is not against me," 
118:257,08['  ]| said Ralph.  
118:257,08[B  ]| "It would be
118:257,09[B  ]| against me to$9$ have a large property to$9$ take care of.
118:257,10[B  ]| It is impossible for$4$ a man in$4$ my state of health to$9$
118:257,11[B  ]| spend much money, and enough is as good as a
118:257,12[B  ]| feast."
118:257,13[F  ]| "Well, you will$1$ have enough ~~ and something over.
118:257,14[F  ]| There will$1$ be more than enough for$4$ one ~~ there will$1$
118:257,15[F  ]| be enough for$4$ two."
118:257,16[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is too much," 
118:257,16['  ]| said Ralph.
118:257,17[F  ]| "Ah, do not say that$6#2$.  The best thing you can do,
118:257,18[F  ]| when I am gone, will$1$ be to$9$ marry."
118:257,19['  ]| Ralph had foreseen what his father was coming
118:257,20['  ]| to$4$, and this suggestion was by$4$ no$2$ means fresh.  It
118:257,21['  ]| had long been Mr%*Touchett's most ingenious way
118:257,22['  ]| of taking the cheerful view of his son's possible duration.
118:257,23['  ]| Ralph had usually treated it facetiously; but
118:257,24['  ]| present circumstances proscribed the facetious.  He
118:257,25['  ]| simply fell back in$4$ his chair and returned his father's
118:257,26['  ]| appealing gaze.
118:257,27[F  ]| "If I, with a wife who$6#1$ has not been very fond of
118:257,28[F  ]| me, have had a very happy life," 
118:257,28['  ]| said the old man,
118:257,29['  ]| carrying his ingenuity further still, 
118:257,29[F  ]| "what a life
118:257,30[F  ]| might not you have if you should marry a person different
118:257,31[F  ]| from Mrs%*Touchett.  There are more different
118:257,32[F  ]| from her than there are like$4$ her." 
118:257,32['  ]| Ralph still said
118:258,01['  ]| nothing; and after a pause his father resumed softly:
118:258,02[F  ]| "What do you think of your cousin?"
118:258,03['  ]| At this Ralph started, meeting the question with
118:258,04['  ]| a strained smile.  
118:258,04[B  ]| "Do I understand you to$9$ propose
118:258,05[B  ]| that$3$ I should marry Isabel?"
118:258,06[F  ]| "Well, that$6#2$ is what it comes to$4$ in$4$ the end.  Do not
118:258,07[F  ]| you like$1$ Isabel?"
118:258,08[B  ]| "Yes, very much."  
118:258,08['  ]| And Ralph got up$5$ from his
118:258,09['  ]| chair and wandered over to$4$ the fire.  He stood before
118:258,10['  ]| it an instant and then he stooped and stirred it mechanically.
118:258,11[B  ]| "I like$1$ Isabel very much," 
118:258,11['  ]| he repeated.
118:258,12[F  ]| "Well," 
118:258,12['  ]| said his father, 
118:258,12[F  ]| "I know she likes you.
118:258,13[F  ]| She has told me how much she likes you."
118:258,14[B  ]| "Did she remark that$3$ she would like$1$ to$9$ marry 
118:258,15[B  ]| me?"
118:258,16[F  ]| "No$7$, but she can not have anything against you.
118:258,17[F  ]| And she is the most charming young lady I have ever
118:258,18[F  ]| seen.  And she would be good to$4$ you.  I have thought
118:258,19[F  ]| a great deal about it."
118:258,20[B  ]| "So$5#2$ have I," 
118:258,20['  ]| said Ralph, coming back to$4$ the bedside
118:258,21['  ]| again.  
118:258,21[B  ]| "I do not mind telling you that$6#2$."
118:258,22[F  ]| "You \are\ in$4$ love with her then?  I should think
118:258,23[F  ]| you would be.  It is as if she came over on$4$ purpose."
118:258,24[B  ]| "No$7$, I am not in$4$ love with her; but I should be
118:258,25[B  ]| if ~~ if certain things were different."
118:258,26[F  ]| "Ah, things are always different from what they
118:258,27[F  ]| might be," 
118:258,27['  ]| said the old man.  
118:258,27[F  ]| "If you wait for$4$ them
118:258,28[F  ]| to$9$ change you will$1$ never do anything.  I do not know
118:258,29[F  ]| whether you know," 
118:258,29['  ]| he went on$5$; 
118:258,29[F  ]| "but I suppose 
118:258,30[F  ]| there is no$2$ harm in$4$ my alluding to$4$ it at such an hour
118:258,31[F  ]| as this: there was some*one wanted to$9$ marry Isabel
118:258,32[F  ]| the other day, and she would not have him."
118:259,01[B  ]| "I know she refused Warburton: he told me himself."
118:259,02[B  ]| 
118:259,03[F  ]| "Well, that$6#2$ proves there is a chance for$4$ somebody
118:259,04[F  ]| else."
118:259,05[B  ]| "Somebody else took his chance the other day in$4$ 
118:259,06[B  ]| London ~~ and got nothing by$4$ it."
118:259,07[F  ]| "Was it you?" 
118:259,07['  ]| Mr%*Touchett eagerly asked.
118:259,08[B  ]| "No$7$, it was an older friend; a poor gentleman who$6#1$
118:259,09[B  ]| came over from America to$9$ see about it."
118:259,10[F  ]| "Well, I am sorry for$4$ him, whoever he was.  But
118:259,11[F  ]| it only proves what I say ~~ that$3$ the way is open to$4$
118:259,12[F  ]| you."
118:259,13[B  ]| "If it is, dear father, it is all the greater pity that$3$
118:259,14[B  ]| I am unable to$9$ tread it.  I have not many convictions;
118:259,15[B  ]| but I have three or four that$6#1$ I hold strongly.  One is
118:259,16[B  ]| that$3$ people, on$4$ the whole, had better not marry their
118:259,17[B  ]| cousins.  Another is that$3$ people in$4$ an advanced stage
118:259,18[B  ]| of pulmonary disorder had better not marry at all."
118:259,19['  ]| The old man raised his weak hand and moved it
118:259,20['  ]| to$8$ and fro before his face.  
118:259,20[F  ]| "What do you mean by$4$
118:259,21[F  ]| that$6#2$?  You look at things in$4$ a way that$6#1$ would make
118:259,22[F  ]| everything wrong.  What sort of a cousin is a cousin
118:259,23[F  ]| that$6#1$ you had never seen for$4$ more than twenty years
118:259,24[F  ]| of her life?  We are all each other's cousins, and if we
118:259,25[F  ]| stopped at that$6#2$ the human race would die out.  It is
118:259,26[F  ]| just the same with your bad lung.  You are a great
118:259,27[F  ]| deal better than you used to$9$ be.  All you want is to$9$ 
118:259,28[F  ]| lead a natural life.  It is a great deal more natural
118:259,29[F  ]| to$9$ marry a pretty young lady that$6#2$ you are in$4$ love with
118:259,30[F  ]| than it is to$9$ remain single on$4$ false principles."
118:259,31[B  ]| "I am not in$4$ love with Isabel," 
118:259,31['  ]| said Ralph.
118:259,32[F  ]| "You said just now that$3$ you would be if you did not
118:260,01[F  ]| think it wrong.  I want to$9$ prove to$4$ you that$3$ it is not
118:260,02[F  ]| wrong."
118:260,03[B  ]| "It will$1$ only tire you, dear daddy," 
118:260,03['  ]| said Ralph,
118:260,04['  ]| who$6#1$ marvelled at his father's tenacity and at his finding
118:260,05['  ]| strength to$9$ insist.  
118:260,05[B  ]| "Then where shall we all be?"
118:260,06[F  ]| "Where shall you be if I do not provide for$4$ you?
118:260,07[F  ]| You will$1$ not have anything to$9$ do with the bank, and
118:260,08[F  ]| you will$1$ not have me to$9$ take care of.  You say you have
118:260,09[F  ]| so$5#1$ many interests; but I can not make them out."
118:260,10['  ]| Ralph leaned back in$4$ his chair with folded arms;
118:260,11['  ]| his eyes were fixed for$4$ some time in$4$ meditation.  At
118:260,12['  ]| last, with the air of a man fairly mustering courage,
118:260,13[B  ]| "I take a great interest in$4$ my cousin," 
118:260,13['  ]| he said, 
118:260,13[B  ]| "but
118:260,14[B  ]| not the sort of interest you desire.  I shall not live many
118:260,15[B  ]| years; but I hope I shall live long enough to$9$ see what 
118:260,16[B  ]| she does with herself.  She is entirely independent of
118:260,17[B  ]| me; I can exercise very little influence upon$4$ her life.
118:260,18[B  ]| But I should like$1$ to$9$ do something for$4$ her."
118:260,19[F  ]| "What should you like$1$ to$9$ do?"
118:260,20[B  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ put a little wind in$4$ her sails."
118:260,21[F  ]| "What do you mean by$4$ that$6#2$?"
118:260,22[B  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ put it into her power to$9$ do some
118:260,23[B  ]| of the things she wants.  She wants to$9$ see the world
118:260,24[B  ]| for$4$ instance.  I should like$1$ to$9$ put money in$4$ her purse."
118:260,25[F  ]| "Ah, I am glad you have thought of that$6#2$," 
118:260,25['  ]| said the old
118:260,26['  ]| man.  
118:260,26[F  ]| "But I have thought of it too.  I have left her a 
118:260,27[F  ]| legacy ~~ five thousand pounds."
118:260,28[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is capital; it is very kind of you.  But I should
118:260,29[B  ]| like$1$ to$9$ do a little more."
118:260,30['  ]| Something of that$6#2$ veiled acuteness with which$6#1$ it 
118:260,31['  ]| had been on$4$ Daniel*Touchett's part the habit of a 
118:260,32['  ]| lifetime to$9$ listen to$4$ a financial proposition still lingered
118:261,01['  ]| in$4$ the face in$4$ which$6#1$ the invalid had not obliterated
118:261,02['  ]| the man of business.  
118:261,02[F  ]| "I shall be happy to$9$
118:261,03[F  ]| consider it," 
118:261,03['  ]| he said softly.
118:261,04[B  ]| "Isabel is poor then.  My mother tells me that$3$ she
118:261,05[B  ]| has but a few hundred dollars a year.  I should like$1$
118:261,06[B  ]| to$9$ make her rich."
118:261,07[F  ]| "What do you mean by$4$ rich?"
118:261,08[B  ]| "I call people rich when they are able to$9$ meet the
118:261,09[B  ]| requirements of their imagination.  Isabel has a great 
118:261,10[B  ]| deal of imagination."
118:261,11[F  ]| "So$5#2$ have you, my son," 
118:261,11['  ]| said Mr%*Touchett, listening
118:261,12['  ]| very attentively but a little confusedly.
118:261,13[B  ]| "You tell me I shall have money enough for$4$ two.
118:261,14[B  ]| What I want is that$3$ you should kindly relieve me of
118:261,15[B  ]| my superfluity and make it over to$4$ Isabel.  Divide
118:261,16[B  ]| my inheritance into two equal halves and give her
118:261,17[B  ]| the second."
118:261,18[F  ]| "To$9$ do what she likes with?"
118:261,19[B  ]| "Absolutly what she likes."
118:261,20[F  ]| "And without an equivalent?"
118:261,21[B  ]| "What equivalent could there be?"
118:261,22[F  ]| "The one I have already mentioned."
118:261,23[B  ]| "Her marrying ~~ some*one or other?  It is just
118:261,24[B  ]| to$9$ do away with anything of that$6#2$ sort that$3$ I make
118:261,25[B  ]| my suggestion.  If she has an easy income she will$1$
118:261,26[B  ]| never have to$9$ marry for$4$ a support.  That$6#2$ is what I 
118:261,27[B  ]| want cannily to$9$ prevent.  She wishes to$9$ be free, and
118:261,28[B  ]| your bequest will$1$ make her free."
118:261,29[F  ]| "Well, you seem to$9$ have thought it out," 
118:261,29['  ]| said Mr%*Touchett.
118:261,30[F  ]| "But I do not see why you appeal to$4$ me.
118:261,31[F  ]| The money will$1$ be yours, and you can easily give it
118:261,32[F  ]| to$4$ her yourself."
118:262,01['  ]| Ralph openly stared.  
118:262,01[B  ]| "Ah, dear father, \I\ can not offer
118:262,02[B  ]| Isabel money!"
118:262,03['  ]| The old man gave a groan.  
118:262,03[F  ]| "Do not tell me you are
118:262,04[F  ]| not in$4$ love with her!  Do you want \me\ to$9$ have the
118:262,05[F  ]| credit of it?"
118:262,06[B  ]| "Entirely.  I should like$1$ it simply to$9$ be a clause
118:262,07[B  ]| in$4$ your will$0$, without the slightest reference to$4$ me."
118:262,08[F  ]| "Do you want me to$9$ make a new will$0$ then?"
118:262,09[B  ]| "A few words will$1$ do it; you can attend to$4$ it the 
118:262,10[B  ]| next time you feel a little lively."
118:262,11[F  ]| "You must telegraph to$4$ Mr%*Hilary then.  I will$1$ do
118:262,12[F  ]| nothing without my solicitor."
118:262,13[B  ]| "You shall see Mr%*Hilary to-morrow."
118:262,14[F  ]| "He will$1$ think we have quarrelled, you and I," 
118:262,14['  ]| said
118:262,15['  ]| the old man.
118:262,16[B  ]| "Very probably; I shall like$1$ him to$9$ think it," 
118:262,16['  ]| said
118:262,17['  ]| Ralph, smiling; 
118:262,17[B  ]| "and, to$9$ carry out the idea, I give
118:262,18[B  ]| you notice that$3$ I shall be very sharp, quite horrid and
118:262,19[B  ]| strange, with you."
118:262,20['  ]| The humour of this appeared to$9$ touch his father,
118:262,21['  ]| who$6#1$ lay a little while taking it in$5$.  
118:262,21[F  ]| "I will$1$ do anything
118:262,22[F  ]| you like$1$," 
118:262,22['  ]| Mr%*Touchett said at last; 
118:262,22[F  ]| "but I am not
118:262,23[F  ]| sure it is right.  You say you want to$9$ put wind in$4$ her 
118:262,24[F  ]| sails; but are not you afraid of putting too much?"
118:262,25[B  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ see her going before the breeze!"
118:262,26['  ]| Ralph answered.
118:262,27[F  ]| "You speak as if it were for$4$ your mere amusement."
118:262,28[B  ]| "So$5#2$ it is, a good deal."
118:262,29[F  ]| "Well, I do not think I understand," 
118:262,29['  ]| said Mr%*Touchett
118:262,30['  ]| with a sigh.  
118:262,30[F  ]| "Young men are very different
118:262,31[F  ]| from what I was.  When I cared for$4$ a girl ~~ when I
118:262,32[F  ]| was young ~~ I wanted to$9$ do more than look at her.
118:263,01[F  ]| You have scruples that$6#1$ I should not have had, and
118:263,02[F  ]| you have ideas that$6#1$ I should not have had either.  You
118:263,03[F  ]| say Isabel wants to$9$ be free, and that$3$ her being rich
118:263,04[F  ]| will$1$ keep her from marrying for$4$ money.  Do you think
118:263,05[F  ]| that$3$ she is a girl to$9$ do that$6#2$?"
118:263,06[B  ]| "By$4$ no$2$ means.  But she has less money than she
118:263,07[B  ]| has ever had before.  Her father then gave her everything,
118:263,08[B  ]| because he used to$9$ spend his capital.  She has
118:263,09[B  ]| nothing but the crumbs of that$6#2$ feast to$9$ live on$5$, and
118:263,10[B  ]| she does not really know how meagre they are ~~ she
118:263,11[B  ]| has yet to$9$ learn it.  My mother has told me all about
118:263,12[B  ]| it.  Isabel will$1$ learn it when she is really thrown upon$4$
118:263,13[B  ]| the world, and it would be very painful to$4$ me to$9$ think 
118:263,14[B  ]| of her coming to$4$ the consciousness of a lot of wants
118:263,15[B  ]| she should be unable to$9$ satisfy."
118:263,16[F  ]| "I have left her five thousand pounds.  She can satisfy
118:263,17[F  ]| a good many wants with that$6#2$."
118:263,18[B  ]| "She can indeed.  But she would probably spend
118:263,19[B  ]| it in$4$ two or three years."
118:263,20[F  ]| "You think she would be extravagant then?"
118:263,21[B  ]| "Most certainly," 
118:263,21['  ]| said Ralph, smiling serenely.
118:263,22['  ]| Poor Mr%*Touchett's acuteness was rapidly giving
118:263,23['  ]| place to$4$ pure confusion.  
118:263,23[F  ]| "It would merely be a question
118:263,24[F  ]| of time then, her spending the larger sum?"
118:263,25[B  ]| "No$7$ ~~ though at first I think she would plunge into
118:263,26[B  ]| that$6#2$ pretty freely: she would probably make over a part
118:263,27[B  ]| of it to$4$ each of her sisters.  But after that$6#2$ she would come
118:263,28[B  ]| to$4$ her senses, remember she has still a lifetime before
118:263,29[B  ]| her, and live within her means."
118:263,30[F  ]| "Well, you \have\ worked it out," 
118:263,30['  ]| said the old man
118:263,31['  ]| helplessly.  
118:263,31[F  ]| "You do take an interest in$4$ her, certainly."
118:263,32[F  ]| 
118:264,01[B  ]| "You can not consistently say I go too far.  You
118:264,02[B  ]| wished me to$9$ go further."
118:264,03[F  ]| "Well, I do not know," 
118:264,03['  ]| Mr%*Touchett answered.  
118:264,03[F  ]| "I
118:264,04[F  ]| do not think I enter into your spirit.  It seems to$4$ me
118:264,05[F  ]| immoral."
118:264,06[B  ]| "Immoral, dear daddy?"
118:264,07[F  ]| "Well, I do not know that$3$ it is right to$9$ make everything
118:264,08[F  ]| so$5#1$ easy for$4$ a person."
118:264,09[B  ]| "It surely depends upon$4$ the person.  When the
118:264,10[B  ]| person is good, your making things easy is all to$4$ the 
118:264,11[B  ]| credit of virtue.  To$9$ facilitate the execution of good
118:264,12[B  ]| impulses, what can be a nobler act?"
118:264,13['  ]| This was a little difficult to$9$ follow, and Mr%*Touchett
118:264,14['  ]| considered it for$4$ a while.  At last he said: 
118:264,14[F  ]| "Isabel is
118:264,15[F  ]| a sweet young thing; but do you think she is so$5#1$
118:264,16[F  ]| good as that$6#2$?"
118:264,17[B  ]| "She is as good as her best opportunities," 
118:264,17['  ]| Ralph
118:264,18['  ]| returned.
118:264,19[F  ]| "Well," 
118:264,19['  ]| Mr%*Touchett declared, 
118:264,19[F  ]| "she ought to$9$
118:264,20[F  ]| get a great many opportunities for$4$ sixty thousand
118:264,21[F  ]| pounds."
118:264,22[B  ]| "I have no$2$ doubt she will$1$."
118:264,23[F  ]| "Of course I will$1$ do what you want," 
118:264,23['  ]| said the old
118:264,24['  ]| man.  
118:264,24[F  ]| "I only want to$9$ understand it a little."
118:264,25[B  ]| "Well, dear daddy, do not you understand it now?"
118:264,26['  ]| his son caressingly asked.  
118:264,26[B  ]| "If you do not we will$1$ not
118:264,27[B  ]| take any more trouble about it.  We will$1$ leave it
118:264,28[B  ]| alone."
118:264,29['  ]| Mr%*Touchett lay a long time still. Ralph supposed
118:264,30['  ]| he had given up$5$ the attempt to$9$ follow.  But at last,
118:264,31['  ]| quite lucidly, he began again.  
118:264,31[F  ]| "Tell me this first.
118:264,32[F  ]| Does not it occur to$4$ you that$3$ a young lady with
118:265,01[F  ]| sixty thousand pounds may fall a victim to$4$ the fortune-hunters?"
118:265,02[F  ]| 
118:265,03[B  ]| "She will$1$ hardly fall a victim to$4$ more than one."
118:265,04[F  ]| "Well, one is too many."
118:265,05[B  ]| "Decidedly.  That$6#2$ is a risk, and it has entered into
118:265,06[B  ]| my calculation.  I think it is appreciable, but I think
118:265,07[B  ]| it is small, and I am prepared to$9$ take it."
118:265,08['  ]| Poor Mr%*Touchett's acuteness had passed into
118:265,09['  ]| perplexity, and his perplexity now passed into admiration.
118:265,10[F  ]| "Well, you \have\ gone into it!" 
118:265,10['  ]| he repeated.
118:265,11[F  ]| "But I do not see what good you are to$9$ get 
118:265,12[F  ]| of it."
118:265,13['  ]| Ralph leaned over his father's pillows and gently
118:265,14['  ]| smoothed them; he was aware their talk had been
118:265,15['  ]| unduly prolonged.  
118:265,15[B  ]| "I shall get just the good I said
118:265,16[B  ]| a few moments ago I wished to$9$ put into Isabel's reach
118:265,17[B  ]| ~~ that$6#2$ of having met the requirements of my imagination.
118:265,18[B  ]| But it is scandalous, the way I have taken
118:265,19[B  ]| advantage of you!"
119:266,01['  ]| As Mrs%*Touchett had foretold, Isabel and Madame*Merle
119:266,02['  ]| were thrown much together during the illness
119:266,03['  ]| of their host, so$3$ that$3$ if they had not become intimate
119:266,04['  ]| it would have been almost a breach of good manners.
119:266,05['  ]| Their manners were of the best, but in$4$ addition to$4$
119:266,06['  ]| this they happened to$9$ please each other.  It is perhaps
119:266,07['  ]| too much to$9$ say that$3$ they swore an eternal friendship,
119:266,08['  ]| but tacitly at least they called the future to$9$ witness.
119:266,09['  ]| Isabel did so$5#2$ with a perfectly good conscience,
119:266,10['  ]| though she would have hesitated to$9$ admit she was
119:266,11['  ]| intimate with her new friend in$4$ the high sense she
119:266,12['  ]| privately attached to$4$ this term.  She often wondered
119:266,13['  ]| indeed 
119:266,13@a   | if she ever had been, or ever could be, intimate
119:266,14@a   | with any*one.  
119:266,14['  ]| She had an ideal of friendship as well
119:266,15['  ]| as of several other sentiments, which$6#1$ it failed to$9$ seem
119:266,16['  ]| to$4$ her in$4$ this case ~~ it had not seemed to$4$ her in$4$ other
119:266,17['  ]| cases ~~ that$3$ the actual completely expressed.  But
119:266,18['  ]| she often reminded herself that$3$ 
119:266,18@a   | there were essential
119:266,19@a   | reasons why one's ideal could never become concrete.
119:266,20@a   | It was a thing to$9$ believe in$4$, not to$9$ see ~~ a matter of
119:266,21@a   | faith, not experience.  Experience, however, might
119:266,22@a   | supply us with very creditable imitations of it, and
119:266,23@a   | the part of wisdom was to$9$ make the best of these.
119:266,24['  ]| Certainly, on$4$ the whole, Isabel had never encountered
119:266,25['  ]| a more agreeable and interesting figure than
119:266,26['  ]| Madame*Merle; she had never met a person having
119:266,27['  ]| less of that$6#2$ fault which$6#1$ is the principal obstacle to$4$
119:267,01['  ]| friendship ~~ the air of reproducing the more tiresome,
119:267,02['  ]| the stale, the too-familiar parts of one's own character.
119:267,03['  ]| The gates of the girl's confidence were opened
119:267,04['  ]| wider than they had ever been; she said things to$4$ this
119:267,05['  ]| amiable auditress that$6#1$ she had not yet said to$4$ any*one.
119:267,06['  ]| Sometimes she took alarm at her candour: it
119:267,07['  ]| was as if she had given to$4$ a comparative stranger
119:267,08['  ]| the key to$4$ her cabinet of jewels.  These spiritual gems
119:267,09['  ]| were the only ones of any magnitude that$6#1$ Isabel possessed,
119:267,10['  ]| but there was all the greater reason for$4$ their
119:267,11['  ]| being carefully guarded.  Afterwards, however, she
119:267,12['  ]| always remembered that$3$ one should never regret a
119:267,13['  ]| generous error and that$3$ if Madame*Merle had not
119:267,14['  ]| the merits she attributed to$4$ her, so$5#1$ much the worse
119:267,15['  ]| for$4$ Madame*Merle.  There was no$2$ doubt she had 
119:267,16['  ]| great merits ~~ she was charming, sympathetic, intelligent, 
119:267,17['  ]| cultivated.  More than this (for$3$ it had not
119:267,18['  ]| been Isabel's ill-fortune to$9$ go through life without
119:267,19['  ]| meeting in$4$ her own sex several persons of whom no$2$
119:267,20['  ]| less could fairly be said), she was rare, superior and
119:267,21['  ]| pre*eminent.  There are many amiable people in$4$ the
119:267,22['  ]| world, and Madame*Merle was far from being vulgarly
119:267,23['  ]| good-natured and restlessly witty.  She knew
119:267,24['  ]| how to$9$ think ~~ an accomplishment rare in$4$ women;
119:267,25['  ]| and she had thought to$4$ very good purpose.  Of course,
119:267,26['  ]| too, she knew how to$9$ feel; Isabel could not have spent
119:267,27['  ]| a week with her without being sure of that$6#2$.  This
119:267,28['  ]| was indeed Madame*Merle's great talent, her most
119:267,29['  ]| perfect gift.  Life had told upon$4$ her; she had felt it
119:267,30['  ]| strongly, and it was part of the satisfaction to$9$ be
119:267,31['  ]| taken in$4$ her society that$3$ when the girl talked of what
119:267,32['  ]| she was pleased to$9$ call serious matters this lady
119:268,01['  ]| understood her so$5#1$ easily and quickly.  Emotion, it is
119:268,02['  ]| true, had become with her rather historic; she made
119:268,03['  ]| no$2$ secret of the fact that$3$ the fount of passion, thanks
119:268,04['  ]| to$4$ having been rather violently tapped at one period,
119:268,05['  ]| did not flow quite so$5#1$ freely as of yore.  She proposed
119:268,06['  ]| moreover, as well as expected, to$9$ cease feeling; she
119:268,07['  ]| freely admitted that$3$ of old she had been a little
119:268,08['  ]| mad, and now she pretended to$9$ be perfectly sane.
119:268,09[H  ]| "I judge more than I used to$9$," 
119:268,09['  ]| she said to$4$ Isabel,
119:268,10[H  ]| "but it seems to$4$ me one has earned the right. One
119:268,11[H  ]| can not judge till one is forty; before that$6#2$ we are too
119:268,12[H  ]| eager, too hard, too cruel, and in$4$ addition much too
119:268,13[H  ]| ignorant.  I am sorry for$4$ you; it will$1$ be a long time
119:268,14[H  ]| before you are forty.  But every gain is a loss of some
119:268,15[H  ]| kind; I often think that$3$ after forty one \can not\ really
119:268,16[H  ]| feel.  The freshness, the quickness have certainly gone.
119:268,17[H  ]| You will$1$ keep them longer than most people; it will$1$
119:268,18[H  ]| be a great satisfaction to$4$ me to$9$ see you some years
119:268,19[H  ]| hence.  I want to$9$ see what life makes of you.  One
119:268,20[H  ]| thing is certain ~~ it can not spoil you.  It may pull you
119:268,21[H  ]| about horribly, but I defy it to$9$ break you up$5$."
119:268,22['  ]| Isabel received this assurance as a young soldier,
119:268,23['  ]| still panting from a slight skirmish in$4$ which$6#1$ he has
119:268,24['  ]| come off with honour, might receive a pat on$4$ the shoulder
119:268,25['  ]| from his colonel.  Like$4$ such a recognition of merit
119:268,26['  ]| it seemed to$9$ come with authority.  How could the 
119:268,27['  ]| lightest word do less on$4$ the part of a person who$6#1$ was
119:268,28['  ]| prepared to$9$ say, of almost everything Isabel told her,
119:268,29[H  ]| "Oh, I have been in$4$ that$6#2$, my dear; it passes, like$4$ everything
119:268,30[H  ]| else."  
119:268,30['  ]| On$4$ many of her interlocutors Madame*Merle
119:268,31['  ]| might have produced an irritating effect; it
119:268,32['  ]| was disconcertingly difficult to$9$ surprise her.  But Isabel,
119:269,01['  ]| though by$4$ no$2$ means incapable of desiring to$9$ be
119:269,02['  ]| effective, had not at present this impulse.  She was
119:269,03['  ]| too sincere, too interested in$4$ her judicious companion.
119:269,04['  ]| And then moreover Madame*Merle never said
119:269,05['  ]| such things in$4$ the tone of triumph or of boastfulness;
119:269,06['  ]| they dropped from her like$4$ cold confessions.
119:269,07['  ]| A period of bad weather had settled upon$4$ Gardencourt;
119:269,08['  ]| the days grew shorter and there was an end to$4$
119:269,09['  ]| the pretty tea-parties on$4$ the lawn.  But our young
119:269,10['  ]| woman had long indoor conversations with her fellow
119:269,11['  ]| visitor, and in$4$ spite of the rain the two ladies often
119:269,12['  ]| sallied forth for$4$ a walk, equipped with the defensive
119:269,13['  ]| apparatus which$6#1$ the English climate and the English
119:269,14['  ]| genius have between them brought to$4$ such perfection.
119:269,15['  ]| Madame*Merle liked almost everything, including
119:269,16['  ]| the English rain.  
119:269,16[H  ]| "There is always a little of it and
119:269,17[H  ]| never too much at once," 
119:269,17['  ]| she said; 
119:269,17[H  ]| "and it never
119:269,18[H  ]| wets you and it always smells good."  
119:269,18['  ]| She declared
119:269,19['  ]| that$3$ 
119:269,19@h   | in$4$ England the pleasures of smell were great ~~
119:269,20@h   | that$3$ in$4$ this inimitable island there was a certain mixture
119:269,21@h   | of fog and beer and soot which$6#1$, however odd it
119:269,22@h   | might sound, was the national aroma, and was most
119:269,23@h   | agreeable to$4$ the nostril; 
119:269,23['  ]| and she used to$9$ lift the sleeve
119:269,24['  ]| of her British overcoat and bury her nose in$4$ it, inhaling 
119:269,25['  ]| the clear, fine scent of the wool.  Poor Ralph*Touchett,
119:269,26['  ]| as soon as the autumn had begun to$9$ define
119:269,27['  ]| itself, became almost a prisoner; in$4$ bad weather
119:269,28['  ]| he was unable to$9$ step out of the house, and he used
119:269,29['  ]| sometimes to$9$ stand at one of the windows with his
119:269,30['  ]| hands in$4$ his pockets and, from a countenance half-rueful,
119:269,31['  ]| half-critical, watch Isabel and Madame*Merle
119:269,32['  ]| as they walked down the avenue under a pair of umbrellas.
119:270,01['  ]| The roads about Gardencourt were so$5#1$ firm,
119:270,02['  ]| even in$4$ the worst weather, that$3$ the two ladies always
119:270,03['  ]| came back with a healthy glow in$4$ their cheeks, looking
119:270,04['  ]| at the soles of their neat, stout boots and declaring that$3$
119:270,05@x   | their walk had done them inexpressible good.  
119:270,05['  ]| Before
119:270,06['  ]| luncheon, always, Madame*Merle was engaged; 
119:270,07['  ]| Isabel admired and envied her rigid possession of her
119:270,08['  ]| morning.  Our heroine had always passed for$4$ a person
119:270,09['  ]| of resources and had taken a certain pride in$4$ 
119:270,10['  ]| being one; but she wandered, as by$4$ the wrong side
119:270,11['  ]| of the wall of a private garden, round the enclosed
119:270,12['  ]| talents, accomplishments, aptitudes of Madame*Merle.
119:270,13['  ]| She found herself desiring to$9$ emulate them,
119:270,14['  ]| and in$4$ twenty such ways this lady presented herself
119:270,15['  ]| as a model.  
119:270,15[A  ]| "I should like$1$ awfully to$9$ be \so$6#2$\!"  
119:270,15['  ]| Isabel
119:270,16['  ]| secretly exclaimed, more than once, as one after another 
119:270,17['  ]| of her friend's fine aspects caught the light, and 
119:270,18['  ]| before long she knew that$3$ she had learned a lesson from
119:270,19['  ]| a high authority.  It took no$2$ great time indeed for$4$
119:270,20['  ]| her to$9$ feel herself, as the phrase is, under an influence.
119:270,21[A  ]| "What is the harm," 
119:270,21['  ]| she wondered, 
119:270,21[A  ]| "so$5#1$ long as it is
119:270,22[A  ]| a good one?  The more one is under a good influence
119:270,23[A  ]| the better.  The only thing is to$9$ see our steps as we
119:270,24[A  ]| take them ~~ to$9$ understand them as we go.  That$6#2$,
119:270,25[A  ]| no$2$ doubt, I shall always do.  I need not be afraid of
119:270,26[A  ]| becoming too pliable; is not it my fault that$3$ I am not
119:270,27[A  ]| pliable enough?"  
119:270,27['  ]| It is said that$3$ imitation is the 
119:270,28['  ]| sincerest flattery; and if Isabel was sometimes moved
119:270,29['  ]| to$9$ gape at her friend aspiringly and despairingly it
119:270,30['  ]| was not so$5#1$ much because she desired herself to$9$ shine
119:270,31['  ]| as because she wished to$9$ hold up$5$ the lamp for$4$ Madame*Merle.
119:270,32['  ]| She liked her extremely, but was even 
119:271,01['  ]| more dazzled than attracted.  She sometimes asked
119:271,02['  ]| herself 
119:271,02@a   | what Henrietta*Stackpole would say to$4$ her
119:271,03@a   | thinking so$5#1$ much of this perverted product of their
119:271,04@a   | common soil, 
119:271,04['  ]| and had a conviction that$3$ it would be
119:271,05['  ]| severely judged.  
119:271,05@a   | Henrietta would not at all subscribe 
119:271,06@a   | to$4$ Madame*Merle; 
119:271,06['  ]| for$4$ reasons she could not
119:271,07['  ]| have defined this truth came home to$4$ the girl.  On$4$
119:271,08['  ]| the other hand she was equally sure that$3$, should the
119:271,09['  ]| occasion offer, her new friend would strike off some
119:271,10['  ]| happy view of her old: Madame*Merle was too humorous,
119:271,11['  ]| too observant, not to$9$ do justice to$4$ Henrietta,
119:271,12['  ]| and on$4$ becoming acquainted with her would probably
119:271,13['  ]| give the measure of a tact which$6#1$ Miss*Stackpole
119:271,14['  ]| could not hope to$9$ emulate.  She appeared to$9$ have in$4$
119:271,15['  ]| her experience a touchstone for$4$ everything, and somewhere
119:271,16['  ]| in$4$ the capacious pocket of her genial memory
119:271,17['  ]| she would find the key to$4$ Henrietta's value.  
119:271,17[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is
119:271,18[A  ]| the great thing," 
119:271,18['  ]| Isabel solemnly pondered; 
119:271,18[A  ]| "that$6#2$ is
119:271,19[A  ]| the supreme good fortune: to$9$ be in$4$ a better position
119:271,20[A  ]| for$4$ appreciating people than they are for$4$ appreciating
119:271,21[A  ]| you."  
119:271,21['  ]| And she added that$3$ 
119:271,21@a   | such, when one considered
119:271,22@a   | it, was simply the essence of the aristocratic situation.
119:271,23@a   | In$4$ this light, if in$4$ none other, one should aim at the 
119:271,24@a   | aristocratic situation.
119:271,25['  ]| I may not count over all the links in$4$ the chain
119:271,26['  ]| which$6#1$ led Isabel to$9$ think of Madame*Merle's situation
119:271,27['  ]| as aristocratic ~~ a view of it never expressed in$4$
119:271,28['  ]| any reference made to$4$ it by$4$ that$6#2$ lady herself.  
119:271,28@h   | She
119:271,29@h   | had known great things and great people, but she 
119:271,30@h   | had never played a great part.  She was one of the 
119:271,31@h   | small ones of the earth; she had not been born to$4$
119:271,32@h   | honours; she knew the world too well to$9$ nourish
119:272,01@h   | fatuous illusions on$4$ the article of her own place in$4$ it.
119:272,02@h   | She had encountered many of the fortunate few and
119:272,03@h   | was perfectly aware of those points at which$6#1$ their
119:272,04@h   | fortune differed from hers.  
119:272,04['  ]| But if by$4$ her informed
119:272,05['  ]| measure she was no$2$ figure for$4$ a high scene, she had
119:272,06['  ]| yet to$4$ Isabel's imagination a sort of greatness.  
119:272,06@a   | To$9$
119:272,07@a   | be so$5#1$ cultivated and civilised, so$5#1$ wise and so$5#1$ easy,
119:272,08@a   | and still make so$5#1$ light of it ~~ that$6#2$ was really to$9$ be
119:272,09@a   | a great lady, especially when one so$5#2$ carried and presented
119:272,10@a   | one's self.  
119:272,10['  ]| It was as if somehow she had all
119:272,11['  ]| society under contribution, and all the arts and graces
119:272,12['  ]| it practised ~~ or was the effect rather that$6#2$ of charming
119:272,13['  ]| uses found \for$4$\ her, even from a distance, subtle
119:272,14['  ]| service rendered by$4$ her to$4$ a clamorous world wherever
119:272,15['  ]| she might be?  After breakfast she wrote a succession
119:272,16['  ]| of letters, as those arriving for$4$ her appeared
119:272,17['  ]| innumerable: her correspondence was a source of
119:272,18['  ]| surprise to$4$ Isabel when they sometimes walked together
119:272,19['  ]| to$4$ the village post-office to$9$ deposit Madame*Merle's
119:272,20['  ]| offering to$4$ the mail.  
119:272,20@h   | She knew more people,
119:272,21['  ]| as she told Isabel, 
119:272,21@h   | than she knew what to$9$ do with,
119:272,22@h   | and something was always turning up$5$ to$9$ be written
119:272,23@h   | about.  
119:272,23['  ]| Of painting she was devotedly fond, and
119:272,24['  ]| made no$2$ more of brushing in$5$ a sketch than of pulling
119:272,25['  ]| off her gloves.  At Gardencourt she was perpetually
119:272,26['  ]| taking advantage of an hour's sunshine to$9$ go out with
119:272,27['  ]| a camp-stool and a box of water-colours.  That$3$ she
119:272,28['  ]| was a brave musician we have already perceived, and
119:272,29['  ]| it was evidence of the fact that$3$ when she seated herself
119:272,30['  ]| at the piano, as she always did in$4$ the evening, her
119:272,31['  ]| listeners resigned themselves without a murmur to$4$
119:272,32['  ]| losing the grace of her talk.  Isabel, since she had
119:273,01['  ]| known her, felt ashamed of her own facility, which$6#1$
119:273,02['  ]| she now looked upon$4$ as basely inferior; and indeed,
119:273,03['  ]| though she had been thought rather a prodigy at
119:273,04['  ]| home, the loss to$4$ society when, in$4$ taking her place
119:273,05['  ]| upon$4$ the music-stool, she turned her back to$4$ the 
119:273,06['  ]| room, was usually deemed greater than the gain.
119:273,07['  ]| When Madame*Merle was neither writing, nor painting,
119:273,08['  ]| nor touching the piano, she was usually employed 
119:273,09['  ]| upon$4$ wonderful tasks of rich embroidery,
119:273,10['  ]| cushions, curtains, decorations for$4$ the chimney-piece;
119:273,11['  ]| an art in$4$ which$6#1$ her bold, free invention was
119:273,12['  ]| as noted as the agility of her needle.  She was never
119:273,13['  ]| idle, for$3$ when engaged in$4$ none of the ways I have
119:273,14['  ]| mentioned she was either reading (she appeared to$4$
119:273,15['  ]| Isabel to$9$ read "everything important"), or walking
119:273,16['  ]| out, or playing patience with the cards, or talking
119:273,17['  ]| with her fellow inmates.  And with all this she had
119:273,18['  ]| always the social quality, was never rudely absent
119:273,19['  ]| and yet never too seated.  She laid down her pastimes
119:273,20['  ]| as easily as she took them up$5$; she worked and 
119:273,21['  ]| talked at the same time, and appeared to$9$ impute
119:273,22['  ]| scant worth to$4$ anything she did.  She gave away her
119:273,23['  ]| sketches and tapestries; she rose from the piano or
119:273,24['  ]| remained there, according to$4$ the convenience of her
119:273,25['  ]| auditors, which$6#1$ she always unerringly divined.  She
119:273,26['  ]| was in$4$ short the most comfortable, profitable, amenable
119:273,27['  ]| person to$9$ live with.  If for$4$ Isabel she had a fault
119:273,28['  ]| it was that$3$ she was not natural; by$4$ which$6#1$ the girl
119:273,29['  ]| meant, not that$3$ she was either affected or pretentious,
119:273,30['  ]| since from these vulgar vices no$2$ woman could have
119:273,31['  ]| been more exempt, but that$3$ her nature had been too 
119:273,32['  ]| much overlaid by$4$ custom and her angles too much
119:274,01['  ]| rubbed away.  She had become too flexible, too useful,
119:274,02['  ]| was too ripe and too final.  She was in$4$ a word
119:274,03['  ]| too perfectly the social animal that$6#1$ man and woman
119:274,04['  ]| are supposed to$9$ have been intended to$9$ be; and she
119:274,05['  ]| had rid herself of every remnant of that$6#2$ tonic wildness
119:274,06['  ]| which$6#1$ we may assume to$9$ have belonged even to$4$ the 
119:274,07['  ]| most amiable persons in$4$ the ages before country-house
119:274,08['  ]| life was the fashion.  Isabel found it difficult
119:274,09['  ]| to$9$ think of her in$4$ any detachment or privacy, she
119:274,10['  ]| existed only in$4$ her relations, direct or indirect, with
119:274,11['  ]| her fellow mortals.  One might wonder what commerce
119:274,12['  ]| she could possibly hold with her own spirit.
119:274,13['  ]| One always ended, however, by$4$ feeling that$3$ a charming
119:274,14['  ]| surface does not necessarily prove one superficial;
119:274,15['  ]| this was an illusion in$4$ which$6#1$, in$4$ one's youth, one had
119:274,16['  ]| but just escaped being nourished.  Madame*Merle
119:274,17['  ]| was not superficial ~~ not she.  She was deep, and
119:274,18['  ]| her nature spoke none the less in$4$ her behaviour because
119:274,19['  ]| it spoke a conventional tongue.  
119:274,19[A  ]| "What is language
119:274,20[A  ]| at all but a convention?" 
119:274,20['  ]| said Isabel.  
119:274,20[A  ]| "She
119:274,21[A  ]| has the good taste not to$9$ pretend, like$4$ some people
119:274,22[A  ]| I have met, to$9$ express herself by$4$ original signs."
119:274,23[A  ]| "I am afraid you have suffered much," 
119:274,23['  ]| she once found
119:274,24['  ]| occasion to$9$ say to$4$ her friend in$4$ response to$4$ some
119:274,25['  ]| allusion that$6#1$ had appeared to$9$ reach far.
119:274,26[H  ]| "What makes you think that$6#2$?" 
119:274,26['  ]| Madame*Merle
119:274,27['  ]| asked with the amused smile of a person seated at a 
119:274,28['  ]| game of guesses.  
119:274,28[H  ]| "I hope I have not too much the 
119:274,29[H  ]| droop of the misunderstood."
119:274,30[A  ]| "No$7$; but you sometimes say things that$6#1$ I think
119:274,31[A  ]| people who$6#1$ have always been happy would not have 
119:274,32[A  ]| found out."
119:275,01[H  ]| "I have not always been happy," 
119:275,01['  ]| said Madame*Merle,
119:275,02['  ]| smiling still, but with a mock gravity, as if she
119:275,03['  ]| were telling a child a secret.  
119:275,03[H  ]| "Such a wonderful
119:275,04[H  ]| thing!"
119:275,05['  ]| But Isabel rose to$4$ the irony.  
119:275,05[A  ]| "A great many
119:275,06[A  ]| people give me the impression of never having for$4$
119:275,07[A  ]| a moment felt anything."
119:275,08[H  ]| "It is very true; there are many more iron pots
119:275,09[H  ]| certainly than porcelain.  But you may depend on$4$ it
119:275,10[H  ]| that$3$ every*one bears some mark; even the hardest
119:275,11[H  ]| iron pots have a little bruise, a little hole somewhere.
119:275,12[H  ]| I flatter myself that$3$ I am rather stout, but if I must
119:275,13[H  ]| tell you the truth I have been shockingly chipped and
119:275,14[H  ]| cracked.  I do very well for$4$ service yet, because I have
119:275,15[H  ]| been cleverly mended; and I try to$9$ remain in$4$ the 
119:275,16[H  ]| cupboard ~~ the quiet, dusky cupboard where there is
119:275,17[H  ]| an odour of stale spices ~~ as much as I can.  But
119:275,18[H  ]| when I have to$9$ come out and into a strong light ~~ then,
119:275,19[H  ]| my dear, I am a horror!"
119:275,20['  ]| I know not whether it was on$4$ this occasion or on$4$
119:275,21['  ]| some other that$3$ when the conversation had taken the
119:275,22['  ]| turn I have just indicated she said to$4$ Isabel that$3$ 
119:275,22@h   | she 
119:275,23@h   | would some day a tale unfold.  
119:275,23['  ]| Isabel assured her
119:275,24@a   | she should delight to$9$ listen to$4$ one, 
119:275,24['  ]| and reminded
119:275,25['  ]| her more than once of this engagement.  Madame*Merle,
119:275,26['  ]| however, begged repeatedly for$4$ a respite, and
119:275,27['  ]| at last frankly told her young companion that$3$ 
119:275,27@h   | they
119:275,28@h   | must wait till they knew each other better.  This
119:275,29@h   | would be sure to$9$ happen; a long friendship so$5#1$ visibly
119:275,30@h   | lay before them.  
119:275,30['  ]| Isabel assented, but at the same
119:275,31['  ]| time enquired 
119:275,31@a   | if she might not be trusted ~~ if she
119:275,32@a   | appeared capable of a betrayal of confidence.
119:276,01[H  ]| "It is not that$3$ I am afraid of your repeating what
119:276,02[H  ]| I say," 
119:276,02['  ]| her fellow visitor answered; 
119:276,02[H  ]| "I am afraid, on$4$
119:276,03[H  ]| the contrary, of your taking it too much to$4$ yourself.
119:276,04[H  ]| You would judge me too harshly; you are of the cruel
119:276,05[H  ]| age."  
119:276,05['  ]| She preferred for$4$ the present to$9$ talk to$4$ Isabel
119:276,06['  ]| of Isabel, and exhibited the greatest interest in$4$ our
119:276,07['  ]| heroine's history, sentiments, opinions, prospects.
119:276,08['  ]| She made her chatter and listened to$4$ her chatter with
119:276,09['  ]| infinite good nature.  This flattered and quickened
119:276,10['  ]| the girl, who$6#1$ was struck with all the distinguished
119:276,11['  ]| people her friend had known and with her 
119:276,11@g   | having
119:276,12@g   | lived, 
119:276,12['  ]| as Mrs%*Touchett said, 
119:276,12@g   | in$4$ the best company in$4$
119:276,13@g   | Europe.  
119:276,13['  ]| Isabel thought the better of herself for$4$ enjoying 
119:276,14['  ]| the favour of a person who$6#1$ had so$5#1$ large a field
119:276,15['  ]| of comparison; and it was perhaps partly to$9$ gratify
119:276,16['  ]| the sense of profiting by$4$ comparison that$3$ she often
119:276,17['  ]| appealed to$4$ these stores of reminiscence.  Madame*Merle
119:276,18['  ]| had been a dweller in$4$ many lands and had
119:276,19['  ]| social ties in$4$ a dozen different countries.  
119:276,19[H  ]| "I do not
119:276,20[H  ]| pretend to$9$ be educated," 
119:276,20['  ]| she would say, 
119:276,20[H  ]| "but I think
119:276,21[H  ]| I know my Europe;" 
119:276,21['  ]| and she spoke one day of going
119:276,22['  ]| to$4$ Sweden to$9$ stay with an old friend, and another of
119:276,23['  ]| proceeding to$4$ Malta to$9$ follow up$5$ a new acquaintance.
119:276,24['  ]| With England, where she had often dwelt, she was
119:276,25['  ]| thoroughly familiar, and for$4$ Isabel's benefit threw
119:276,26['  ]| a great deal of light upon$4$ the customs of the country
119:276,27['  ]| and the character of the people, who$6#1$ 
119:276,27[H  ]| "after all," 
119:276,27['  ]| as
119:276,28['  ]| she was fond of saying, 
119:276,28@h   | were the most convenient in$4$
119:276,29@h   | the world to$9$ live with.
119:276,30[G  ]| "You must not think it strange her remaining here
119:276,31[G  ]| at such a time as this, when Mr%*Touchett's passing
119:276,32[G  ]| away," 
119:276,32['  ]| that$6#2$ gentleman's wife remarked to$4$ her niece.
119:277,01[G  ]| "She is incapable of a mistake; she is the most tactful
119:277,02[G  ]| woman I know.  It is a favour to$4$ me that$3$ she stays;
119:277,03[G  ]| she is putting off a lot of visits at great houses," 
119:277,03['  ]| said
119:277,04['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett, who$6#1$ never forgot that$3$ when she herself
119:277,05['  ]| was in$4$ England her social value sank two or three
119:277,06['  ]| degrees in$4$ the scale.  
119:277,06[G  ]| "She has her pick of places;
119:277,07[G  ]| she is not in$4$ want of a shelter.  But I have asked her
119:277,08[G  ]| to$9$ put in$4$ this time because I wish you to know her.
119:277,09[G  ]| I think it will$1$ be a good thing for$4$ you.  Serena*Merle
119:277,10[G  ]| has not a fault."
119:277,11[A  ]| "If I did not already like$1$ her very much that$6#2$ description
119:277,12[A  ]| might alarm me," 
119:277,12['  ]| Isabel returned.
119:277,13[G  ]| "She is never the least little bit ""off.""  I have brought
119:277,14[G  ]| you out here and I wish to$9$ do the best for$4$ you.  Your
119:277,15[G  ]| sister Lily told me she hoped I would give you plenty 
119:277,16[G  ]| of opportunities.  I give you one in$4$ putting you in$4$ 
119:277,17[G  ]| relation with Madame*Merle.  She is one of the most
119:277,18[G  ]| brilliant women in$4$ Europe."
119:277,19[A  ]| "I like$1$ her better than I like$1$ your description of
119:277,20[A  ]| her," 
119:277,20['  ]| Isabel persisted in$4$ saying.
119:277,21[G  ]| "Do you flatter yourself that$3$ you will$1$ ever feel her
119:277,22[G  ]| open to$4$ criticism?  I hope you will$1$ let me know when
119:277,23[G  ]| you do."
119:277,24[A  ]| "That$6#2$ will$1$ be cruel ~~ to$4$ you," 
119:277,24['  ]| said Isabel.
119:277,25[G  ]| "You need not mind me.  You will$1$ not discover a 
119:277,26[G  ]| fault in$4$ her."
119:277,27[A  ]| "Perhaps not.  But I dare say I shall not miss it."
119:277,28[G  ]| "She knows absolutely everything on$4$ earth there
119:277,29[G  ]| is to$9$ know," 
119:277,29['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett.
119:277,30['  ]| Isabel after this observed to$4$ their companion that$3$
119:277,31@a   | she hoped she knew Mrs%*Touchett considered she
119:277,32@a   | had not a speck on$4$ her perfection.  
119:277,32['  ]| On$4$ which$6#1$ 
119:277,32[H  ]| "I am
119:278,01[H  ]| obliged to$4$ you," 
119:278,01['  ]| Madame*Merle replied, 
119:278,01[H  ]| "but I am
119:278,02[H  ]| afraid your aunt imagines, or at least alludes to$4$, no$2$
119:278,03[H  ]| aberrations that$6#1$ the clock-face does not register."
119:278,04[A  ]| "So$3$ that$3$ you mean you have a wild side that$6#1$ is unknown 
119:278,05[A  ]| to$4$ her?" 
119:278,06[H  ]| "Ah no$7$, I fear my darkest sides are my tamest.  I 
119:278,07[H  ]| mean that$3$ having no$2$ faults, for$4$ your aunt, means that$3$ 
119:278,08[H  ]| one is never late for$4$ dinner ~~ that$6#2$ is for$4$ \her\ dinner.
119:278,09[H  ]| I was not late, by$4$ the way, the other day, when you
119:278,10[H  ]| came back from London; the clock was just at eight
119:278,11[H  ]| when I came into the drawing-room: it was the rest 
119:278,12[H  ]| of you that$6#1$ were before the time.  It means that$3$ one
119:278,13[H  ]| answers a letter the day one gets it and that$3$ when
119:278,14[H  ]| one comes to$9$ stay with her one does not bring too
119:278,15[H  ]| much luggage and is careful not to$9$ be taken ill.  For$4$
119:278,16[H  ]| Mrs%*Touchett those things constitute virtue; it is
119:278,17[H  ]| a blessing to$9$ be able to$9$ reduce it to$4$ its elements."
119:278,18['  ]| Madame*Merle's own conversation, it will$1$ be perceived,
119:278,19['  ]| was enriched with bold, free touches of criticism,
119:278,20['  ]| which$6#1$, even when they had a restrictive effect,
119:278,21['  ]| never struck Isabel as ill-natured.  It could not occur
119:278,22['  ]| to$4$ the girl for$4$ instance that$3$ Mrs%*Touchett's accomplished
119:278,23['  ]| guest was abusing her; and this for$4$ very good
119:278,24['  ]| reasons.  In$4$ the first place Isabel rose eagerly to$4$ the 
119:278,25['  ]| sense of her shades; in$4$ the second Madame*Merle
119:278,26['  ]| implied that$3$ there was a great deal more to$9$ say; and
119:278,27['  ]| it was clear in$4$ the third that$3$ 
119:278,27@a   | for$4$ a person to$9$ speak
119:278,28@a   | to$4$ one without ceremony of one's near relation was
119:278,29@a   | an agreeable sign of that$6#2$ person's intimacy with one's
119:278,30@a   | self.  
119:278,30['  ]| These signs of deep communion multiplied as
119:278,31['  ]| the days elapsed, and there was none of which$6#1$ Isabel
119:278,32['  ]| was more sensible than of her companion's preference
119:279,01['  ]| for$4$ making Miss*Archer herself a topic.  Though she
119:279,02['  ]| referred frequently to$4$ the incidents of her own career
119:279,03['  ]| she never lingered upon$4$ them; she was as little of a 
119:279,04['  ]| gross egotist as she was of a flat gossip.
119:279,05[H  ]| "I am old and stale and faded," 
119:279,05['  ]| she said more than
119:279,06['  ]| once; 
119:279,06[H  ]| "I am of no$2$ more interest than last week's
119:279,07[H  ]| newspaper.  You are young and fresh and of to-day;
119:279,08[H  ]| you have the great thing ~~ you have actuality.  I once
119:279,09[H  ]| had it ~~ we all have it for$4$ an hour.  You, however,
119:279,10[H  ]| will$1$ have it for$4$ longer.  Let us talk about you then;
119:279,11[H  ]| you can say nothing I shall not care to$9$ hear.  It is a
119:279,12[H  ]| sign that$3$ I am growing old ~~ that$3$ I like$1$ to$9$ talk with
119:279,13[H  ]| younger people.  I think it is a very pretty compensation.
119:279,14[H  ]| If we can not have youth within us we can have 
119:279,15[H  ]| it outside, and I really think we see it and feel it better
119:279,16[H  ]| that$6#2$ way.  Of course we must be in$4$ sympathy
119:279,17[H  ]| with it ~~ that$6#2$ I shall always be.  I do not know that$3$ I
119:279,18[H  ]| shall ever be ill-natured with old people ~~ I hope
119:279,19[H  ]| not; there are certainly some old people I adore.  But
119:279,20[H  ]| I shall never be anything but abject with the young;
119:279,21[H  ]| they touch me and appeal to$4$ me too much.  I give
119:279,22[H  ]| you \9carte*blanche\ then; you can even be impertinent
119:279,23[H  ]| if you like$1$; I shall let it pass and horribly spoil you.
119:279,24[H  ]| I speak as if I were a hundred years old, you say?
119:279,25[H  ]| Well, I am, if you please; I was born before the
119:279,26[H  ]| French*Revolution.  Ah, my dear, \9je*viens*de*loin\; I 
119:279,27[H  ]| belong to$4$ the old, old world.  But it is not of that$6#2$ I 
119:279,28[H  ]| want to$9$ talk; I want to$9$ talk about the new.  You must
119:279,29[H  ]| tell me more about America; you never tell me
119:279,30[H  ]| enough.  Here I have been since I was brought here as
119:279,31[H  ]| a helpless child, and it is ridiculous, or rather it is
119:279,32[H  ]| scandalous, how little I know about that$6#2$ splendid,
119:280,01[H  ]| dreadful, funny country ~~ surely the greatest and
119:280,02[H  ]| drollest of them all.  There are a great many of us
119:280,03[H  ]| like$4$ that$6#2$ in$4$ these parts, and I must say I think we are
119:280,04[H  ]| a wretched set of people.  You should live in$4$ your
119:280,05[H  ]| own land; whatever it may be you have your natural
119:280,06[H  ]| place there.  If we are not good Americans we are certainly 
119:280,07[H  ]| poor Europeans; we have no$2$ natural place here.
119:280,08[H  ]| We are mere parasites, crawling over the surface; we
119:280,09[H  ]| have not our feet in$4$ the soil.  At least one can know 
119:280,10[H  ]| it and not have illusions.  A woman perhaps can
119:280,11[H  ]| get on$5$; a woman, it seems to$4$ me, has no$2$ natural
119:280,12[H  ]| place anywhere; wherever she finds herself she has
119:280,13[H  ]| to$9$ remain on$4$ the surface and, more or less, to$9$ crawl.
119:280,14[H  ]| You protest, my dear?  you are horrified?  you declare
119:280,15[H  ]| you will$1$ never crawl?  It is very true that$3$ I do not see
119:280,16[H  ]| you crawling; you stand more upright than a good
119:280,17[H  ]| many poor creatures.  Very good; on$4$ the whole, I
119:280,18[H  ]| do not think you will$1$ crawl.  But the men, the Americans;
119:280,19[H  ]| \9je 9vous 9demande 9un 9peu\, what do they make of it over
119:280,20[H  ]| here?  I do not envy them trying to$9$ arrange themselves.
119:280,21[H  ]| Look at poor Ralph*Touchett: what sort of a figure
119:280,22[H  ]| do you call that$6#2$?  Fortunately he has a consumption;
119:280,23[H  ]| I say fortunately, because it gives him something to$9$
119:280,24[H  ]| do.  His consumption is his \9carrie`re\; it is a kind of
119:280,25[H  ]| position.  You can say: ""Oh, Mr%*Touchett, he takes
119:280,26[H  ]| care of his lungs, he knows a great deal about climates.""
119:280,27[H  ]| But without that$6#2$ who$6#2$ would he be, what 
119:280,28[H  ]| would he represent?  ""Mr%*Ralph*Touchett: an American
119:280,29[H  ]| who$6#1$ lives in$4$ Europe.""  That$6#2$ signifies absolutely
119:280,30[H  ]| nothing ~~ it is impossible anything should signify
119:280,31[H  ]| less.  ""He is very cultivated,"" they say: ""he has a very
119:280,32[H  ]| pretty collection of old snuff-boxes."" The collection
119:281,01[H  ]| is all that$6#1$ is wanted to$9$ make it pitiful.  I am tired of the 
119:281,02[H  ]| sound of the word; I think it is grotesque.  With the 
119:281,03[H  ]| poor old father it is different; he has his identity,
119:281,04[H  ]| and it is rather a massive one.  He represents a great 
119:281,05[H  ]| financial house, and that$6#2$, in$4$ our day, is as good as
119:281,06[H  ]| anything else.  For$4$ an American, at any rate, that$6#2$ will$1$
119:281,07[H  ]| do very well.  But I persist in$4$ thinking your cousin
119:281,08[H  ]| very lucky to$9$ have a chronic malady so$5#1$ long as he
119:281,09[H  ]| does not die of it.  It is much better than the snuff-boxes.
119:281,10[H  ]| If he were not ill, you say, he would do something?
119:281,11[H  ]| ~~ he would take his father's place in$4$ the house.  My poor
119:281,12[H  ]| child, I doubt it; I do not think he is at all fond of the 
119:281,13[H  ]| house.  However, you know him better than I, though
119:281,14[H  ]| I used to$9$ know him rather well, and he may have
119:281,15[H  ]| the benefit of the doubt.  The worst case, I think, is
119:281,16[H  ]| a friend of mine, a countryman of ours, who$6#1$ lives in$4$
119:281,17[H  ]| Italy (where he also was brought before he knew
119:281,18[H  ]| better), and who$6#1$ is one of the most delightful men
119:281,19[H  ]| I know.  Some day you must know him.  I will$1$ bring you
119:281,20[H  ]| together and then you will$1$ see what I mean.  He is Gilbert*Osmond
119:281,21[H  ]| ~~ he lives in$4$ Italy; that$6#2$ is all one can
119:281,22[H  ]| say about him or make of him.  He is exceedingly
119:281,23[H  ]| clever, a man made to$9$ be distinguished; but, as I tell
119:281,24[H  ]| you, you exhaust the description when you say he is
119:281,25[H  ]| Mr%*Osmond who$6#1$ lives \9tout*be^tement\ in$4$ Italy.  No$2$
119:281,26[H  ]| career, no$2$ name, no$2$ position, no$2$ fortune, no$2$ past, no$2$
119:281,27[H  ]| future, no$2$ anything.  Oh yes, he paints, if you please
119:281,28[H  ]| ~~ paints in$4$ water-colours; like$4$ me, only better than
119:281,29[H  ]| I.  His painting is pretty bad; on$4$ the whole I am 
119:281,30[H  ]| rather glad of that$6#2$.  Fortunately he is very indolent,
119:281,31[H  ]| so$5#1$ indolent that$3$ it amounts to$4$ a sort of position.  He
119:281,32[H  ]| can say, ""Oh, I do nothing; I am too deadly lazy. You
119:282,01[H  ]| can do nothing to-day unless you get up$5$ at five o'clock
119:282,02[H  ]| in$4$ the morning.""  In$4$ that$6#2$ way he becomes a sort of
119:282,03[H  ]| exception; you feel he might do something if he would
119:282,04[H  ]| only rise early.   He never speaks of his painting ~~
119:282,05[H  ]| to$4$ people at large; he is too clever for$4$ that$6#2$.  But he
119:282,06[H  ]| has a little girl ~~ a dear little girl; he does speak of
119:282,07[H  ]| \her\.  He is devoted to$4$ her, and if it were a career to$9$
119:282,08[H  ]| be an excellent father he would be very distinguished.
119:282,09[H  ]| But I am afraid that$6#2$ is no$2$ better than the snuff-boxes;
119:282,10[H  ]| perhaps not even so$5#1$ good.  Tell me what they do
119:282,11[H  ]| in$4$ America," 
119:282,11['  ]| pursued Madame*Merle, who$6#1$, it must
119:282,12['  ]| be observed parenthetically, did not deliver hereself
119:282,13['  ]| all at once of these reflexions, which$6#1$ are presented
119:282,14['  ]| in$4$ a cluster for$4$ the convenience of the reader.  She
119:282,15['  ]| talked of Florence, where Mr%*Osmond lived and
119:282,16['  ]| where Mrs%*Touchett occupied a mediaeval palace;
119:282,17['  ]| she talked of Rome, where she herself had a little
119:282,18['  ]| \9pied-a`-terre\ with some rather good old damask.  She
119:282,19['  ]| talked of places, of people and even, as the phrase
119:282,20['  ]| is, of "subjects"; and from time to$4$ time she talked
119:282,21['  ]| of their kind old host and of the prospect of his recovery.
119:282,22['  ]| From the first she had thought this prospect
119:282,23['  ]| small, and Isabel had been struck with the positive,
119:282,24['  ]| discriminating, competent way in$4$ which$6#1$ she took the
119:282,25['  ]| measure of his remainder of life.  One evening she
119:282,26['  ]| announced definitely that$3$ he would not live.
119:282,27[H  ]| "Sir*Matthew*Hope told me so$5#2$ as plainly as was
119:282,28[H  ]| proper," 
119:282,28['  ]| she said; 
119:282,28[H  ]| "standing there, near the fire,
119:282,29[H  ]| before dinner.  He makes himself very agreeable, the
119:282,30[H  ]| great doctor.  I do not mean his saying that$6#2$ has anything
119:282,31[H  ]| to$9$ do with it.  But he says such things with great
119:282,32[H  ]| tact.  I had told him I felt ill at my ease, staying here at
119:283,01[H  ]| such a time; it seemed to$4$ me so$5#1$ indiscreet ~~ it was not
119:283,02[H  ]| as if I could nurse.  ""You must remain, you must
119:283,03[H  ]| remain,"" he answered; ""your office will$1$ come later.""
119:283,04[H  ]| Was not that$6#2$ a very delicate way of saying both that$3$
119:283,05[H  ]| poor Mr%*Touchett would go and that$3$ I might be of
119:283,06[H  ]| some use as a consoler?  In$4$ fact, however, I shall not
119:283,07[H  ]| be of the slightest use.  Your aunt will$1$ console herself;
119:283,08[H  ]| she, and she alone, knows just how much consolation
119:283,09[H  ]| she will$1$ require.  It would be a very delicate matter for$4$
119:283,10[H  ]| another person to$9$ undertake to$9$ administer the dose.
119:283,11[H  ]| With your cousin it will$1$ be different; he will$1$ miss his
119:283,12[H  ]| father immensely.   But I should never presume to$9$
119:283,13[H  ]| condole with Mr%*Ralph; we are not on$4$ those terms."
119:283,14['  ]| Madame*Merle had alluded more than once to$4$ some
119:283,15['  ]| undefined incongruity in$4$ her relations with Ralph*Touchett;
119:283,16['  ]| so$3$ Isabel took this occasion of asking her
119:283,17@a   | if they were not good friends.
119:283,18[H  ]| "Perfectly, but he does not like$1$ me."
119:283,19[A  ]| "What have you done to$4$ him?"
119:283,20[H  ]| "Nothing whatever.  But one has no$2$ need of a reason
119:283,21[H  ]| for$4$ that$6#2$."
119:283,22[A  ]| "For$4$ not liking you?  I think one has need of a 
119:283,23[A  ]| very good reason."
119:283,24[H  ]| "You are very kind.  Be sure you have one ready
119:283,25[H  ]| for$4$ the day you begin."
119:283,26[A  ]| "Begin to$9$ dislike you?  I shall never begin."
119:283,27[H  ]| "I hope not; because if you do you will$1$ never end.
119:283,28[H  ]| That$6#2$ is the way with your cousin; he does not get over
119:283,29[H  ]| it.  It is an antipathy of nature ~~ if I can call it that$6#2$
119:283,30[H  ]| when it is all on$4$ his side.  I have nothing whatever against
119:283,31[H  ]| him and do not bear him the least little grudge for$4$ not
119:283,32[H  ]| doing me justice.  Justice is all I want.  However,
119:284,01[H  ]| one feels that$3$ he is a gentleman and would never say
119:284,02[H  ]| anything underhand about one.  \9Cartes*sur*table\," 
119:284,03['  ]| Madame*Merle subjoined in$4$ a moment, 
119:284,03[H  ]| "I am not
119:284,04[H  ]| afraid of him."
119:284,05[A  ]| "I hope not indeed," 
119:284,05['  ]| said Isabel, who$6#1$ added something
119:284,06['  ]| about 
119:284,06@a   | his being the kindest creature living.  
119:284,06['  ]| She
119:284,07['  ]| remembered, however, that$3$ on$4$ her first asking him
119:284,08['  ]| about Madame*Merle he had answered her in$4$ a manner
119:284,09['  ]| which$6#1$ this lady might have thought injurious
119:284,10['  ]| without being explicit.  
119:284,10@a   | There was something between
119:284,11@a   | them, 
119:284,11['  ]| Isabel said to$4$ herself, but she said nothing 
119:284,12['  ]| more than this.  
119:284,12@a   | If it were something of importance
119:284,13@a   | it should inspire respect; if it were not it was not
119:284,14@a   | worth her curiosity.  
119:284,14['  ]| With all her love of knowledge
119:284,15['  ]| she had a natural shrinking from raising curtains and
119:284,16['  ]| looking into unlighted corners.  The love of knowledge 
119:284,17['  ]| coexisted in$4$ her mind with the finest capacity
119:284,18['  ]| for$4$ ignorance.
119:284,19['  ]| But Madame*Merle sometimes said things that$6#1$
119:284,20['  ]| startled her, made her raise her clear eyebrows at the 
119:284,21['  ]| time and think of the words afterwards.  
119:284,21[H  ]| "I would give
119:284,22[H  ]| a great deal to$9$ be your age again," 
119:284,22['  ]| she broke out once
119:284,23['  ]| with a bitterness which$6#1$, though diluted in$4$ her customary 
119:284,24['  ]| amplitude of ease, was imperfectly disguised
119:284,25['  ]| by$4$ it.  
119:284,25[H  ]| "If I could only begin again ~~ if I could have
119:284,26[H  ]| my life before me!"
119:284,27[A  ]| "Your life is before you yet," 
119:284,27['  ]| Isabel answered
119:284,28['  ]| gently, for$3$ she was vaguely awe-struck.
119:284,29[H  ]| "No$7$; the best part is gone, and gone for$4$ nothing."
119:284,30[H  ]| 
119:284,31[A  ]| "Surely not for$4$ nothing," 
119:284,31['  ]| said Isabel.
119:284,32[H  ]| "Why not ~~ what have I got?  Neither husband,
119:285,01[H  ]| nor child, nor fortune, nor position, nor the traces of
119:285,02[H  ]| a beauty that$6#1$ I never had."
119:285,03[A  ]| "You have many friends, dear lady."
119:285,04[H  ]| "I am not so$5#1$ sure!" 
119:285,04['  ]| cried Madame*Merle.
119:285,05[A  ]| "Ah, you are wrong.  You have memories, graces,
119:285,06[A  ]| talents ~~ "
119:285,07['  ]| But Madame*Merle interrupted her.  
119:285,07[H  ]| "What have
119:285,08[H  ]| my talents brought me?  Nothing but the need of
119:285,09[H  ]| using them still, to$9$ get through the hours, the years,
119:285,10[H  ]| to$9$ cheat myself with some pretence of movement, of 
119:285,11[H  ]| unconsciousness.  As for$4$ my graces and memories the 
119:285,12[H  ]| less said about them the better.  You will$1$ be my friend
119:285,13[H  ]| till you find a better use for$4$ your friendship."
119:285,14[A  ]| "It will$1$ be for$4$ you to$9$ see that$3$ I do not then," 
119:285,14['  ]| said
119:285,15['  ]| Isabel.
119:285,16[H  ]| "Yes; I would make an effort to$9$ keep you." 
119:285,16['  ]| And
119:285,17['  ]| her companion looked at her gravely.  
119:285,17[H  ]| "When I say
119:285,18[H  ]| I should like$1$ to$9$ be your age I mean with your qualities
119:285,19[H  ]| ~~ frank, generous, sincere like$4$ you.  In$4$ that$6#2$ case
119:285,20[H  ]| I should have made something better of my life."
119:285,21[A  ]| "What should you have liked to$9$ do that$6#1$ you have
119:285,22[A  ]| not done?"
119:285,23['  ]| Madame*Merle took a sheet of music ~~ she was
119:285,24['  ]| seated at the piano and had abruptly wheeled about 
119:285,25['  ]| on$4$ the stool when she first spoke ~~ and mechanically
119:285,26['  ]| turned the leaves.  
119:285,26[H  ]| "I am very ambitious!" 
119:285,26['  ]| she at last
119:285,27['  ]| replied.
119:285,28[A  ]| "And your ambitions have not been satisfied?
119:285,29[A  ]| They must have been great."
119:285,30[H  ]| "They \were\ great.  I should make myself ridiculous
119:285,31[H  ]| by$4$ talking of them."
119:285,32['  ]| Isabel wondered 
119:285,32@a   | what they could have been ~~
119:286,01@a   | whether Madame*Merle had aspired to$9$ wear a crown.
119:286,02[A  ]| "I do not know what your idea of success may be, but
119:286,03[A  ]| you seem to$4$ me to$9$ have been successful.  To$4$ me indeed
119:286,04[A  ]| you are a vivid image of success."
119:286,05['  ]| Madame*Merle tossed away the music with a smile.
119:286,06[H  ]| "What is \your\ idea of success?"
119:286,07[A  ]| "You evidently think it must be a very tame one.
119:286,08[A  ]| It is to$9$ see some dream of one's youth come true."
119:286,09[H  ]| "Ah," 
119:286,09['  ]| Madame*Merle exclaimed, 
119:286,09[H  ]| "that$6#2$ I have never
119:286,10[H  ]| seen!  But my dreams were so$5#1$ great ~~ so$5#1$ preposterous.
119:286,11[H  ]| Heaven forgive me, I am dreaming now!"  
119:286,11['  ]| And she
119:286,12['  ]| turned back to$4$ the piano and began grandly to$9$ play.
119:286,13['  ]| On$4$ the morrow she said to$4$ Isabel that$3$ 
119:286,13@h   | her definition
119:286,14@h   | of success had been very pretty, yet frightfully sad.
119:286,15@h   | Measured in$4$ that$6#2$ way, who$6#2$ had ever succeeded?
119:286,16@h   | The dreams of one's youth, why they were enchanting,
119:286,17@h   | they were divine!  Who$6#2$ had ever seen such things come 
119:286,18@h   | to$9$ pass?
119:286,19[A  ]| "I myself ~~ a few of them," 
119:286,19['  ]| Isabel ventured to$9$
119:286,20['  ]| answer.
119:286,21[H  ]| "Already?  They must have been dreams of yesterday."
119:286,22[H  ]| 
119:286,23[A  ]| "I began to$9$ dream very young," 
119:286,23['  ]| Isabel smiled.
119:286,24[H  ]| "Ah, if you mean the aspirations of your childhood ~~
119:286,25[H  ]| that$6#2$ of having a pink sash and a doll that$6#1$
119:286,26[H  ]| could close her eyes."
119:286,27[A  ]| "No$7$, I do not mean that$6#2$."
119:286,28[H  ]| "Or a young man with a fine moustache going down
119:286,29[H  ]| on$4$ his knees to$4$ you."
119:286,30[A  ]| "No$7$, nor that$6#2$ either," 
119:286,30['  ]| Isabel declared with still
119:286,31['  ]| more emphasis.
119:286,32['  ]| Madame*Merle appeared to$9$ note this eagerness.
119:287,01[H  ]| "I suspect that$6#2$ is what you do mean.  We have all had
119:287,02[H  ]| the young man with the moustache.  He is the inevitable 
119:287,03[H  ]| young man; he does not count."
119:287,04['  ]| Isabel was silent a little but then spoke with
119:287,05['  ]| extreme and characteristic inconsequence.  
119:287,05[A  ]| "Why
119:287,06[A  ]| should not he count?  There are young men and young
119:287,07[A  ]| men."
119:287,08[H  ]| "And yours was a paragon ~~ is that$6#2$ what you
119:287,09[H  ]| mean?" 
119:287,09['  ]| asked her friend with a laugh.  
119:287,09[H  ]| "If you have
119:287,10[H  ]| had the identical young man you dreamed of, then
119:287,11[H  ]| that$6#2$ was success, and I congratulate you with all my
119:287,12[H  ]| heart.  Only in$4$ that$6#2$ case why did not you fly with him
119:287,13[H  ]| to$4$ his castle in$4$ the Apennines?"
119:287,14[A  ]| "He has no$2$ castle in$4$ the Apennines."
119:287,15[H  ]| "What has he?  An ugly brick house in$4$ Fortieth*Street
119:287,16[H  ]| Do not tell me that$6#2$; I refuse to$9$ recognise that$6#2$ 
119:287,17[H  ]| as an ideal."
119:287,18[A  ]| "I do not care anything about his house," 
119:287,18['  ]| said
119:287,19['  ]| Isabel.
119:287,20[H  ]| "That$6#2$ is very crude of you.  When you have lived as
119:287,21[H  ]| long as I you will$1$ see that$3$ every human being has his
119:287,22[H  ]| shell and that$3$ you must take the shell into account.
119:287,23[H  ]| By$4$ the shell I mean the whole envelope of circumstances.  
119:287,24[H  ]| There is no$2$ such thing as an isolated man
119:287,25[H  ]| or woman; we are each of us made up$5$ of some cluster
119:287,26[H  ]| of appurtenances.  What shall we call our ""self""?
119:287,27[H  ]| Where does it begin?  where does it end?  It overflows
119:287,28[H  ]| into everything that$6#1$ belongs to$4$ us ~~ and then
119:287,29[H  ]| it flows back again.  I know a large part of myself
119:287,30[H  ]| is in$4$ the clothes I choose to$9$ wear.  I have a great respect
119:287,31[H  ]| for$4$ \things\!  One's self ~~ for$4$ other people ~~ is one's
119:287,32[H  ]| expression of one's self; and one's house, one's furniture,
119:288,01[H  ]| one's garments, the books one reads, the company
119:288,02[H  ]| one keeps ~~ these things are all expressive."
119:288,03['  ]| This was very metaphysical; not more so$5#2$, however,
119:288,04['  ]| than several observations Madame*Merle had
119:288,05['  ]| already made.  Isabel was fond of metaphysics, but
119:288,06['  ]| was unable to$9$ accompany her friend into this bold
119:288,07['  ]| analysis of the human personality.  
119:288,07[A  ]| "I do not agree
119:288,08[A  ]| with you.  I think just the other way.  I do not know
119:288,09[A  ]| whether I succeed in$4$ expressing myself, but I know
119:288,10[A  ]| that$3$ nothing else expresses me.  Nothing that$6#1$ belongs
119:288,11[A  ]| to$4$ me is any measure of me; everything is on$4$ the 
119:288,12[A  ]| contrary a limit, a barrier, and a perfectly arbitrary
119:288,13[A  ]| one.  Certainly the clothes which$6#1$, as you say, I choose
119:288,14[A  ]| to$9$ wear, do not express me; and heaven forbid they 
119:288,15[A  ]| should!"
119:288,16[H  ]| "You dress very well," 
119:288,16['  ]| Madame*Merle lightly interposed.
119:288,17['  ]| 
119:288,18[A  ]| "Possibly; but I do not care to$9$ be judged by$4$ that$6#2$.
119:288,19[A  ]| My clothes may express the dressmaker, but they
119:288,20[A  ]| do not express me.  To$9$ begin with it is not my own
119:288,21[A  ]| choice that$3$ I wear them; they are imposed upon$4$ me
119:288,22[A  ]| by$4$ society."
119:288,23[H  ]| "Should you prefer to$9$ go without them?" 
119:288,23['  ]| Madame*Merle
119:288,24['  ]| enquired in$4$ a tone which$6#1$ virtually terminated 
119:288,25['  ]| the discussion.
119:288,26['  ]| I am bound to$9$ confess, though it may cast some
119:288,27['  ]| discredit on$4$ the sketch I have given of the youthful
119:288,28['  ]| loyalty practised by$4$ our heroine toward this accomplished
119:288,29['  ]| woman, that$3$ Isabel had said nothing whatever
119:288,30['  ]| to$4$ her about Lord*Warburton and had been equally
119:288,31['  ]| reticent on$4$ the subject of Caspar*Goodwood.  She
119:288,32['  ]| had not, however, concealed the fact that$3$ she had
119:289,01['  ]| had opportunities of marrying and had even let her
119:289,02['  ]| friend know of how advantageous a kind they had
119:289,03['  ]| been.  Lord*Warburton had left Lockleigh and was
119:289,04['  ]| gone to$4$ Scotland, taking his sisters with him; and 
119:289,05['  ]| though he had written to$4$ Ralph more than once to$9$ 
119:289,06['  ]| ask about Mr%*Touchett's health the girl was not
119:289,07['  ]| liable to$4$ the embarrassment of such enquiries as, had
119:289,08['  ]| he still been in$4$ the neighbourhood, he would probably 
119:289,09['  ]| have felt bound to$9$ make in$4$ person.  
119:289,09@a   | He had excellent
119:289,10@a   | ways, but 
119:289,10['  ]| she felt sure that$3$ 
119:289,10@a   | if he had come to$4$ Gardencourt
119:289,11@a   | he would have seen Madame*Merle, and that$3$
119:289,12@a   | if he had seen her he would have liked her and betrayed
119:289,13@a   | to$4$ her that$3$ he was in$4$ love with her young 
119:289,14@a   | friend.  
119:289,14['  ]| It so$5#2$ happened that$3$ during this lady's previous
119:289,15['  ]| visits to$4$ Gardencourt ~~ each of them much
119:289,16['  ]| shorter than the present ~~ he had either not been
119:289,17['  ]| at Lockleigh or had not called at Mr%*Touchett's.
119:289,18['  ]| Therefore, though she knew him by$4$ name as the great
119:289,19['  ]| man of that$6#2$ county, she had no$2$ cause to$9$ suspect him
119:289,20['  ]| as a suitor of Mrs%*Touchett's freshly-imported niece.
119:289,21[H  ]| "You have plenty of time," 
119:289,21['  ]| she had said to$4$ Isabel
119:289,22['  ]| in$4$ return for$4$ the mutilated confidences which$6#1$ our
119:289,23['  ]| young woman made her and which$6#1$ did not pretend
119:289,24['  ]| to$9$ be perfect, though we have seen that$3$ at moments
119:289,25['  ]| the girl had compunctions at having said so$5#1$ much.
119:289,26[H  ]| "I am glad you have done nothing yet ~~ that$3$ you have
119:289,27[H  ]| it still to$9$ do.  It is a very good thing for$4$ a girl to$9$ have
119:289,28[H  ]| refused a few good offers ~~ so$5#1$ long of course as they
119:289,29[H  ]| are not the best she is likely to$9$ have.  Pardon me if
119:289,30[H  ]| my tone seems horribly corrupt; one must take the 
119:289,31[H  ]| worldly view sometimes.  Only do not keep on$5$ refusing
119:289,32[H  ]| for$4$ the sake of refusing.  It is a pleasant exercise of 
119:290,01[H  ]| power; but accepting is after all an exercise of power
119:290,02[H  ]| as well.  There is always the danger of refusing once
119:290,03[H  ]| too often.  It was not the one I fell into ~~ I did not
119:290,04[H  ]| refuse often enough.  You are an exquisite creature,
119:290,05[H  ]| and I should like$1$ to$9$ see you married to$4$ a prime minister.
119:290,06[H  ]| But speaking strictly, you know, you are not
119:290,07[H  ]| what is technically called a \9parti\.  You are extremely
119:290,08[H  ]| good-looking and extremely clever; in$4$ yourself you are
119:290,09[H  ]| quite exceptional.  You appear to$9$ have the vaguest
119:290,10[H  ]| ideas about your earthly possessions; but from what
119:290,11[H  ]| I can make out you are not embarrassed with an income.
119:290,12[H  ]| I wish you had a little money."
119:290,13[A  ]| "I wish I had!" 
119:290,13['  ]| said Isabel, simply, apparently
119:290,14['  ]| forgetting for$4$ the moment that$3$ her poverty had been 
119:290,15['  ]| a venial fault for$4$ two gallant gentlemen.
119:290,16['  ]| In$4$ spite of Sir*Matthew*Hope's benevolent recommendation
119:290,17['  ]| Madame*Merle did not remain to$4$ the end,
119:290,18['  ]| as the issue of poor Mr%*Touchett's malady had now
119:290,19['  ]| come frankly to$9$ be designated.  She was under pledges
119:290,20['  ]| to$4$ other people which$6#1$ had at last to$9$ be redeemed,
119:290,21['  ]| and she left Gardencourt with the understanding that$3$
119:290,22['  ]| she should in$4$ any event see Mrs%*Touchett there again,
119:290,23['  ]| or else in$4$ town, before quitting England.  Her parting
119:290,24['  ]| with Isabel was even more like$4$ the beginning of a 
119:290,25['  ]| friendship than their meeting had been.  
119:290,25[H  ]| "I am going
119:290,26[H  ]| to$4$ six places in$4$ succession, but I shall see no*one I
119:290,27[H  ]| like$1$ so$5#1$ well as you.  They will$1$ all be old friends, however; 
119:290,28[H  ]| one does not make new friends at my age.  I have
119:290,29[H  ]| made a great exception for$4$ you.  You must remember
119:290,30[H  ]| that$6#2$ and must think as well of me as possible.  You 
119:290,31[H  ]| must reward me by$4$ believing in$4$ me."
119:290,32['  ]| By$4$ way of answer Isabel kissed her, and, though
119:291,01['  ]| some women kiss with facility, there are kisses and
119:291,02['  ]| kisses, and this embrace was satisfactory to$4$ Madame*Merle.
119:291,03['  ]| Our young lady, after this, was much
119:291,04['  ]| alone; she saw her aunt and cousin only at meals,
119:291,05['  ]| and discovered that$3$ of the hours during which$6#1$ Mrs%*Touchett
119:291,06['  ]| was invisible only a minor portion was
119:291,07['  ]| now devoted to$4$ nursing her husband.  She spent the 
119:291,08['  ]| rest in$4$ her own apartments, to$4$ which$6#1$ access was not
119:291,09['  ]| allowed even to$4$ her niece, apparently occupied there
119:291,10['  ]| with mysterious and inscrutable exercises.  At table
119:291,11['  ]| she was grave and silent; but her solemnity was not
119:291,12['  ]| an attitude ~~ Isabel could see it was a conviction.
119:291,13['  ]| She wondered 
119:291,13@a   | if her aunt repented of having taken
119:291,14@a   | her own way so$5#1$ much; 
119:291,14['  ]| but there was no$2$ visible evidence 
119:291,15['  ]| of this ~~ no$2$ tears, no$2$ sighs, no$2$ exaggeration
119:291,16['  ]| of a zeal always to$4$ its own sense adequate.  Mrs%*Touchett 
119:291,17['  ]| seemed simply to$9$ feel the need of thinking 
119:291,18['  ]| things over and summing them up$5$; she had a little
119:291,19['  ]| moral account-book ~~ with columns unerringly ruled
119:291,20['  ]| and a sharp steel clasp ~~ which$6#1$ she kept with exemplary
119:291,21['  ]| neatness.  Uttered reflection had with her
119:291,22['  ]| ever, at any rate, a practical ring.  
119:291,22[G  ]| "If I had foreseen
119:291,23[G  ]| this I would not have proposed your coming abroad now,"
119:291,24['  ]| she said to$4$ Isabel after Madame*Merle had left the 
119:291,25['  ]| house.  
119:291,25[G  ]| "I would have waited and sent for$4$ you next year."
119:291,26[A  ]| "So$3$ that$3$ perhaps I should never have known my
119:291,27[A  ]| uncle?  It is a great happiness to$4$ me to$9$ have come
119:291,28[A  ]| now."
119:291,29[G  ]| "That$6#2$ is very well.  But it was not that$3$ you might 
119:291,30[G  ]| know your uncle that$3$ I brought you to$4$ Europe".  
119:291,30['  ]| A
119:291,31['  ]| perfectly veracious speech; 
119:291,31@a   | but, 
119:291,31['  ]| as Isabel thought,
119:291,32@a   | not as perfectly timed.  
119:291,32['  ]| She had leisure to$9$ think
119:292,01['  ]| of this and other matters.  She took a solitary
119:292,02['  ]| walk every day and spent vague hours in$4$ turning over
119:292,03['  ]| books in$4$ the library.  Among the subjects that$6#1$ engaged 
119:292,04['  ]| her attention were the adventures of her friend
119:292,05['  ]| Miss*Stackpole, with whom she was in$4$ regular correspondence.
119:292,06['  ]| Isabel liked her friend's private epistolary 
119:292,07['  ]| style better than her public; that$6#2$ is she felt 
119:292,07@a   | her 
119:292,08@a   | public letters would have been excellent if they had
119:292,09@a   | not been printed.  
119:292,09['  ]| Henrietta's career, however, was
119:292,10['  ]| not so$5#1$ successful as might have been wished even in$4$
119:292,11['  ]| the interest of her private felicity; that$6#2$ view of the 
119:292,12['  ]| inner life of Great*Britain which$6#1$ she was so$5#1$ eager to$9$
119:292,13['  ]| take appeared to$9$ dance before her like$4$ an \7ignis*fatuus\.
119:292,14['  ]| The invitation from Lady*Pensil, for$4$ mysterious reasons,
119:292,15['  ]| had never arrived; and poor Mr%*Bantling himself,
119:292,16['  ]| with all his friendly ingenuity, had been unable
119:292,17['  ]| to$9$ explain so$5#1$ grave a dereliction on$4$ the part of a missive
119:292,18['  ]| that$6#1$ had obviously been sent.  He had evidently
119:292,19['  ]| taken Henrietta's affairs much to$4$ heart, and believed
119:292,20['  ]| that$3$ he owed her a set-off to$4$ this illusory visit to$4$ Bedfordshire.
119:292,21[I  ]| "He says he should think I would go to$4$
119:292,22[I  ]| the Continent," 
119:292,22['  ]| Henrietta wrote; 
119:292,22[I  ]| "and as he thinks
119:292,23[I  ]| of going there himself I suppose his advice is sincere.
119:292,24[I  ]| He wants to$9$ know why I do not take a view of French
119:292,25[I  ]| life; and it is a fact that$3$ I want very much to$9$ see the
119:292,26[I  ]| new Republic.  Mr%*Bantling does not care much about
119:292,27[I  ]| the Republic, but he thinks of going over to$4$ Paris
119:292,28[I  ]| anyway.  I must say he is quite as attentive as I could
119:292,29[I  ]| wish, and at least I shall have seen one polite Englishman.
119:292,30[I  ]| I keep telling Mr%*Bantling that$3$ he ought to$9$
119:292,31[I  ]| have been an American, and you should see how that$6#2$ 
119:292,32[I  ]| pleases him.  Whenever I say so$5#2$ he always breaks out
119:293,01[I  ]| with the same exclamation ~~ ""Ah, but really, come
119:293,02[I  ]| now!"""  
119:293,02['  ]| A few days later she wrote that$3$ 
119:293,02@i   | she had decided
119:293,03@i   | to$9$ go to$4$ Paris at the end of the week and that$3$
119:293,04@i   | Mr%*Bantling had promised to$9$ see her off ~~ perhaps
119:293,05@i   | even would go as far as Dover with her.  She would
119:293,06@i   | wait in$4$ Paris till Isabel should arrive, 
119:293,06['  ]| Henrietta
119:293,07['  ]| added; speaking quite as if Isabel were to$9$ start on$4$ her
119:293,08['  ]| continental journey alone and making no$2$ allusion to$4$
119:293,09['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett.  Bearing in$4$ mind this interest in$4$ their
119:293,10['  ]| late companion, our heroine communicated several 
119:293,11['  ]| passages from this correspondence to$4$ Ralph, who$6#1$
119:293,12['  ]| followed with an emotion akin to$4$ suspense the career
119:293,13['  ]| of the representative of the \Interviewer\.
119:293,14[B  ]| "It seems to$4$ me she is doing very well," 
119:293,14['  ]| he said,
119:293,15[B  ]| "going over to$4$ Paris with an ex-Lancer!  If she wants
119:293,16[B  ]| something to$9$ write about she has only to$9$ describe 
119:293,17[B  ]| that$6#2$ episode."
119:293,18[A  ]| "It is not conventional, certainly," 
119:293,18['  ]| Isabel answered;
119:293,19[A  ]| "but if you mean that$3$ ~~ as far as Henrietta is concerned
119:293,20[A  ]| ~~ it is not perfectly innocent, you are very
119:293,21[A  ]| much mistaken.  You will$1$ never understand Henrietta."
119:293,22[B  ]| "Pardon me, I understand her perfectly.  I did not
119:293,23[B  ]| at all at first, but now I have the point of view.  I am
119:293,24[B  ]| afraid, however, that$3$ Bantling has not; he may have
119:293,25[B  ]| some surprises.  Oh, I understand Henrietta as well
119:293,26[B  ]| as if I had made her!"
119:293,27['  ]| Isabel was by$4$ no$2$ means sure of this, but she abstained
119:293,28['  ]| from exprssing further doubt, for$3$ she was
119:293,29['  ]| disposed in$4$ these days to$9$ extend a great charity to$4$
119:293,30['  ]| her cousin.  One afternoon less than a week after Madame*Merle's
119:293,31['  ]| departure she was seated in$4$ the library
119:293,32['  ]| with a volume to$4$ which$6#1$ her attention was not fastened. 
119:294,01['  ]| She had placed herself in$4$ a deep window-bench, from
119:294,02['  ]| which$6#1$ she looked out into the dull, damp park; and
119:294,03['  ]| as the library stood at right angles to$4$ the entrance-front
119:294,04['  ]| of the house she could see the doctor's brougham,
119:294,05['  ]| which$6#1$ had been waiting for$4$ the last two hours before
119:294,06['  ]| the door.  She was struck with his remaining so$5#1$ long,
119:294,07['  ]| but at last she saw him appear in$4$ the portico, stand
119:294,08['  ]| a moment slowly drawing on$4$ his gloves and looking
119:294,09['  ]| at the knees of his horse, and then get into the vehicle
119:294,10['  ]| and roll away.  Isabel kept her place for$4$ half an hour;
119:294,11['  ]| there was a great stillness in$4$ the house.  It was so$5#1$
119:294,12['  ]| great that$3$ when she at last heard a soft, slow step
119:294,13['  ]| on$4$ the deep carpet of the room she was almost startled
119:294,14['  ]| by$4$ the sound.  She turned quickly away from the window
119:294,15['  ]| and saw Ralph*Touchett standing there with his
119:294,16['  ]| hands still in$4$ his pockets, but with a face absolutely
119:294,17['  ]| void of its usual latent smile.  She got up$5$ and her 
119:294,18['  ]| movement and glance were a question.
119:294,19[B  ]| "It is all over," 
119:294,19['  ]| said Ralph.
119:294,20[A  ]| "Do you mean that$3$ my uncle ~~ ?"  
119:294,20['  ]| And Isabel
119:294,21['  ]| stopped.
119:294,22[B  ]| "My dear father died an hour ago."
119:294,23[A  ]| "Ah, my poor Ralph!" 
119:294,23['  ]| she gently wailed, putting
119:294,24['  ]| out her two hands to$4$ him.
120:295,01['  ]| Some fortnight after this Madame*Merle drove up$5$ in$4$
120:295,02['  ]| a hansom cab to$4$ the house in$4$ Winchester*Square.  As
120:295,03['  ]| she descended from her vehicle she observed, suspended
120:295,04['  ]| between the dining-room windows, a large,
120:295,05['  ]| neat, wooden tablet, on$4$ whose fresh black ground
120:295,06['  ]| were inscribed in$4$ white paint the words ~~ 
120:295,06@x   | "This
120:295,07@x   | noble freehold mansion to$9$ be sold"; 
120:295,07['  ]| with the name
120:295,08['  ]| of the agent to$4$ whom application should be made.
120:295,09[H  ]| "They certainly lose no$2$ time," 
120:295,09['  ]| said the visitor as,
120:295,10['  ]| after sounding the big brass knocker, she waited to$9$
120:295,11['  ]| be admitted; 
120:295,11[H  ]| "it is a practical country!"  
120:295,11['  ]| And within
120:295,12['  ]| the house, as she ascended to$4$ the drawing-room, she
120:295,13['  ]| perceived numerous signs of abdication; pictures removed 
120:295,14['  ]| from the walls and placed upon$4$ sofas, windows
120:295,15['  ]| undraped and floors laid bare.  Mrs%*Touchett presently
120:295,16['  ]| received her and intimated in$4$ a few words that$3$
120:295,17['  ]| condolences might be taken for$4$ granted.
120:295,18[G  ]| "I know what you are going to$9$ say ~~ he was a very
120:295,19[G  ]| good man.  But I know it better than any*one, because
120:295,20[G  ]| I gave him more chance to$9$ show it.  In$4$ that$3$ I 
120:295,21[G  ]| think I was a good wife."  
120:295,21['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett added that$3$ 
120:295,22@g   | at the end her husband apparently recognised this
120:295,23@g   | fact.  
120:295,23[G  ]| "He has treated me most liberally," 
120:295,23['  ]| she said;
120:295,24[G  ]| "I will$1$ not say more liberally than I expected, because
120:295,25[G  ]| I did not expect.  You know that$3$ as a general thing
120:295,26[G  ]| I do not expect.  But he chose, I presume, to$9$ recognise
120:296,01[G  ]| the fact that$3$ though I lived much abroad and
120:296,02[G  ]| mingled ~~ you may say freely ~~ in$4$ foreign life, I 
120:296,03[G  ]| never exhibited the smallest preference for$4$ any*one
120:296,04[G  ]| else."
120:296,05[H  ]| "For$4$ any*one but yourself," 
120:296,05['  ]| Madame*Merle mentally
120:296,06['  ]| observed; but the reflexion was perfectly inaudible.
120:296,07['  ]| 
120:296,08[G  ]| "I never sacrificed my husband to$4$ another," 
120:296,08['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett
120:296,09['  ]| continued with her stout curtness.
120:296,10[H  ]| "Oh no$7$," 
120:296,10['  ]| thought Madame*Merle; 
120:296,10[H  ]| "you never did
120:296,11[H  ]| anything for$4$ another!"
120:296,12['  ]| There was a certain cynicism in$4$ these mute comments
120:296,13['  ]| which$6#1$ demands an explanation; the more so$5#2$ 
120:296,14['  ]| as they are not in$4$ accord either with the view ~~ somewhat 
120:296,15['  ]| superficial perhaps ~~ that$3$ we have hitherto enjoyed
120:296,16['  ]| of Madame*Merle's character or with the literal
120:296,17['  ]| facts of Mrs%*Touchett's history; the more so$5#2$, too, as
120:296,18['  ]| Madame*Merle had a well-founded conviction that$3$
120:296,19@h   | her friend's last remark was not in$4$ the least to$9$ be construed
120:296,20@h   | as a side-thrust at herself.  
120:296,20['  ]| The truth is that$3$ the 
120:296,21['  ]| moment she had crossed the threshold she received an
120:296,22['  ]| impression that$3$ 
120;296,22@h   | Mr%*Touchett's death had had subtle
120:296,23@h   | consequences and that$3$ these consequences had been 
120:296,24@h   | profitable to$4$ a little circle of persons among whom
120:296,25@h   | she was not numbered.  
120:296,25['  ]| Of course it was an event
120:296,26['  ]| which$6#1$ would naturally have consequences; her imagination
120:296,27['  ]| had more than once rested upon$4$ this fact
120:296,28['  ]| during her stay at Gardencourt.  But it had been one
120:296,29['  ]| thing to$9$ foresee such a matter mentally and another
120:296,30['  ]| to$9$ stand among its massive records.  The idea of a 
120:296,31['  ]| distribution of property ~~ she would almost have
120:296,32['  ]| said of spoils ~~ just now pressed upon$4$ her senses and 
120:297,01['  ]| irritated her with a sense of exclusion.  I am far from
120:297,02['  ]| wishing to$9$ picture her as one of the hungry mouths
120:297,03['  ]| or envious hearts of the general herd, but we have
120:297,04['  ]| already learned of her having desires that$6#1$ had never
120:297,05['  ]| been satisfied.  If she had been questioned, she would
120:297,06['  ]| of course have admitted ~~ with a fine proud smile ~~
120:297,07['  ]| that$3$ she had not the faintest claim to$4$ a share in$4$ Mr%*Touchett's
120:297,08['  ]| relics.  
120:297,08[H  ]| "There was never anything in$4$ the 
120:297,09[H  ]| world between us," 
120:297,09['  ]| she would have said.  
120:297,09[H  ]| "There
120:297,10[H  ]| was never that$6#2$, poor man!" 
120:297,10['  ]| ~~ with a fillip of her
120:297,11['  ]| thumb and her third finger.  I hasten to$9$ add, moreover,
120:297,12['  ]| that$3$ if she could not at the present moment keep
120:297,13['  ]| from quite perversely yearning she was careful not to$9$ 
120:297,14['  ]| betray herself.  She had after all as much sympathy
120:297,15['  ]| for$4$ Mrs%*Touchett's gains as for$4$ her losses.
120:297,16[G  ]| "He has left me this house," 
120:297,16['  ]| the newly-made
120:297,17['  ]| widow said; 
120:297,17[G  ]| "but of course I shall not live in$4$ it; I have
120:297,18[G  ]| a much better one in$4$ Florence.  The will$0$ was opened
120:297,19[G  ]| only three days since, but I have already offered the
120:297,20[G  ]| house for$4$ sale.   I have also a share in$4$ a bank; but I
120:297,21[G  ]| do not yet understand if I am obliged to$9$ leave it there.
120:297,22[G  ]| If not I shall certainly take it out.  Ralph, of course,
120:297,23[G  ]| has Gardencourt; but I am not sure that$3$ he will$1$ have
120:297,24[G  ]| means to$9$ keep up$5$ the place.  He is naturally left very
120:297,25[G  ]| well off, but his father has given away an immense
120:297,26[G  ]| deal of money; there are bequests to$4$ a string of third
120:297,27[G  ]| cousins in$4$ Vermont.  Ralph, however, is very fond of 
120:297,28[G  ]| Gardencourt and would be quite capable of living
120:297,29[G  ]| there ~~ in$4$ summer ~~ with a maid-of-all-work and
120:297,30[G  ]| a gardener's boy.  There is one remarkable clause in$4$
120:297,31[G  ]| my husband's will$0$," 
120:297,31['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett added.  
120:297,31[G  ]| "He has
120:297,32[G  ]| left my niece a fortune."
120:298,01[H  ]| "A fortune!" 
120:298,01['  ]| Madame*Merle softly repeated.
120:298,02[G  ]| "Isabel steps into something like$4$ seventy thousand 
120:298,03[G  ]| pounds."
120:298,04['  ]| Madame*Merle's hands were clasped in$4$ her lap;
120:298,05['  ]| at this she raised them, still clasped, and held them
120:298,06['  ]| a moment against her bosom while her eyes, a little
120:298,07['  ]| dilated, fixed themselves on$4$ those of her friend.
120:298,08[H  ]| "Ah," 
120:298,08['  ]| she cried, 
120:298,08[H  ]| "the clever creature!"
120:298,09['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett gave her a quick look.  
120:298,09[G  ]| "What do
120:298,10[G  ]| you mean by$4$ that$6#2$?"
120:298,11['  ]| For$4$ an instant Madame*Merle's colour rose and she
120:298,12['  ]| dropped her eyes.  
120:298,12[H  ]| "It certainly is clever to$9$ achieve
120:298,13[H  ]| such results ~~ without an effort!"
120:298,14[G  ]| "There assuredly was no$2$ effort.  Do not call it an
120:298,15[G  ]| achievement."
120:298,16['  ]| Madame*Merle was seldom guilty of the awkwardness
120:298,17['  ]| of retracting what she had said; her wisdom
120:298,18['  ]| was shown rather in$4$ maintaining it and placing it in$4$
120:298,19['  ]| a favourable light.  
120:298,19[H  ]| "My dear friend, Isabel would
120:298,20[H  ]| certainly not have had seventy thousand pounds left
120:298,21[H  ]| her if she had not been the most charming girl in$4$ 
120:298,22[H  ]| the world.  Her charm includes great cleverness."
120:298,23[G  ]| "She never dreamed, I am sure, of my husband's
120:298,24[G  ]| doing anything for$4$ her; and I never dreamed of it 
120:298,25[G  ]| either, for$3$ he never spoke to$4$ me of his intention,"
120:298,26['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett said.  
120:298,26[G  ]| "She had no$2$ claim upon$4$ him
120:298,27[G  ]| whatever; it was no$2$ great recommendation to$4$ him
120:298,28[G  ]| that$3$ she was my niece.  Whatever she achieved she
120:298,29[G  ]| achieved unconsciously."
120:298,30[H  ]| "Ah," 
120:298,30['  ]| rejoined Madame*Merle, 
120:298,30[H  ]| "those are the 
120:298,31[H  ]| greatest strokes!"
120:298,32['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett reserved her opinion.  
120:298,32[G  ]| "The girl is
120:299,01[G  ]| fortunate; I do not deny that$6#2$.  But for$4$ the present
120:299,02[G  ]| she is simply stupefied."
120:299,03[H  ]| "Do you mean that$3$ she does not know what to$9$ do 
120:299,04[H  ]| with the money?"
120:299,05[G  ]| "That$6#2$, I think, she has hardly considered.  She
120:299,06[G  ]| does not know what to$9$ think about the matter at all.
120:299,07[G  ]| It has been as if a big gun were suddenly fired off
120:299,08[G  ]| behind her; she is feeling herself to$9$ see if she be hurt.
120:299,09[G  ]| It is but three days since she received a visit from the 
120:299,10[G  ]| principal executor, who$6#1$ came in$4$ person, very gallantly,
120:299,11[G  ]| to$9$ notify her.  He told me afterwards that$3$
120:299,12[G  ]| when he had made his little speech she suddenly
120:299,13[G  ]| burst into tears.  The money is to$9$ remain in$4$ the 
120:299,14[G  ]| affairs of the bank, and she is to$9$ draw the interest."
120:299,15['  ]| Madame*Merle shook her head with a wise and 
120:299,16['  ]| now quite benignant smile.  
120:299,16[H  ]| "How very delicious!
120:299,17[H  ]| After she has done that$6#2$ two or three times she will$1$ get 
120:299,18[H  ]| used to$4$ it."  
120:299,18['  ]| Then after a silence, 
120:299,18[H  ]| "What does your
120:299,19[H  ]| son think of it?" 
120:299,19['  ]| she abruptly asked.
120:299,20[G  ]| "He left England before the will$0$ was read ~~ used
120:299,21[G  ]| up$5$ by$4$ his fatigue and anxiety and hurrying off to$4$ the
120:299,22[G  ]| south.  He is on$4$ his way to$4$ the Riviera and I have not
120:299,23[G  ]| yet heard from him.  But it is not likely he will$1$ ever
120:299,24[G  ]| object to$4$ anything done by$4$ his father."
120:299,25[H  ]| "Did not you say his own share had been cut
120:299,26[H  ]| down?"
120:299,27[G  ]| "Only at his wish.  I know that$3$ he urged his father
120:299,28[G  ]| to$9$ do something for$4$ the people in$4$ America.  He is
120:299,29[G  ]| not in$4$ the least addicted to$4$ looking after number one."
120:299,30[H  ]| "It depends upon$4$ whom he regards as number 
120:299,31[H  ]| one!" 
120:299,31['  ]| said Madame*Merle.  And she remained
120:299,32['  ]| thoughtful a moment, her eyes bent on$4$ the floor.
120:300,01[H  ]| "Am I not to$9$ see your happy niece?" 
120:300,01['  ]| she asked at
120:300,02['  ]| last as she raised them.
120:300,03[G  ]| "You may see her; but you will$1$ not be struck with
120:300,04[G  ]| her being happy.  She has looked as solemn, these
120:300,05[G  ]| three days, as a Cimabue Madonna!"  
120:300,05['  ]| And Mrs%*Touchett
120:300,06['  ]| rang for$4$ a servant.
120:300,07['  ]| Isabel came in$5$ shortly after the footman had been 
120:300,08['  ]| sent to$9$ call her; and Madame*Merle thought, as
120:300,09['  ]| she appeared, that$3$ 
120:300,09@h   | Mrs%*Touchett's comparison had
120:300,10@h   | its force.  
120:300,10['  ]| The girl was pale and grave ~~ an effect 
120:300,11['  ]| not mitigated by$4$ her deeper mourning; but the 
120:300,12['  ]| smile of her brightest moments came into her face
120:300,13['  ]| as she saw Madame*Merle, who$6#1$ went forward,
120:300,14['  ]| laid her hand on$4$ our heroine's shoulder and, after
120:300,15['  ]| looking at her a moment, kissed her as if she were
120:300,16['  ]| returning the kiss she had received from her at
120:300,17['  ]| Gardencourt.  This was the only allusion the visitor,
120:300,18['  ]| in$4$ her great good taste, made for$4$ the present to$4$
120:300,19['  ]| her young friend's inheritance.
120:300,20['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett had no$2$ purpose of awaiting in$4$ London
120:300,21['  ]| the sale of her house.  After selecting from among
120:300,22['  ]| its furniture the objects she wished to$9$ transport to$4$
120:300,23['  ]| her other abode, she left the rest of its contents to$9$ be
120:300,24['  ]| disposed of by$4$ the auctioneer and took her departure
120:300,25['  ]| for$4$ the Continent.  She was of course accompanied 
120:300,26['  ]| on$4$ this journey by$4$ her niece, who$6#1$ now had
120:300,27['  ]| plenty of leisure to$9$ measure and weigh and otherwise
120:300,28['  ]| handle the windfall on$4$ which$6#1$ Madame*Merle
120:300,29['  ]| had covertly congratulated her.  Isabel thought very
120:300,30['  ]| often of the fact of her accession of means, looking
120:300,31['  ]| at it in$4$ a dozen different lights; but we shall not
120:300,32['  ]| now attempt to$9$ follow her train of thought or to$9$
120:301,01['  ]| explain exactly why her new consciousness was at
120:301,02['  ]| first oppressive.  This failure to$9$ rise to$4$ immediate
120:301,03['  ]| joy was indeed but brief; the girl presently made up$5$
120:301,04['  ]| her mind that$3$ 
120:301,04@a   | to$9$ be rich was a virtue because it was
120:301,05@a   | to$9$ be able to$9$ \do\, and that$3$ to$9$ do could only be sweet.
120:301,06['  ]| It was the graceful contrary of the stupid side of
120:301,07['  ]| weakness ~~ especially the feminine variety.  To$9$ be
120:301,08['  ]| weak was, for$4$ a delicate young person, rather graceful,
120:301,09['  ]| but, 
120:301,09@a   | after all, 
120:301,09['  ]| as Isabel said to$4$ herself, 
120:301,09@a   | there
120:301,10@a   | was a larger grace than that$6#2$.  Just now, it is true,
120:301,11@a   | there was not much to$9$ do ~~ once she had sent off
120:301,12@a   | a cheque to$4$ Lily and another to$4$ poor Edith; 
120:301,12['  ]| but
120:301,13['  ]| she was thankful for$4$ the quiet months which$6#1$ her
120:301,14['  ]| mourning robes and her aunt's fresh widowhood
120:301,15['  ]| compelled them to$9$ spend together.  The acquisition
120:301,16['  ]| of power made her serious; she scrutinised her power
120:301,17['  ]| with a kind of tender ferocity, but was not eager
120:301,18['  ]| to$9$ exercise it.  She began to$9$ do so$5#2$ during a stay of
120:301,19['  ]| some weeks which$6#1$ she eventually made with her aunt
120:301,20['  ]| in$4$ Paris, though in$4$ ways that$6#1$ will$1$ inevitably present
120:301,21['  ]| themselves as trivial.  They were the ways most
120:301,22['  ]| naturally imposed in$4$ a city in$4$ which$6#1$ the shops are
120:301,23['  ]| the admiration of the world, and that$6#1$ were prescribed
120:301,24['  ]| unreservedly by$4$ the guidance of Mrs%*Touchett,
120:301,25['  ]| who$6#1$ took a rigidly practical view of the transformation
120:301,26['  ]| of her niece from a poor girl to$4$ a rich one.
120:301,27[G  ]| "Now that$3$ you are a young woman of fortune you
120:301,28[G  ]| must know how to$9$ play the part ~~ I mean to$9$ play
120:301,29[G  ]| it well," 
120:301,29['  ]| she said to$4$ Isabel once for$4$ all; and she
120:301,30['  ]| added that$3$ 
120:301,30@g   | the girl's first duty was to$9$ have everything
120:301,31@g   | handsome.  
120:301,31[G  ]| "You do not know how to$9$ take
120:301,32[G  ]| care of your things, but you must learn," 
120:301,31['  ]| she went
120:302,01['  ]| on$5$; this was Isabel's second duty.  Isabel submitted,
120:302,02['  ]| but for$4$ the present her imagination was not kindled;
120:302,03['  ]| she longed for$4$ opportunities, but these were not the 
120:302,04['  ]| opportunities she meant.
120:302,05['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett rarely changed her plans, and,
120:302,06['  ]| having intended before her husband's death to$9$ spend
120:302,07['  ]| a part of the winter in$4$ Paris, saw no$2$ reason to$9$ deprive
120:302,08['  ]| herself ~~ still less to$9$ deprive her companion ~~ 
120:302,09['  ]| of this advantage.  Though they would live in$4$ great
120:302,10['  ]| retirement she might still present her niece, informally,
120:302,11['  ]| to$4$ the little circle of her fellow countrymen
120:302,12['  ]| dwelling upon$4$ the skirts of the Champs*Elyse=es.
120:302,13['  ]| With many of these amiable colonists Mrs%*Touchett
120:302,14['  ]| was intimate; she shared their expatriation, their
120:302,15['  ]| convictions, their pastimes, their ennui.  Isabel saw
120:302,16['  ]| them arrive with a good deal of assiduity at her
120:302,17['  ]| aunt's hotel, and pronounced on$4$ them with a trenchancy
120:302,18['  ]| doubtless to$9$ be accounted for$5$ by$4$ the temporary
120:302,19['  ]| exaltation of her sense of human duty.  She
120:302,20['  ]| made up$5$ her mind that$3$ their lives were, though
120:302,21['  ]| luxurious, inane, and incurred some disfavour by$4$
120:302,22['  ]| expressing this view on$4$ bright Sunday afternoons,
120:302,23['  ]| when the American absentees were engaged in$4$ calling
120:302,24['  ]| on$4$ each other.  Though her listeners passed for$4$
120:302,25['  ]| people kept exemplarily genial by$4$ their cooks and
120:302,26['  ]| dressmakers, two or three of them thought her cleverness,
120:302,27['  ]| which$6#1$ was generally admitted, inferior to$4$
120:302,28['  ]| that$6#2$ of the new theatrical pieces.  
120:302,28[A  ]| "You all live
120:302,29[A  ]| here this way, but what does it lead to$4$?"  
120:302,29['  ]| she was
120:302,30['  ]| pleased to$9$ ask.  
120:302,30[A  ]| "It does not seem to$9$ lead to$4$ anything,
120:302,31[A  ]| and I should think you would get very tired of it."
120:302,32['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett thought the question worthy of
120:303,01['  ]| Henrietta*Stackpole.  The two ladies had found
120:303,02['  ]| Henrietta in$4$ Paris, and Isabel constantly saw her;
120:303,03['  ]| so$3$ that$3$ Mrs%*Touchett had some reason for$4$ saying
120:303,04['  ]| to$4$ herself that$3$ 
120:303,04@g   | if her niece were not clever enough 
120:303,05@g   | to$9$ originate almost anything, she might be suspected
120:303,06@g   | of having borrowed that$6#2$ style of remark from her
120:303,07@g   | journalistic friend.  
120:303,07['  ]| The first occasion on$4$ which$6#1$ Isabel
120:303,08['  ]| had spoken was that$6#2$ of a visit paid by$4$ the two 
120:303,09['  ]| ladies to$4$ Mrs%*Luce, an old friend of Mrs%*Touchett's
120:303,10['  ]| and the only person in$4$ Paris she now went to$9$ see.
120:303,11['  ]| Mrs%*Luce had been living in$4$ Paris since the days
120:303,12['  ]| of Louis*Philippe; she used to$9$ say jocosely that$3$
120:303,13@v   | she was one of the generation of 1830 ~~ 
120:303,13['  ]| a joke of
120:303,14['  ]| which$6#1$ the point was not always taken.  When it
120:303,15['  ]| failed Mrs%*Luce used to$9$ explain ~~ 
120:303,15[V  ]| "Oh yes, I am one
120:303,16[V  ]| of the romantics;" 
120:303,16['  ]| her French had never become 
120:303,17['  ]| quite perfect.  She was always at home on$4$ Sunday
120:303,18['  ]| afternoons and surrounded by$4$ sympathetic compatriots,
120:303,19['  ]| usually the same.  In$4$ fact she was at home
120:303,20['  ]| at all times, and reproduced with wondrous truth
120:303,21['  ]| in$4$ her well-cushioned little corner of the brilliant
120:303,22['  ]| city, the domestic tone of her native Baltimore.  This
120:303,23['  ]| reduced Mr%*Luce, her worthy husband, a tall, lean,
120:303,24['  ]| grizzled, well-brushed gentleman who$6#1$ wore a gold
120:303,25['  ]| eye-glass and carried his hat a little too much on$4$
120:303,26['  ]| the back of his head, to$4$ mere platonic praise of the 
120:303,27[W  ]| ""distractions"" 
120:303,27['  ]| of Paris ~~ they were his great word
120:303,28['  ]| ~~ since you would never have guessed from what 
120:303,29['  ]| cares he escaped to$4$ them.  One of them was that$3$ he
120:303,30['  ]| went every day to$4$ the American banker's, where
120:303,31['  ]| he found a post-office that$6#1$ was almost as sociable
120:303,32['  ]| and colloquial an institution as in$4$ an American
120:304,01['  ]| country town.  He passed an hour (in$4$ fine weather)
120:304,02['  ]| in$4$ a chair in$4$ the Champs*Elyse=es, and he dined
120:304,03['  ]| uncommonly well at his own table, seated above
120:304,04['  ]| a waxed floor which$6#1$ it was Mrs%*Luce's happiness
120:304,05['  ]| to$9$ believe had a finer polish than any other in$4$ the 
120:304,06['  ]| French capital.  Occasionally he dined with a friend
120:304,07['  ]| or two at the Cafe=*Anglais, where his talent for$4$ ordering 
120:304,08['  ]| a dinner was a source of felicity to$4$ his companions 
120:304,09['  ]| and an object of admiration even to$4$ the headwaiter
120:304,10['  ]| of the establishment.  These were his only
120:304,11['  ]| known pastimes, but they had beguiled his hours
120:304,12['  ]| for$4$ upwards of half a century, and they doubtless
120:304,13['  ]| justified his frequent declaration that$3$ 
120:304,13@w   | there was no$2$
120:304,14@w   | place like$4$ Paris.  
120:304,14['  ]| In$4$ no$2$ other place, on$4$ these terms,
120:304,15['  ]| could Mr%*Luce flatter himself that$3$ he was enjoying
120:304,16['  ]| life.  There was nothing like$4$ Paris, but it must
120:304,17['  ]| be confessed that$3$ Mr%*Luce thought less highly of
120:304,18['  ]| this scene of his dissipations than in$4$ earlier days.
120:304,19['  ]| In$4$ the list of his resources his political reflections
120:304,20['  ]| should not be omitted, for$3$ they were doubtless the 
120:304,21['  ]| animating principle of many hours that$6#1$ superficially
120:304,22['  ]| seemed vacant.  Like$4$ many of his fellow colonists
120:304,23['  ]| Mr%*Luce was a high ~~ or rather a deep ~~ conservative,
120:304,24['  ]| and gave no$2$ countenance to$4$ the government
120:304,25['  ]| lately established in$4$ France.  He had no$2$ faith in$4$ its
120:304,26['  ]| duration and would assure you from year to$4$ year
120:304,27['  ]| that$3$ 
120:304,27@w   | its end was close at hand.  
120:304,27[W  ]| "They want to$9$ be
120:304,28[W  ]| kept down, sir, to$9$ be kept down; nothing but the
120:304,29[W  ]| strong hand ~~ the iron heel ~~ will$1$ do for$4$ them,"
120:304,30['  ]| he would frequently say of the French people; and
120:304,31['  ]| his ideal of fine showy clever rule was that$6#2$ of the 
120:304,32['  ]| superseded Empire.  
120:304,32[W  ]| "Paris is much less attractive
120:305,01[W  ]| than in$4$ the days of the Emperor; \he\ knew how to$9$
120:305,02[W  ]| make a city pleasant," 
120:305,02['  ]| Mr%*Luce had often remarked
120:305,03['  ]| to$4$ Mrs%*Touchett, who$6#1$ was quite of his own way
120:305,04['  ]| of thinking and wished to$9$ know 
120:305,04@g   | what one had
120:305,05@g   | crossed that$6#2$ odious Atlantic for$4$ but to$9$ get away from
120:305,06@g   | republics.
120:305,07[W  ]| "Why, madam, sitting in$4$ the Champs*Elyse=es,
120:305,08[W  ]| opposite to$4$ the Palace of Industry, I have seen the 
120:305,09[W  ]| court-carriages from the Tuileries pass up$5$ and down
120:305,10[W  ]| as many as seven times a day.  I remember one
120:305,11[W  ]| occasion when they went as high as nine.  What 
120:305,12[W  ]| do you see now?  It is no$2$ use talking, the style is
120:305,13[W  ]| all gone.  Napoleon knew what the French people
120:305,14[W  ]| want, and there will$1$ be a dark cloud over Paris, \our\
120:305,15[W  ]| Paris, till they get the Empire back again."
120:305,16['  ]| Among Mrs%*Luce's visitors on$4$ Sunday afternoons
120:305,17['  ]| was a young man with whom Isabel had had a good
120:305,18['  ]| deal of conversation and whom she found full of
120:305,19['  ]| valuable knowledge.  Mr%*Edward*Rosier ~~ Ned*Rosier
120:305,20['  ]| as he was called ~~ was native to$4$ New*York
120:305,21['  ]| and had been brought up$5$ in$4$ Paris, living there under 
120:305,22['  ]| the eye of his father who$6#1$, as it happened, had been
120:305,23['  ]| an early and intimate friend of the late Mr%*Archer.
120:305,24['  ]| Edward*Rosier remembered Isabel as a little girl;
120:305,25['  ]| it had been his father who$6#1$ came to$4$ the rescue of 
120:305,26['  ]| the small Archers at the inn at Neufcha^tel (he was
120:305,27['  ]| travelling that$6#2$ way with the boy and had stopped
120:305,28['  ]| at the hotel by$4$ chance), after their \9bonne\ had gone
120:305,29['  ]| off with the Russian prince and when Mr%*Archer's
120:305,30['  ]| whereabouts remained for$4$ some days a mystery.
120:305,31['  ]| Isabel remembered perfectly the neat little male
120:305,32['  ]| child whose hair smelt of a delicious cosmetic and
120:306,01['  ]| who$6#1$ had a \9bonne\ all his own, warranted to$9$ lose sight
120:306,02['  ]| of him under no$2$ provocation.  Isabel took a walk
120:306,03['  ]| with the pair beside the lake and thought little Edward
120:306,04['  ]| as pretty as an angel ~~ a comparison by$4$ no$2$
120:306,05['  ]| means conventional in$4$ her mind, for$3$ she had a very
120:306,06['  ]| definite conception of a type of features which$6#1$ she
120:306,07['  ]| supposed to$9$ be angelic and which$6#1$ her new friend
120:306,08['  ]| perfectly illustrated.  A small pink face surmounted
120:306,09['  ]| by$4$ a blue velvet bonnet and set off by$4$ a stiff embroidered
120:306,10['  ]| collar had become the countenance of
120:306,11['  ]| her childish dreams; and she had firmly believed
120:306,12['  ]| for$4$ some time afterwards that$3$ the heavenly hosts
120:306,13['  ]| conversed among themselves in$4$ a queer little dialect
120:306,14['  ]| of French-English, expressing the properest sentiments,
120:306,15['  ]| as when Edward told her that$3$ he was 
120:306,15[L  ]| "defended" 
120:306,16['  ]| by$4$ his \9bonne\ to$9$ go near the edge of the lake,
120:306,17['  ]| and that$3$ one must always obey to$4$ one's \9bonne\.  Ned*Rosier's
120:306,18['  ]| English had improved; at least it exhibited
120:306,19['  ]| in$4$ a less degree the French variation.  His father
120:306,20['  ]| was dead and his \9bonne\ dismissed, but the young
120:306,21['  ]| man still conformed to$4$ the spirit of their teaching
120:306,22['  ]| ~~ he never went to$4$ the edge of the lake.  There
120:306,23['  ]| was still something agreeable to$4$ the nostrils about 
120:306,24['  ]| him and something not offensive to$4$ nobler organs.
120:306,25['  ]| He was a very gentle and gracious youth, with what
120:306,26['  ]| are called cultivated tastes ~~ an acquaintance with
120:306,27['  ]| old china, with good wine, with the bindings of books,
120:306,28['  ]| with the \Almanach*de*Gotha\, with the best shops,
120:306,29['  ]| the best hotels, the hours of railway-trains.  He
120:306,30['  ]| could order a dinner almost as well as Mr%*Luce,
120:306,31['  ]| and it was probable that$3$ as his experience accumulated
120:306,32['  ]| he would be a worthy successor to$4$ that$6#2$ gentleman,
120:307,01['  ]| whose rather grim politics he also advocated
120:307,02['  ]| in$4$ a soft and innocent voice.  He had some charming
120:307,03['  ]| rooms in$4$ Paris, decorated with old Spanish altar-lace,
120:307,04['  ]| the envy of his female friends, who$6#1$ declared
120:307,05['  ]| that$3$ 
120:307,05@v   | his chimney-piece was better draped than the
120:307,06@v   | high shoulders of many a duchess.  
120:307,06['  ]| He usually,
120:307,07['  ]| however, spent a part of every winter at Pau, and
120:307,08['  ]| had once passed a couple of months in$4$ the United*States.
120:307,09['  ]| 
120:307,10['  ]| He took a great interest in$4$ Isabel and remembered
120:307,11['  ]| perfectly the walk at Neufcha^tel, when she would
120:307,12['  ]| persist in$4$ going so$5#1$ near the edge.  He seemed to$9$
120:307,13['  ]| recognise this same tendency in$4$ the subversive enquiry
120:307,14['  ]| that$6#1$ I quoted a moment ago, and set himself
120:307,15['  ]| to$9$ answer our heroine's question with greater urbanity
120:307,16['  ]| than it perhaps deserved.  
120:307,16[L  ]| "What does it lead
120:307,17[L  ]| to$4$, Miss*Archer?  Why Paris leads everywhere.
120:307,18[L  ]| You can not go anywhere unless you come here first.
120:307,19[L  ]| Every*one that$6#1$ comes to$4$ Europe has got to$9$ pass
120:307,20[L  ]| through.  You do not mean it in$4$ that$6#2$ sense so$5#1$ much?
120:307,21[L  ]| You mean what good it does you?  Well, how can
120:307,22[L  ]| you penetrate futurity?  How can you tell what lies
120:307,23[L  ]| ahead?  If it is a pleasant road I do not care where
120:307,24[L  ]| it leads.  I like$1$ the road, Miss*Archer; I like$1$ the dear
120:307,25[L  ]| old asphalte.  You can not get tired of it ~~ you can not
120:307,26[L  ]| if you try.  You think you would, but you would not;
120:307,27[L  ]| there is always something new and fresh.  Take the
120:307,28[L  ]| Ho^tel*Drouot, now; they sometimes have three and 
120:307,29[L  ]| four sales a week.  Where can you get such things 
120:307,30[L  ]| as you can here?  In$4$ spite of all they say I maintain
120:307,31[L  ]| they are cheaper too, if you know the right places.
120:307,32[L  ]| I know plenty of places, but I keep them to$4$ myself.
120:308,01[L  ]| I will$1$ tell you, if you like$1$, as a particular favour; only
120:308,02[L  ]| you must not tell any*one else.  Do not you go anywhere
120:308,03[L  ]| without asking me first; I want you to$9$ promise
120:308,04[L  ]| me that$6#2$.  As a general thing avoid the Boulevards;
120:308,05[L  ]| there is very little to$9$ be done on$4$ the Boulevards.
120:308,06[L  ]| Speaking conscientiously ~~ \9sans*blague\ ~~ I do not
120:308,07[L  ]| believe any*one knows Paris better than I.  You and
120:308,08[L  ]| Mrs%*Touchett must come and breakfast with me
120:308,09[L  ]| some day, and I will$1$ show you my things; \9je 9ne 9vous
120:308,10[L  ]| 9dis 9que 9c^a\!  There has been a great deal of talk about
120:308,11[L  ]| London of late; it is the fashion to$9$ cry up$5$ London.
120:308,12[L  ]| But there is nothing in$4$ it ~~ you can not do anything
120:308,13[L  ]| in$4$ London.  No$2$ Louis*Quinze ~~ nothing of the 
120:308,14[L  ]| First Empire; nothing but their eternal Queen*Anne.
120:308,15[L  ]| It is good for$4$ one's bed-room, Queen*Anne ~~ for$4$
120:308,16[L  ]| one's washing-room; but it is not proper for$4$ a \salon\.
120:308,17[L  ]| Do I spend my life at the auctioneer's?"  
120:308,17['  ]| Mr%*Rosier
120:308,18['  ]| pursued in$4$ answer to$4$ another question of Isabel's.
120:308,19[L  ]| "Oh no$7$; I have not the means.  I wish I had.  You
120:308,20[L  ]| think I am a mere trifler; I can tell by$4$ the expression
120:308,21[L  ]| of your face ~~ you have got a wonderfully expressive
120:308,22[L  ]| face.  I hope you do not mind my saying that$6#2$; I
120:308,23[L  ]| mean it as a kind of warning.  You think I ought to$9$
120:308,24[L  ]| do something, and so$3$ do I, so$5#1$ long as you leave it
120:308,25[L  ]| vague.  But when you come to$4$ the point you see
120:308,26[L  ]| you have to$9$ stop.  I can not go home and be a shop-keeper.
120:308,27[L  ]| You think I am very well fitted?  Ah, Miss*Archer, 
120:308,28[L  ]| you overrate me.  I can buy very well, but
120:308,29[L  ]| I can not sell; you should see when I sometimes try
120:308,30[L  ]| to$9$ get rid of my things.  It takes much more ability to$9$
120:308,31[L  ]| make other people buy than to$9$ buy yourself.  When
120:308,32[L  ]| I think how clever they must be, the people who$6#1$
120:309,01[L  ]| make \me\ buy!  Ah no$7$; I could not be a shopkeeper.
120:309,02[L  ]| I can not be a doctor; it is a repulsive business.  I can not
120:309,03[L  ]| be a clergyman; I have not got convictions.  And
120:309,04[L  ]| then I can not pronounce the names right in$4$ the Bible.
120:309,05[L  ]| They are very difficult, in$4$ the Old Testament particularly.
120:309,06[L  ]| I can not be a lawyer; I do not understand
120:309,07[L  ]| ~~ how do you call it?  ~~ the American \9proce=dure\.
120:309,08[L  ]| Is there anything else?  There is nothing for$4$ a gentleman
120:309,09[L  ]| in$4$ America.  I should like$1$ to$9$ be a diplomatist;
120:309,10[L  ]| but American diplomacy ~~ that$6#2$ is not for$4$ gentlemen
120:309,11[L  ]| either.  I am sure if you had seen the last min~"
120:309,12['  ]| Henrietta*Stackpole, who$6#1$ was often with her
120:309,13['  ]| friend when Mr%*Rosier, coming to$9$ pay his compliments
120:309,14['  ]| late in$4$ the afternoon, expressed himself after
120:309,15['  ]| the fashion I have sketched, usually interrupted the
120:309,16['  ]| young man at this point and read him a lecture on$4$
120:309,17['  ]| the duties of the American citizen.  She thought
120:309,18['  ]| him 
120:309,18@i   | most unnatural; he was worse than poor Ralph*Touchett.
120:309,19['  ]| Henrietta, however, was at this time
120:309,20['  ]| more than ever addicted to$4$ fine criticism, for$3$ her conscience
120:309,21['  ]| had been freshly alarmed as regards Isabel.
120:309,22['  ]| She had not congratulated this young lady on$4$ her
120:309,23['  ]| augmentations and begged to$9$ be excused from doing
120:309,24['  ]| so$5#2$.
120:309,25[I  ]| "If Mr%*Touchett had consulted me about leaving
120:309,26[I  ]| you the money," 
120:309,26['  ]| she frankly asserted, 
120:309,26[I  ]| "I would have
120:309,27[I  ]| said to$4$ him ""Never!"""
120:309,28[A  ]| "I see," 
120:309,28['  ]| Isabel had answered.  
120:309,28[A  ]| "You think it will$1$
120:309,29[A  ]| prove a curse in$4$ disguise.  Perhaps it will$1$."
120:309,30[I  ]| "Leave it to$4$ some*one you care less for$4$ ~~ that$6#2$ is
120:309,31[I  ]| what I should have said."
120:309,32[A  ]| "To$4$ yourself for$4$ instance?" 
120:309,32['  ]| Isabel suggested
120:310,01['  ]| jocosely.  And then, 
120:310,01[A  ]| "Do you really believe it will$1$
120:310,02[A  ]| ruin me?" 
120:310,02['  ]| she asked in$4$ quite another tone.
120:310,03[I  ]| "I hope it will$1$ not ruin you; but it will$1$ certainly
120:310,04[I  ]| confirm your dangerous tendencies."
120:310,05[A  ]| "Do you mean the love of luxury ~~ of extravagance?"
120:310,06[A  ]| 
120:310,07[I  ]| "No$7$, no$7$," 
120:310,07['  ]| said Henrietta; 
120:310,07[I  ]| "I mean your exposure 
120:310,08[I  ]| on$4$ the moral side.  I approve of luxury; I 
120:310,09[I  ]| think we ought to$9$ be as elegant as possible.  Look
120:310,10[I  ]| at the luxury of our western cities; I have seen nothing
120:310,11[I  ]| over here to$9$ compare with it.  I hope you will$1$ never
120:310,12[I  ]| become grossly sensual; but I am not afraid of that$6#2$.
120:310,13[I  ]| The peril for$4$ you is that$3$ you live too much in$4$ the 
120:310,14[I  ]| world of your own dreams.  You are not enough in$4$ 
120:310,15[I  ]| contact with reality ~~ with the toiling, striving,
120:310,16[I  ]| suffering, I may even say sinning, world that$6#1$ surrounds 
120:310,17[I  ]| you.  You are too fastidious; you have too
120:310,18[I  ]| many graceful illusions.  Your newly-acquired
120:310,19[I  ]| thousands will$1$ shut you up$5$ more and more to$4$ the
120:310,20[I  ]| society of a few selfish and heartless people who$6#1$
120:310,21[I  ]| will$1$ be interested in$4$ keeping them up$5$."
120:310,22['  ]| Isabel's eyes expanded as she gazed at this lurid
120:310,23['  ]| scene.  
120:310,23[A  ]| "What are my illusions?" 
120:310,23['  ]| she asked.  
120:310,23[A  ]| "I try
120:310,24[A  ]| so$5#1$ hard not to$9$ have any."
120:310,25[I  ]| "Well," 
120:310,25['  ]| said Henrietta, 
120:310,25[I  ]| "you think you can lead
120:310,26[I  ]| a romantic life, that$3$ you can live by$4$ pleasing yourself
120:310,27[I  ]| and pleasing others.  You will$1$ find you are mistaken.
120:310,28[I  ]| Whatever life you lead you must put your soul in$4$ it
120:310,29[I  ]| ~~ to$9$ make any sort of success of it; and from the 
120:310,30[I  ]| moment you do that$6#2$ it ceases to$9$ be romance, I 
120:310,31[I  ]| assure you: it becomes grim reality!  And you can not
120:310,32[I  ]| always please yourself; you must sometimes please
120:311,01[I  ]| other people.  That$6#2$, I admit, you are very ready to$9$ do;
120:311,02[I  ]| but there is another thing that$6#1$ is still more important
120:311,03[I  ]| ~~ you must often \displease\ others.  You must
120:311,04[I  ]| always be ready for$4$ that$6#2$ ~~ you must never shrink
120:311,05[I  ]| from it.  That$6#2$ does not suit you at all ~~ you are too
120:311,06[I  ]| fond of admiration, you like$1$ to$9$ be thought well of.
120:311,07[I  ]| You think we can escape disagreeable duties by$4$
120:311,08[I  ]| taking romantic views ~~ that$6#2$ is your great illusion,
120:311,09[I  ]| my dear.  But we can not.  You must be prepared
120:311,10[I  ]| on$4$ many occasions in$4$ life to$9$ please no*one at
120:311,11[I  ]| all ~~ not even yourself."
120:311,12['  ]| Isabel shook her head sadly; she looked troubled
120:311,13['  ]| and frightened.  
120:311,13[A  ]| "This, for$4$ you, Henrietta," 
120:311,13['  ]| she
120:311,14['  ]| said, 
120:311,14[A  ]| "must be one of those occasions!"
120:311,15['  ]| It was certainly true that$3$ Miss*Stackpole, during
120:311,16['  ]| her visit to$4$ Paris, which$6#1$ had been professionally
120:311,17['  ]| more remunerative than her English sojourn, had
120:311,18['  ]| not been living in$4$ the world of dreams.  Mr%*Bantling,
120:311,19['  ]| who$6#1$ had now returned to$4$ England, was her
120:311,20['  ]| companion for$4$ the first four weeks of her stay; and
120:311,21['  ]| about Mr%*Bantling there was nothing dreamy.
120:311,22['  ]| Isabel learned from her friend that$3$ the two had led
120:311,23['  ]| a life of great personal intimacy and that$3$ this had
120:311,24['  ]| been a peculiar advantage to$4$ Henrietta, owing to$4$
120:311,25['  ]| the gentleman's remarkable knowledge of Paris.
120:311,26['  ]| He had explained everything, shown her everything,
120:311,27['  ]| been her constant guide and interpreter.  They had
120:311,28['  ]| breakfasted together, dined together, gone to$4$ the 
120:311,29['  ]| theatre together, supped together, really in$4$ a manner 
120:311,30['  ]| quite lived together.  
120:311,30@i   | He was a true friend,
120:311,31['  ]| Henrietta more than once assured our heroine; 
120:311,31@i   | and
120:311,32@i   | she had never supposed that$3$ she could like$1$ any
120:312,01@i   | Englishman so$5#1$ well.  
120:312,01['  ]| Isabel could not have told you 
120:312,02['  ]| why, but she found something that$6#1$ ministered to$4$
120:312,03['  ]| mirth in$4$ the alliance the correspondent of the \Interviewer\
120:312,04['  ]| had struck with Lady*Pensil's brother; her
120:312,05['  ]| amusement moreover subsisted in$4$ face of the fact
120:312,06['  ]| that$3$ she thought it a credit to$4$ each of them.  Isabel
120:312,07['  ]| could not rid herself of a suspicion that$3$ they were
120:312,08['  ]| playing somehow at cross-purposes ~~ that$3$ the simplicity 
120:312,09['  ]| of each had been entrapped.  But this simplicity
120:312,10['  ]| was on$4$ either side none the less honourable.
120:312,11['  ]| It was as graceful on$4$ Henrietta's part to believe
120:312,12['  ]| that$3$ Mr%*Bantling took an interest in$4$ the diffusion of
120:312,13['  ]| lively journalism and in$4$ consolidating the position of 
120:312,14['  ]| lady-correspondents as it was on$4$ the part of his companion
120:312,15['  ]| to$9$ suppose that$3$ the cause of the \Interviewer\ ~~
120:312,16['  ]| a periodical of which$6#1$ he never formed a very definite
120:312,17['  ]| conception ~~ was, if subtly analysed (a task to$4$ which$6#1$ 
120:312,18['  ]| Mr%*Bantling felt himself quite equal), but the cause
120:312,19['  ]| of Miss Stackpole's need of demonstrative affection.
120:312,20['  ]| Each of these groping celibates supplied at any rate
120:312,21['  ]| a want of which$6#1$ the other was impatiently conscious.
120:312,22['  ]| Mr%*Bantling, who$6#1$ was of rather a slow and a discursive
120:312,23['  ]| habit, relished a prompt, keen, positive
120:312,24['  ]| woman, who$6#1$ charmed him by$4$ the influence of a 
120:312,25['  ]| shining, challenging eye and a kind of bandbox
120:312,26['  ]| freshness, and who$6#1$ kindled a perception of raciness
120:312,27['  ]| in$4$ a mind to$4$ which$6#1$ the usual fare of life seemed unsalted.
120:312,28['  ]| Henrietta, on$4$ the other hand, enjoyed the 
120:312,29['  ]| society of a gentleman who$6#1$ appeared somehow, in$4$ 
120:312,30['  ]| his way, made, by$4$ expensive, roundabout, almost 
120:312,31['  ]| "quaint" processes, for$4$ her use, and whose leisured
120:312,32['  ]| state, though generally indefensible, was a decided
120:313,01['  ]| boon to$4$ a breathless mate, and who$6#1$ was furnished
120:313,02['  ]| with an easy, traditional, though by$4$ no$2$ means exhaustive,
120:313,03['  ]| answer to$4$ almost any social or practical
120:313,04['  ]| question that$6#1$ could come up$5$.  She often found Mr%*Bantling's
120:313,05['  ]| answers very convenient, and in$4$ the press
120:313,06['  ]| of catching the American post would largely and
120:313,07['  ]| showily address them to$4$ publicity.  It was to$9$ be feared
120:313,08['  ]| that$3$ she was indeed drifting toward those abysses
120:313,09['  ]| of sophistication as to$4$ which$6#1$ Isabel, wishing for$4$ a 
120:313,10['  ]| good-humoured retort, had warned her.  There might
120:313,11['  ]| be danger in$4$ store for$4$ Isabel; but it was scarcely
120:313,12['  ]| to$9$ be hoped that$3$ Miss*Stackpole, on$4$ her side, would
120:313,13['  ]| find permanent rest in$4$ any adoption of the views
120:313,14['  ]| of a class pledged to$4$ all the old abuses.  Isabel continued
120:313,15['  ]| to$9$ warn her good-humouredly; Lady*Pensil's
120:313,16['  ]| obliging brother was sometimes, on$4$ our heroine's
120:313,17['  ]| lips, an object of irreverent and facetious allusion.
120:313,18['  ]| Nothing, however, could exceed Henrietta's amiability
120:313,19['  ]| on$4$ this point; she used to$9$ abound in$4$ the sense
120:313,20['  ]| of Isabel's irony and to$9$ enumerate with elation the 
120:313,21['  ]| hours she had spent with this perfect man of the 
120:313,22['  ]| world ~~ a term that$6#1$ had ceased to$9$ make with her, as
120:313,23['  ]| previously, for$4$ opprobrium.  Then, a few moments
120:313,24['  ]| later, she would forget that$3$ they had been talking
120:313,25['  ]| jocosely and would mention with impulsive earnestness
120:313,26['  ]| some expedition she had enjoyed in$4$ his company.
120:313,27['  ]| She would say: 
120:313,27[I  ]| "Oh, I know all about Versailles;
120:313,28[I  ]| I went there with Mr%*Bantling.  I was
120:313,29[I  ]| bound to$9$ see it thoroughly ~~ I warned him when
120:313,30[I  ]| we went out there that$3$ I was thorough: so$3$ we spent
120:313,31[I  ]| three days at the hotel and wandered all over the 
120:313,32[I  ]| place.  It was lovely weather ~~ a kind of Indian
120:314,01[I  ]| summer, only not so$5#1$ good.  We just lived in$4$ that$6#2$ 
120:314,02[I  ]| park.  Oh yes; you can not tell me anything about
120:314,03[I  ]| Versailles."  
120:314,03['  ]| Henrietta appeared to$9$ have made arrangements
120:314,04['  ]| to$9$ meet her gallant friend during the 
120:314,05['  ]| spring in$4$ Italy.
121:315,01['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett, before arriving in$4$ Paris, had fixed
121:315,02['  ]| the day for$4$ her departure and by$4$ the middle of February
121:315,03['  ]| had begun to$9$ travel southward.  She interrupted
121:315,04['  ]| her journey to$9$ pay a visit to$4$ her son, who$6#1$ at San*Remo,
121:315,05['  ]| on$4$ the Italian shore of the Mediterranean, had been 
121:315,06['  ]| spending a dull, bright winter beneath a slow-moving
121:315,07['  ]| white umbrella.  Isabel went with her aunt as a matter
121:315,08['  ]| of course, though Mrs%*Touchett, with homely,
121:315,09['  ]| customary logic, had laid before her a pair of alternatives.
121:315,10['  ]| 
121:315,11[G  ]| "Now, of course, you are completely your own mistress
121:315,12[G  ]| and are as free as the bird on$4$ the bough.  I do not
121:315,13[G  ]| mean you were not so$5#2$ before, but you are at present on$4$ 
121:315,14[G  ]| a different footing ~~ property erects a kind of barrier.
121:315,15[G  ]| You can do a great many things if you are rich which$6#1$
121:315,16[G  ]| would be severely criticised if you were poor.  You
121:315,17[G  ]| can go and come, you can travel alone, you can have
121:315,18[G  ]| your own establishment: I mean of course if you will$1$
121:315,19[G  ]| take a companion ~~ some decayed gentlewoman,
121:315,20[G  ]| with a darned cashmere and dyed hair, who$6#1$ paints
121:315,21[G  ]| on$4$ velvet.  You do not think you would like$1$ that$6#2$?  Of course
121:315,22[G  ]| you can do as you please; I only want you to$9$ understand
121:315,23[G  ]| how much you are at liberty.  You might take
121:315,24[G  ]| Miss*Stackpole as your \9dame*de*compagnie\; she would
121:315,25[G  ]| keep people off very well.  I think, however, that$3$ it is
121:315,26[G  ]| a great deal better you should remain with me, in$4$ 
121:315,27[G  ]| spite of there being no$2$ obligation.  It is better for$4$
121:316,01[G  ]| several reasons, quite apart from your liking it.  I
121:316,02[G  ]| should not think you would like$1$ it, but I recommend you
121:316,03[G  ]| to$9$ make the sacrifice.  Of course whatever novelty
121:316,04[G  ]| there may have been at first in$4$ my society has quite
121:316,05[G  ]| passed away, and you see me as I am ~~ a dull, obstinate, 
121:316,06[G  ]| narrow-minded old woman."
121:316,07[A  ]| "I do not think you are at all dull," 
121:316,07['  ]| Isabel had replied
121:316,08['  ]| to$4$ this.
121:316,09[G  ]| "But you do think I am obstinate and narrow-minded?
121:316,10[G  ]| I told you so$5#2$!"  
121:316,10['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett with
121:316,11['  ]| much elation at being justified.
121:316,12['  ]| Isabel remained for$4$ the present with her aunt,
121:316,13['  ]| because, in$4$ spite of eccentric impulses, she had a great
121:316,14['  ]| regard for$4$ what was usually deemed decent, and a
121:316,15['  ]| young gentlewoman without visible relations had
121:316,16['  ]| always struck her as a flower without foliage.  It was
121:316,17['  ]| true that$3$ 
121:316,17@a   | Mrs%*Touchett's conversation had never
121:316,18@a   | again appeared so$5#1$ brilliant as that$6#2$ first afternoon in$4$
121:316,19@a   | Albany, when she sat in$4$ her damp waterproof and
121:316,20@a   | sketched the opportunities that$6#1$ Europe would offer
121:316,21@a   | to$4$ a young person of taste.  
121:316,21['  ]| This, however, was in$4$
121:316,22['  ]| a great measure the girl's own fault; she had got a
121:316,23['  ]| glimpse of her aunt's experience, and her imagination
121:316,24['  ]| constantly anticipated the judgements and emotions
121:316,25['  ]| of a woman who$6#1$ had very little of the same faculty.
121:316,26['  ]| Apart from this, Mrs%*Touchett had a great merit; 
121:316,27@a   | she was as honest as a pair of compasses.  There was
121:316,28@a   | a comfort in$4$ her stiffness and firmness; you knew
121:316,29@a   | exactly where to$9$ find her and were never liable to$4$
121:316,30@a   | chance encounters and concussions.  On$4$ her own
121:316,31@a   | ground she was perfectly present, but was never over-inquisitive
121:316,32@a   | as regards the territory of her neighbour.
121:317,01['  ]| Isabel came at last to$9$ have a kind of undemonstrable
121:317,02['  ]| pity for$4$ her; there seemed something so$5#1$ dreary in$4$ the 
121:317,03['  ]| condition of a person whose nature had, as it were,
121:317,04['  ]| so$5#1$ little surface ~~ offered so$5#1$ limited a face to$4$ the accretions 
121:317,05['  ]| of human contact.  Nothing tender, nothing
121:317,06['  ]| sympathetic, had ever had a chance to$9$ fasten upon$4$ it
121:317,07['  ]| ~~ no$2$ wind-sown blossom, no$2$ familiar softening moss.
121:317,08['  ]| Her offered, her passive extent, in$4$ other words, was
121:317,09['  ]| about that$6#2$ of a knife-edge.  Isabel had reason to$9$ believe
121:317,10['  ]| none the less that$3$ 
121:317:10@a   | as she advanced in$4$ life she
121:317,11@a   | made more of those concessions to$4$ the sense of something
121:317,12@a   | obscurely distinct from convenience ~~ more of
121:317,13@a   | them than she independently exacted.  She was learning
121:317,14@a   | to$9$ sacrifice consistency to$4$ considerations of that$6#2$
121:317,15@a   | inferior order for$4$ which$6#1$ the excuse must be found in$4$
121:317,16@a   | the particular case.  
121:317,16['  ]| It was not to$4$ the credit of her
121:317,17['  ]| absolute rectitude that$3$ she should have gone the longest
121:317,18['  ]| way round to$4$ Florence in$4$ order to$9$ spend a few
121:317,19['  ]| weeks with her invalid son; since in$4$ former years it
121:317,20['  ]| had been one of her most definite convictions that$3$
121:317,21@g   | when Ralph wished to$9$ see her he was at liberty to$9$
121:317,22@g   | remember that$3$ Palazzo*Crescentini contained a large 
121:317,23@g   | apartment known as the quarter of the signorino.
121:317,24[A  ]| "I want to$9$ ask you something," 
121:317,24['  ]| Isabel said to$4$ this
121:317,25['  ]| young man the day after her arrival at San*Remo ~~
121:317,26[A  ]| "something I have thought more than once of asking
121:317,27[A  ]| you by$4$ letter, but that$3$ I have hesitated on$4$ the whole to$9$
121:317,28[A  ]| write about.  Face to$4$ face, nevertheless, my question
121:317,29[A  ]| seems easy enough.  Did you know your father intended
121:317,30[A  ]| to$9$ leave me so$5#1$ much money?"
121:317,31['  ]| Ralph stretched his legs a little further than usual
121:317,32['  ]| and gazed a little more fixedly at the Mediterranean.
121:318,01[B  ]| "What does it matter, my dear Isabel, whether I 
121:318,02[B  ]| knew?  My father was very obstinate."
121:318,03[A  ]| "So$3$," 
121:318,03['  ]| said the girl, 
121:318,03[A  ]| "you did know."
121:318,04[B  ]| "Yes; he told me.  We even talked it over a little."
121:318,05[A  ]| "What did he do it for$4$?" 
121:318,05['  ]| asked Isabel abruptly.
121:318,06[B  ]| "Why, as a kind of compliment."
121:318,07[A  ]| "A compliment on$4$ what?"
121:318,08[B  ]| "On$4$ your so$5#1$ beautifully existing."
121:318,09[A  ]| "He liked me too much," 
121:318,09['  ]| she presently declared.
121:318,10[B  ]| "That$6#2$ is a way we all have."
121:318,11[A  ]| "If I believed that$6#2$ I should be very unhappy.  Fortunately
121:318,12[A  ]| I do not believe it.  I want to$9$ be treated with
121:318,13[A  ]| justice; I want nothing but that$6#2$."
121:318,14[B  ]| "Very good.  But you must remember that$3$ justice
121:318,15[B  ]| to$4$ a lovely being is after all a florid sort of sentiment."
121:318,16[B  ]| 
121:318,17[A  ]| "I am not a lovely being.  How can you say that$6#2$,
121:318,18[A  ]| at the very moment when I am asking such odious
121:318,19[A  ]| questions?  I must seem to$4$ you delicate!"
121:318,20[B  ]| "You seem to$4$ me troubled," 
121:318,20['  ]| said Ralph.
121:318,21[A  ]| "I am troubled."
121:318,22[B  ]| "About what?"
121:318,23['  ]| For$4$ a moment she answered nothing; then she 
121:318,24['  ]| broke out: 
121:318,24[A  ]| "Do you think it good for$4$ me suddenly
121:318,25[A  ]| to$9$ be made so$5#1$ rich?  Henrietta does not."
121:318,26[B  ]| "Oh, hang Henrietta!" 
121:318,26['  ]| said Ralph coarsely.  
121:318,26[B  ]| "If
121:318,27[B  ]| you ask \me\ I am delighted at it."
121:318,28[A  ]| "Is that$6#2$ why your father did it ~~ for$4$ your amusement?"
121:318,29[A  ]| 
121:318,30[B  ]| "I differ with Miss*Stackpole," 
121:318,30['  ]| Ralph went on$5$
121:318,31['  ]| more gravely.  
121:318,31[B  ]| "I think it very good for$4$ you to$9$ have
121:318,32[B  ]| means."
121:319,01['  ]| Isabel looked at him with serious eyes.  
121:319,01[A  ]| "I wonder
121:319,02[A  ]| whether you know what is good for$4$ me ~~ or whether
121:319,03[A  ]| you care."
121:319,04[B  ]| "If I know depend upon$4$ it I care.  Shall I tell you
121:319,05[B  ]| what it is?  Not to$9$ torment yourself."
121:319,06[A  ]| "Not to$9$ torment you, I suppose you mean."
121:319,07[B  ]| "You can not do that$6#2$; I am proof.  Take things more
121:319,08[B  ]| easily.  Do not ask yourself so$5#1$ much whether this or
121:319,09[B  ]| that$6#2$ is good for$4$ you.  Do not question your conscience
121:319,10[B  ]| so$5#1$ much ~~ it will$1$ get out of tune like$4$ a strummed
121:319,11[B  ]| piano.  Keep it for$4$ great occasions.  Do not try so$5#1$ much 
121:319,12[B  ]| to$9$ form your character ~~ it is like$4$ trying to$9$ pull open
121:319,13[B  ]| a tight, tender young rose.  Live as you like$1$ best, and 
121:319,14[B  ]| your character will$1$ take care of itself.  Most things
121:319,15[B  ]| are good for$4$ you; the exceptions are very rare, and
121:319,16[B  ]| a comfortable income is not one of them."  
121:319,16['  ]| Ralph
121:319,17['  ]| paused, smiling; Isabel had listened quickly.  
121:319,17[B  ]| "You have
121:319,18[B  ]| too much power of thought ~~ above all too much
121:319,19[B  ]| conscience," 
121:319,19['  ]| Ralph added.  
121:319,19[B  ]| "It is out of all reason,
121:319,20[B  ]| the number of things you think wrong.  Put back
121:319,21[B  ]| your watch.  Diet your fever.  Spread your wings; rise
121:319,22[B  ]| above the ground.  It is never wrong to$9$ do that$6#2$."
121:319,23['  ]| She had listened eagerly, as I say; and it was her
121:319,24['  ]| nature to$9$ understand quickly.  
121:319,24[A  ]| "I wonder if you appreciate
121:319,25[A  ]| what you say.  If you do, you take a great 
121:319,26[A  ]| responsibility."
121:319,27[B  ]| "You frighten me a little, but I think I am right,"
121:319,28['  ]| said Ralph, persisting in$4$ cheer.
121:319,29[A  ]| "All the same what you say is very true," 
121:319,29['  ]| Isabel
121:319,30['  ]| pursued.  
121:319,30[A  ]| "You could say nothing more true.  I am 
121:319,31[A  ]| absorbed in$4$ myself ~~ I look at life too much as a doctor's
121:319,32[A  ]| prescription.  Why indeed should we perpetually
121:320,01[A  ]| be thinking whether things are good for$4$ us, as if we
121:320,02[A  ]| were patients lying in$4$ a hospital?  Why should I be
121:320,03[A  ]| so$5#1$ afraid of not doing right?  As if it mattered to$4$ the 
121:320,04[A  ]| world whether I do right or wrong!"
121:320,05[B  ]| "You are a capital person to$9$ advise," 
121:320,05['  ]| said Ralph;
121:320,06[B  ]| "you take the wind out of \my\ sails!"
121:320,07['  ]| She looked at him as if she had not heard him ~~
121:320,08['  ]| though she was following out the train of reflexion
121:320,09['  ]| which$6#1$ he himself had kindled.  
121:320,09[A  ]| "I try to$9$ care more
121:320,10[A  ]| about the world than about myself ~~ but I always
121:320,11[A  ]| come back to$4$ myself.  It is because I am afraid."  
121:320,11['  ]| She
121:320,12['  ]| stopped; her voice had trembled a little.  
121:320,12[A  ]| "Yes, I am
121:320,13[A  ]| afraid; I can not tell you.  A large fortune means freedom,
121:320,14[A  ]| and I am afraid of that$6#2$.  It is such a fine thing,
121:320,15[A  ]| and one should make such a good use of it.  If one
121:320,16[A  ]| should not one would be ashamed.  And one must
121:320,17[A  ]| keep thinking; it is a constant effort.  I am not sure
121:320,18[A  ]| it is not a greater happiness to$9$ be powerless."
121:320,19[B  ]| "For$4$ weak people I have no$2$ doubt it is a greater
121:320,20[B  ]| happiness.  For$4$ weak people the effort not to$9$ be contemptible
121:320,21[B  ]| must be great."
121:320,22[A  ]| "And how do you know I am not weak?"  
121:320,22['  ]| Isabel
121:320,23['  ]| asked.
121:320,24[B  ]| "Ah," 
121:320,24['  ]| Ralph answered with a flush that$6#1$ the girl
121:320,25['  ]| noticed, 
121:320,25[B  ]| "if you are I am awfully sold!"
121:320,26['  ]| The charm of the Mediterranean coast only deepened
121:320,27['  ]| for$4$ our heroine on$4$ acquaintance, for$3$ it was the
121:320,28['  ]| threshold of Italy, the gate of admirations.  Italy, as
121:320,29['  ]| yet imperfectly seen and felt, stretched before her
121:320,30['  ]| as a land of promise, a land in$4$ which$6#1$ a love of the 
121:320,31['  ]| beautiful might be comforted by$4$ endless knowledge.
121:320,32['  ]| Whenever she strolled upon$4$ the shore with her cousin
121:321,01['  ]| ~~ and she was the companion of his daily walk ~~
121:321,02['  ]| she looked across the sea, with longing eyes, to$4$ where 
121:321,03['  ]| she knew that$3$ Genoa lay.  She was glad to$9$ pause,
121:321,04['  ]| however, on$4$ the edge of this larger adventure; there
121:321,05['  ]| was such a thrill even in$4$ the preliminary hovering.
121:321,06['  ]| It affected her moreover as a peaceful interlude, as a
121:321,07['  ]| hush of the drum and fife in$4$ a career which$6#1$ she had
121:321,08['  ]| little warrant as yet for$4$ regarding as agitated, but
121:321,09['  ]| which$6#1$ nevertheless she was constantly picturing to$4$
121:321,10['  ]| herself by$4$ the light of her hopes, her fears, her fancies,
121:321,11['  ]| her ambitions, her predilections, and which$6#1$ reflected
121:321,12['  ]| these subjective accidents in$4$ a manner sufficiently
121:321,13['  ]| dramatic.  Madame*Merle had predicted to$4$ Mrs%*Touchett
121:321,14['  ]| that$3$ 
121:321,14@h   | after their young friend had put her
121:321,15@h   | hand into her pocket half a dozen times she would
121:321,16@h   | be reconciled to$4$ the idea that$3$ it had been filled by$4$
121:321,17@h   | a munificent uncle; 
121:321,17['  ]| and the event justified, as it had
121:321,18['  ]| so$5#1$ often justified before, that$6#2$ lady's perspicacity.
121:321,19['  ]| Ralph*Touchett had praised his cousin for$4$ being
121:321,20['  ]| morally inflammable, that$3$ is for$4$ being quick to$9$ take
121:321,21['  ]| a hint that$6#1$ was meant as good advice.  His advice
121:321,22['  ]| had perhaps helped the matter; she had at any rate
121:321,23['  ]| before leaving San Remo grown used to$4$ feeling rich.
121:321,24['  ]| The consciousness in$4$ question found a proper place
121:321,25['  ]| in$4$ rather a dense little group of ideas that$6#1$ she had
121:321,26['  ]| about herself, and often it was by$4$ no$2$ means the least
121:321,27['  ]| agreeable.  It took perpetually for$4$ granted a thousand
121:321,28['  ]| good intentions.  She lost herself in$4$ a maze of visions;
121:321,29['  ]| the fine things to$9$ be done by$4$ a rich, independent,
121:321,30['  ]| generous girl who$6#1$ took a large human view of occasions
121:321,31['  ]| and obligations were sublime in$4$ the mass.  Her
121:321,32['  ]| fortune therefore became to$4$ her mind a part of her
121:322,01['  ]| better self; it gave her importance, gave her even, to$4$ 
121:322,02['  ]| her own imagination, a certain ideal beauty.  What
121:322,03['  ]| it did for$4$ her in$4$ the imagination of others is another
121:322,04['  ]| affair, and on$4$ this point we must also touch in$4$ time.
121:322,05['  ]| The visions I have just spoken of were mixed with 
121:322,06['  ]| other debates.  Isabel liked better to$9$ think of the 
121:322,07['  ]| future than of the past; but at times, as she listened
121:322,08['  ]| to$4$ the murmur of the Mediterranean waves, her
121:322,09['  ]| glance took a backward flight.  It rested upon$4$ two 
121:322,10['  ]| figures which$6#1$, in$4$ spite of increasing distance, were still
121:322,11['  ]| sufficiently salient; they were recognisable without
121:322,12['  ]| difficulty as those of Caspar*Goodwood and Lord*Warburton.
121:322,13['  ]| It was strange how quickly these images
121:322,14['  ]| of energy had fallen into the background of our young
121:322,15['  ]| lady's life.  It was in$4$ her disposition at all times to$9$
121:322,16['  ]| lose faith in$4$ the reality of absent things; she could
121:322,17['  ]| summon back her faith, in$4$ case of need, with an
121:322,18['  ]| effort, but the effort was often painful even when the 
121:322,19['  ]| reality had been pleasant.  The past was apt to$9$ look
121:322,20['  ]| dead and its revival rather to$9$ show the livid light of
121:322,21['  ]| a judgement-day.  The girl moreover was not prone
121:322,22['  ]| to$9$ take for$4$ granted that$3$ she herself lived in$4$ the mind
121:322,23['  ]| of others ~~ she had not the fatuity to$9$ believe she left
121:322,24['  ]| indelible traces.  She was capable of being wounded
121:322,25['  ]| by$4$ the discovery that$3$ she had been forgotten; but
121:322,26['  ]| of all liberties the one she herself found sweetest was
121:322,27['  ]| the liberty to$9$ forget.  She had not given her last shilling,
121:322,28['  ]| sentimentally speaking, either to$4$ Caspar*Goodwood 
121:322,29['  ]| or to$4$ Lord*Warburton, and yet could not but feel
121:322,30['  ]| them appreciably in$4$ debt to$4$ her.  She had of course
121:322,31['  ]| reminded herself that$3$ 
121:322,31@a   | she was to$9$ hear from Mr%*Goodwood
121:322,32@a   | again; but this was not to$9$ be for$4$ another year 
121:323,01@a   | and a half, and in$4$ that$6#2$ time a great many things might
121:323,02@a   | happen.  
121:323,02['  ]| She had indeed failed to$9$ say to$4$ herself that$3$
121:323,03['  ]| her American suitor might find some other girl more
121:323,04['  ]| comfortable to$9$ woo; because, though it was certain
121:323,05['  ]| many other girls would prove so$5#2$, she had not the 
121:323,06['  ]| smallest belief that$3$ this merit would attract him.  But
121:323,07['  ]| she reflected that$3$ 
121:323,07@a   | she herself might know the humiliation
121:323,08@a   | of change, might really, for$4$ that$6#2$ matter, come
121:323,09@a   | to$4$ the end of the things that$6#1$ were not Caspar (even
121:323,10@a   | though there appeared so$5#1$ many of them), 
121:323,10['  ]| and find
121:323,11['  ]| rest in$4$ those very elements of his presence which$6#1$
121:323,12['  ]| struck her now as impediments to$4$ the finer respiration.
121:323,13['  ]| It was conceivable that$3$ these impediments should
121:323,14['  ]| some day prove a sort of a blessing in$4$ disguise ~~ a clear
121:323,15['  ]| and quiet harbour enclosed by$4$ a brave granite breakwater.
121:323,16['  ]| But that$6#2$ day could only come in$4$ its order, and
121:323,17['  ]| she could not wait for$4$ it with folded hands.  That$3$ Lord*Warburton
121:323,18['  ]| should continue to$9$ cherish her image
121:323,19['  ]| seemed to$4$ her more than a noble humility or an enlightened
121:323,20['  ]| pride ought to$9$ wish to$9$ reckon with.  She 
121:323,21['  ]| had so$5#1$ definitely undertaken to$9$ preserve no$2$ record of
121:323,22['  ]| what had passed between them that$3$ a corresponding
121:323,23['  ]| effort on$4$ his own part would be eminently just.  This
121:323,24['  ]| was not, as it may seem, merely a theory tinged with
121:323,25['  ]| sarcasm.  Isabel candidly believed that$3$ 
121:323,25@a   | his lordship
121:323,26@a   | would, 
121:323,26['  ]| in$4$ the usual phrase, 
121:323,26@a   | get over his disappointment.
121:323,27@a   | He had been deeply affected ~~ 
121:323,27['  ]| this she believed, 
121:323,28['  ]| and she was still capable of deriving pleasure
121:323,29['  ]| from the belief; 
121:323,29@a   | but it was absurd that$3$ a man both
121:323,30@a   | so$5#1$ intelligent and so$5#1$ honourably dealt with should
121:323,31@a   | cultivate a scar out of proportion to$4$ any wound.
121:323,32@a   | Englishmen liked moreover to$9$ be comfortable, 
121:323,32['  ]| said
121:324,01['  ]| Isabel, 
121:324,01@a   | and there could be little comfort for$4$ Lord*Warburton, 
121:324,02@a   | in$4$ the long run, in$4$ brooding over a self-sufficient
121:324,03@a   | American girl who$6#1$ had been but a casual
121:324,04@a   | acquaintance.  
121:324,04['  ]| She flattered herself that$3$, 
121:324,04@a   | should she
121:324,05@a   | hear from one day to$4$ another that$3$ he had married
121:324,06@a   | some young woman of his own country who$6#1$ had done
121:324,07@a   | more to$9$ deserve him, she should receive the news
121:324,08@a   | without a pang even of surprise.  It would have proved
121:324,09@a   | that$3$ he believed she was firm ~~ which$6#1$ was what she
121:324,10@a   | wished to$9$ seem to$4$ him.  
121:324,10['  ]| That$6#2$ alone was grateful to$4$
121:324,11['  ]| her pride.
122:325,01['  ]| On$4$ one of the first days of May, some six months
122:325,02['  ]| after old Mr%*Touchett's death, a small group that$6#1$
122:325,03['  ]| might have been described by$4$ a painter as composing 
122:325,04['  ]| well was gathered in$4$ one of the many rooms 
122:325,05['  ]| of an ancient villa crowning an olive-muffled hill
122:325,06['  ]| outside of the Roman gate of Florence.  The villa
122:325,07['  ]| was a long, rather blank-looking structure, with the
122:325,08['  ]| far-projecting roof which$6#1$ Tuscany loves and which$6#1$, 
122:325,09['  ]| on$4$ the hills that$6#1$ encircle Florence, when considered
122:325,10['  ]| from a distance, makes so$5#1$ harmonious a rectangle
122:325,11['  ]| with the straight, dark, definite cypresses that$6#1$ usually
122:325,12['  ]| rise in$4$ groups of three or four beside it.  The
122:325,13['  ]| house had a front upon$4$ a little grassy, empty, rural
122:325,14['  ]| piazza which$6#1$ occupied a part of the hill-top; and 
122:325,15['  ]| this front, pierced with a few windows in$4$ irregular
122:325,16['  ]| relations and furnished with a stone bench lengthily
122:325,17['  ]| adjusted to$4$ the base of the structure and useful as
122:325,18['  ]| a lounging-place to$4$ one or two persons wearing more
122:325,19['  ]| or less of that$6#2$ air of undervalued merit which$6#1$ in$4$ Italy,
122:325,20['  ]| for$4$ some reason or other, always gracefully invests
122:325,21['  ]| any*one who$6#1$ confidently assumes a perfectly passive
122:325,22['  ]| attitude ~~ this antique, solid, weather-worn, yet
122:325,23['  ]| imposing front had a somewhat incommunicative
122:325,24['  ]| character.  It was the mask, not the face of the house.
122:325,25['  ]| It had heavy lids, but no$2$ eyes; the house in$4$ reality
122:325,26['  ]| looked another way ~~ looked off behind, into splendid
122:325,27['  ]| openness and the range of the afternoon light.
122:326,01['  ]| In$4$ that$6#2$ quarter the villa overhung the slope of its
122:326,02['  ]| hill and the long valley of the Arno, hazy with Italian
122:326,03['  ]| colour.  It had a narrow garden, in$4$ the manner of
122:326,04['  ]| a terrace, productive chiefly of tangles of wild roses
122:326,05['  ]| and other old stone benches, mossy and sun-warmed.
122:326,06['  ]| The parapet of the terrace was just the height to$9$
122:326,07['  ]| lean upon$4$, and beneath it the ground declined into
122:326,08['  ]| the vagueness of olive-crops and vineyards.  It is not,
122:326,09['  ]| however, with the outside of the place that$3$ we are
122:326,10['  ]| concerned; on$4$ this bright morning of ripened spring
122:326,11['  ]| its tenants had reason to$9$ prefer the shady side of the 
122:326,12['  ]| wall.  The windows of the ground-floor, as you saw
122:326,13['  ]| them from the piazza, were, in$4$ their noble proportions,
122:326,14['  ]| extremely architectural; but their function seemed less
122:326,15['  ]| to$9$ offer communication with the world than to$9$ defy
122:326,16['  ]| the world to$9$ look in$5$.  They were massively cross-barred,
122:326,17['  ]| and placed at such a height that$3$ curiosity,
122:326,18['  ]| even on$4$ tiptoe, expired before it reached them.  In$4$
122:326,19['  ]| an apartment lighted by$4$ a row of three of these
122:326,20['  ]| jealous apertures ~~ one of the several distinct apartments
122:326,21['  ]| into which$6#1$ the villa was divided and which$6#1$ 
122:326,22['  ]| were mainly occupied by$4$ foreigners of random race
122:326,23['  ]| long resident in$4$ Florence ~~ a gentleman was seated
122:326,24['  ]| in$4$ company with a young girl and two good sisters
122:326,25['  ]| from a religious house.  The room was, however,
122:326,26['  ]| less sombre than our indications may have represented,
122:326,27['  ]| for$3$ it had a wide, high door, which$6#1$ now stood
122:326,28['  ]| open into the tangled garden behind; and the tall
122:326,29['  ]| iron lattices admitted on$4$ occasion more than enough
122:326,30['  ]| of the Italian sunshine.  It was moreover a seat of
122:326,31['  ]| ease, indeed of luxury, telling of arrangements subtly
122:326,32['  ]| studied and refinements frankly proclaimed, and 
122:327,01['  ]| containing a variety of those faded hangings of damask
122:327,02['  ]| and tapestry, those chests and cabinets of carved
122:327,03['  ]| and time-polished oak, those angular specimens
122:327,04['  ]| of pictorial art in$4$ frames as pedantically primitive,
122:327,05['  ]| those perverse-looking relics of mediaeval brass and
122:327,06['  ]| pottery, of which$6#1$ Italy has long been the not quite
122:327,07['  ]| exhausted storehouse.  These things kept terms with
122:327,08['  ]| articles of modern furniture in$4$ which$6#1$ large allowance
122:327,09['  ]| had been made for$4$ a lounging generation; it
122:327,10['  ]| was to$9$ be noticed that$3$ all the chairs were deep and
122:327,11['  ]| well padded and that$3$ much space was occupied
122:327,12['  ]| by$4$ a writing-table of which$6#1$ the ingenious perfection
122:327,13['  ]| bore the stamp of London and the nineteenth century.
122:327,14['  ]| There were books in$4$ profusion and magazines
122:327,15['  ]| and newspapers, and a few small, odd, elaborate
122:327,16['  ]| pictures, chiefly in$4$ water-colour.  One of these productions
122:327,17['  ]| stood on$4$ a drawing-room easel before which$6#1$, 
122:327,18['  ]| at the moment we begin to$9$ be concerned with her,
122:327,19['  ]| the young girl I have mentioned had placed herself.
122:327,20['  ]| She was looking at the picture in$4$ silence.
122:327,21['  ]| Silence ~~ absolute silence ~~ had not fallen upon$4$ 
122:327,22['  ]| her companions; but their talk had an appearance
122:327,23['  ]| of embarrassed continuity.  The two good sisters had
122:327,24['  ]| not settled themselves in$4$ their respective chairs;
122:327,25['  ]| their attitude expressed a final reserve and their
122:327,26['  ]| faces showed the glaze of prudence.  They were
122:327,27['  ]| plain, ample, mild-featured women, with a kind of
122:327,28['  ]| business-like modesty to$4$ which$6#1$ the impersonal aspect
122:327,29['  ]| of their stiffened linen and of the serge that$6#1$
122:327,30['  ]| draped them as if nailed on$4$ frames gave an advantage.
122:327,31['  ]| One of them, a person of a certain age, in$4$ spectacles, 
122:327,32['  ]| with a fresh complexion and a full cheek, had
122:328,01['  ]| a more discriminating manner than her colleague,
122:328,02['  ]| as well as the responsibility of their errand, which$6#1$ 
122:328,03['  ]| apparently related to$4$ the young girl.  This object
122:328,04['  ]| of interest wore her hat ~~ an ornament of extreme
122:328,05['  ]| simplicity and not at variance with her plain muslin
122:328,06['  ]| gown, too short for$4$ her years, though it must already
122:328,07['  ]| have been "let out."  The gentleman who$6#1$ might 
122:328,08['  ]| have been supposed to$9$ be entertaining the two nuns
122:328,09['  ]| was perhaps conscious of the difficulties of his function,
122:328,10['  ]| it being in$4$ its way as arduous to$9$ converse with
122:328,11['  ]| the very meek as with the very mighty.  At the same
122:328,12['  ]| time he was clearly much occupied with their quiet
122:328,13['  ]| charge, and while she turned her back to$4$ him his
122:328,14['  ]| eyes rested gravely on$4$ her slim, small figure.  He
122:328,15['  ]| was a man of forty, with a high but well-shaped head,
122:328,16['  ]| on$4$ which$6#1$ the hair, still dense, but prematurely grizzled,
122:328,17['  ]| had been cropped close.  He had a fine, narrow
122:328,18['  ]| extremely modelled and composed face, of which$6#1$
122:328,19['  ]| the only fault was just this effect of its running a
122:328,20['  ]| trifle too much to$4$ points; an appearance to$4$ which$6#1$
122:328,21['  ]| the shape of the beard contributed not a little.  This
122:328,22['  ]| beard, cut in$4$ the manner of the portraits of the sixteenth
122:328,23['  ]| century and surmounted by$4$ a fair moustache,
122:328,24['  ]| of which$6#1$ the ends had a romantic upward flourish,
122:328,25['  ]| gave its wearer a foreign, traditionary look and suggested 
122:328,26['  ]| that$3$ he was a gentleman who$6#1$ studied style.
122:328,27['  ]| His conscious, curious eyes, however, eyes at once
122:328,28['  ]| vague and penetrating, intelligent and hard, expressive
122:328,29['  ]| of the observer as well as of the dreamer,
122:328,30['  ]| would have assured you that$3$ he studied it only
122:328,31['  ]| within well-chosen limits, and that$3$ in$4$ so$5#1$ far as he
122:328,32['  ]| sought it he found it.  You would have been much 
122:329,01['  ]| at a loss to$9$ determine his original clime and country;
122:329,02['  ]| he had none of the superficial signs that$3$ usually
122:329,03['  ]| render the answer to$4$ this question an insipidly
122:329,04['  ]| easy one.  If he had English blood in$4$ his veins it
122:329,05['  ]| had probably received some French or Italian commixture;
122:329,06['  ]| but he suggested, fine gold coin as he was,
122:329,07['  ]| no$2$ stamp nor emblem of the common mintage that$6#1$ 
122:329,08['  ]| provides for$4$ general circulation; he was the elegant
122:329,09['  ]| complicated medal struck off for$4$ a special occasion.
122:329,10['  ]| He had a light, lean, rather languid-looking figure,
122:329,11['  ]| and was apparently neither tall nor short.  He was
122:329,12['  ]| dressed as a man dresses who$6#1$ takes little other trouble
122:329,13['  ]| about it than to$9$ have no$2$ vulgar things.
122:329,14[C  ]| "Well, my dear, what do you think of it?" 
122:329,16['  ]| he 
122:329,15['  ]| asked of the young girl.  He used the Italian tongue,
122:329,16['  ]| and used it with perfect ease; but this would not
122:329,17['  ]| have convinced you he was Italian.
122:329,18['  ]| The child turned her head earnestly to$4$ one side
122:329,19['  ]| and the other.  
122:329,19[K  ]| "It is very pretty, papa.  Did you
122:329,20[K  ]| make it yourself?"
122:329,21[C  ]| "Certainly I made it.  Do not you think I am clever?"
122:329,22[K  ]| "Yes, papa, very clever; I also have learned to$9$ 
122:329,23[K  ]| make pictures."  
122:329,23['  ]| And she turned round and showed
122:329,24['  ]| a small, fair face painted with a fixed and intensely 
122:329,25['  ]| sweet smile.
122:329,26[C  ]| "You should have brought me a specimen of your 
122:329,27[C  ]| powers."
122:329,28[K  ]| "I have brought a great many; they are in$4$ my trunk."
122:329,29[V  ]| "She draws very ~~ very carefully," 
122:329,29['  ]| the elder of
122:329,30['  ]| the nuns remarked, speaking in$4$ French.
122:329,31[C  ]| "I am glad to$9$ hear it.  Is it you who$6#1$ have instructed
122:329,32[C  ]| her?"
122:330,01[V  ]| "Happily no$7$," 
122:330,01['  ]| said the good sister, blushing a
122:330,02['  ]| little.  
122:330,02[V  ]| "\9Ce 9n'est 9pas 9ma 9partie\.  I teach nothing;
122:330,03[V  ]| I leave that$6#2$ to$4$ those who$6#1$ are wiser.  We have an excellent 
122:330,04[V  ]| drawing-master, Mr% ~~ Mr% ~~ what is his 
122:330,05[V  ]| name?" 
122:330,05['  ]| she asked of her companion.
122:330,06['  ]| Her companion looked about at the carpet.  
122:330,06[V  ]| "It is
122:330,07[V  ]| a German name," 
122:330,07['  ]| she said in$4$ Italian, as if it needed 
122:330,08['  ]| to$9$ be translated.
122:330,09[V  ]| "Yes," 
122:330,09['  ]| the other went on$5$, 
122:330,09[V  ]| "he is a German, and 
122:330,10[V  ]| we have had him many years."
122:330,11['  ]| The young girl, who$6#1$ was not heeding the conversation,
122:330,12['  ]| had wandered away to$4$ the open door of the 
122:330,13['  ]| large room and stood looking into the garden.  
122:330,13[C  ]| "And
122:330,14[C  ]| you, my sister, are French," 
122:330,14['  ]| said the gentleman.
122:330,15[V  ]| "Yes, sir," 
122:330,15['  ]| the visitor gently replied.  
122:330,15[V  ]| "I speak
122:330,16[V  ]| to$4$ the pupils in$4$ my own tongue.  I know no$2$ other.
122:330,17[V  ]| But we have sisters of other countries ~~ English,
122:330,18[V  ]| German, Irish.  They all speak their proper language."
122:330,19['  ]| The gentleman gave a smile.  
122:330,19[C  ]| "Has my daughter
122:330,20[C  ]| been under the care of one of the Irish ladies?"
122:330,21['  ]| And then, as he saw that$3$ his visitors suspected a joke,
122:330,22['  ]| though failing to$9$ understand it, 
122:330,22[C  ]| "You are very complete,"
122:330,23['  ]| he instantly added.
122:330,24[V  ]| "Oh, yes, we are complete.  We have everything,
122:330,25[V  ]| and everything is of the best."
122:330,26[V  ]| "We have gymnastics," 
122:330,26['  ]| the Italian sister ventured
122:330,27['  ]| to$9$ remark.  
122:330,27[V  ]| "But not dangerous."
122:330,28[C  ]| "I hope not.  Is that$6#2$ \your\ branch?"  
122:330,28['  ]| A question
122:330,29['  ]| which$6#1$ provoked much candid hilarity on$4$ the part
122:330,30['  ]| of the two ladies; on$4$ the subsidence of which$6#1$ their
122:330,31['  ]| entertainer, glancing at his daughter, remarked that$3$ 
122:330,32@c   | she had grown.
122:331,01[V  ]| "Yes, but I think she has finished.  She will$1$ remain
122:331,02[V  ]| ~~ not big," 
122:331,02['  ]| said the French sister.
122:331,03[C  ]| "I am not sorry.  I prefer women like$4$ books ~~
122:331,04[C  ]| very good and not too long.  But I know," 
122:331,04['  ]| the
122:331,05['  ]| gentleman said, 
122:331,05[C  ]| "no$2$ particular reason why my child
122:331,06[C  ]| should be short."
122:331,07['  ]| The nun gave a temperate shrug, as if to$9$ intimate
122:331,08['  ]| that$3$ such things might be beyond our knowledge.
122:331,09[V  ]| "She is in$4$ a very good health; that$6#2$ is the best 
122:331,10[V  ]| thing."
122:331,11[C  ]| "Yes, she looks sound."  
122:331,11['  ]| And the young girl's
122:331,12['  ]| father watched her a moment.  
122:331,12[C  ]| "What do you see
122:331,13[C  ]| in$4$ the garden?"  
122:331,13['  ]| he asked in$4$ French.
122:331,14[K  ]| "I see many flowers," 
122:331,14['  ]| she replied in$4$ a sweet, small
122:331,15['  ]| voice and with an accent as good as his own.
122:331,16[C  ]| "Yes, but not many good ones.  However, such as
122:331,17[C  ]| they are, go out and gather some for$4$ \9ces*dames\."
122:331,18['  ]| The child turned to$4$ him with her smile heightened
122:331,19['  ]| by$4$ pleasure.  
122:331,19[K  ]| "May I, truly?"
122:331,20[C  ]| "Ah, when I tell you," 
122:331,20['  ]| said her father.
122:331,21['  ]| The girl glanced at the elder of the nuns.  
122:331,21[K  ]| "May I,
122:331,22[K  ]| truly, \9ma*me`re\?"
122:331,23[V  ]| "Obey monsieur your father, my child," 
122:331,23['  ]| said the 
122:331,24['  ]| sister, blushing again.
122:331,25['  ]| The child, satisfied with this authorisation, descended 
122:331,26['  ]| from the threshold and was presently lost 
122:331,27['  ]| to$4$ sight.  
122:331,27[C  ]| "You do not spoil them," 
122:331,27['  ]| said the father
122:331,28['  ]| gaily.
122:331,29[V  ]| "For$4$ everything they must ask leave.  That$6#2$ is
122:331,30[V  ]| our system.  Leave is freely granted, but they must
122:331,31[V  ]| ask it."
122:331,32[C  ]| "Oh, I do not quarrel with your system; I have no$2$
122:332,01[C  ]| doubt it is excellent.  I sent you my daughter to$9$ see
122:332,02[C  ]| what you would make of her.  I had faith."
122:332,03[V  ]| "One must have faith," 
122:332,03['  ]| the sister blandly rejoined,
122:332,04['  ]| gazing through her spectacles.
122:332,05[C  ]| "Well, has my faith been rewarded?  What have
122:332,06[C  ]| you made of her?"
122:332,07['  ]| The sister dropped her eyes a moment.  
122:332,07[V  ]| "A good
122:332,08[V  ]| Christian, monsieur."
122:332,09['  ]| Her host dropped his eyes as well; but it was probable 
122:332,10['  ]| that$3$ the movement had in$4$ each case a different
122:332,11['  ]| spring.  
122:332,11[C  ]| "Yes, and what else?"
122:332,12['  ]| He watched the lady from the convent, probably
122:332,13['  ]| thinking she would say that$3$ a good Christian was
122:332,14['  ]| everything; but for$4$ all her simplicity she was not so$5#1$
122:332,15['  ]| crude as that$6#2$.  
122:332,15[V  ]| "A charming young lady ~~ a real
122:332,16[V  ]| little woman ~~ a daughter in$4$ whom you will$1$ have
122:332,17[V  ]| nothing but contentment."
122:332,18[C  ]| "She seems to$4$ me very \9gentille\" 
122:332,18['  ]| said the father.
122:332,19[C  ]| "She is really pretty."
122:332,20[V  ]| "She is perfect.  She has no$2$ faults."
122:332,21[C  ]| "She never had any as a child, and I am glad you
122:332,22[C  ]| have given her none."
122:332,23[V  ]| "We love her too much," 
122:332,23['  ]| said the spectacled sister
122:332,24['  ]| with dignity.  
122:332,24[V  ]| "And as for$4$ faults, how can we give
122:332,25[V  ]| what we have not?  \9Le 9couvent 9n'est 9pas 9comme 9le
122:332,26[V  ]| 9monde, 9monsieur\.  She is our daughter, as you may
122:332,27[V  ]| say.   We have had her since she was so$5#1$ small."
122:332,28[V  ]| "Of all those we shall lose this year she is the one
122:332,29[V  ]| we shall miss most," 
122:332,29['  ]| the younger woman murmured
122:332,30['  ]| deferentially.
122:332,31[V  ]| "Ah, yes, we shall talk long of her," 
122:332,31['  ]| said the other.
122:332,32[V  ]| "We shall hold her up$5$ to$4$ the new ones."  
122:332,32['  ]| And at this
122:333,01['  ]| the good sister appeared to$9$ find her spectacles dim;
122:333,02['  ]| while her companion, after fumbling a moment, presently
122:333,03['  ]| drew forth a pocket-handkerchief of durable
122:333,04['  ]| texture.
122:333,05[C  ]| "It is not certain you will$1$ lose her; nothing is settled
122:333,06[C  ]| yet," 
122:333,06['  ]| their host rejoined quickly; not as if to$9$ anticipate
122:333,07['  ]| their tears, but in$4$ the tone of a man saying 
122:333,08['  ]| what was most agreeable to$4$ himself.
122:333,09[V  ]| "We should be very happy to$9$ believe that$6#2$.  Fifteen
122:333,10[V  ]| is very young to$9$ leave us."
122:333,11[C  ]| "Oh," 
122:333,11['  ]| exclaimed the gentleman with more vivacity
122:333,12['  ]| than he had yet used, 
122:333,12[C  ]| "it is not I who$6#1$ wish to$9$ take her
122:333,13[C  ]| away.  I wish you could keep her always!"
122:333,14[V  ]| "Ah, monsieur," 
122:333,14['  ]| said the elder sister, smiling and 
122:333,15['  ]| getting up$5$, 
122:333,15[V  ]| "good as she is, she is made for$4$ the world.
122:333,16[V  ]| \9Le 9monde 9y 9gagnera\."
122:333,17[V  ]| "If all the good people were hidden away in$4$ convents
122:333,18[V  ]| how would the world get on$5$?" 
122:333,18['  ]| her companion
122:333,19['  ]| softly enquired, rising also.
122:333,20['  ]| This was a question of a wider bearing than the 
122:333,21['  ]| good woman apparently supposed; and the lady in$4$
122:333,22['  ]| spectacles took a harmonising view by$4$ saying comfortably:
122:333,23[V  ]| "Fortunately there are good people everywhere."
122:333,24[V  ]|
122:333,25[C  ]| "If you are going there will$1$ be two less here," 
122:333,25['  ]| her
122:333,26['  ]| host remarked gallantly.
122:333,27['  ]| For$4$ this extravagant sally his simple visitors had no$2$
122:333,28['  ]| answer, and they simply looked at each other in$4$ decent
122:333,29['  ]| deprecation; but their confusion was speedily
122:333,30['  ]| covered by$4$ the return of the young girl with two 
122:333,31['  ]| large bunches of roses ~~ one of them all white, the 
122:333,32['  ]| other red.
122:334,01[K  ]| "I give you your choice, 9mamman*Catherine," 
122:334,01['  ]| said
122:334,02['  ]| the child.  
122:334,02[K  ]| "It is only the colour that$6#1$ is different,
122:334,03[K  ]| 9mamman*Justine; there are just as many roses in$4$ one
122:334,04[K  ]| bunch as in$4$ the other."
122:334,05['  ]| The two sisters turned to$4$ each other, smiling and
122:334,06['  ]| hesitating, with 
122:334,06[V  ]| "Which$6#2$ will$1$ you take?" 
122:334,06['  ]| and 
122:334,06[V  ]| "No$7$,
122:334,07[V  ]| it is for$4$ you to$9$ choose."
122:334,08[V  ]| "I will$1$ take the red, thank you," 
122:334,08['  ]| said mother Catherine
122:334,09['  ]| in$4$ the spectacles.  
122:334,09[V  ]| "I am so$5#1$ red myself.  They will$1$
122:334,10[V  ]| comfort us on$4$ our way back to$4$ Rome."
122:334,11[K  ]| "Ah, they will$1$ not last," 
122:334,11['  ]| cried the young girl.  
122:334,11[K  ]| "I
122:334,12[K  ]| wish I could give you something that$6#1$ would last!"
122:334,13[V  ]| "You have given us a good memory of yourself, my
122:334,14[V  ]| daughter.  That$6#2$ will$1$ last!"
122:334,15[K  ]| "I wish nuns could wear pretty things.  I would
122:334,16[K  ]| give you my blue beads," 
122:334,16['  ]| the child went on$5$.
122:334,17[C  ]| "And do you go back to$4$ Rome to-night?" 
122:334,17['  ]| her
122:334,18['  ]| father enquired.
122:334,19[V  ]| "Yes, we take the train again.  We have so$5#1$ much to$9$
122:334,20[V  ]| do \9la`-bas\."
122:334,21[C  ]| "Are you not tired?"
122:334,22[V  ]| "We are never tired."
122:334,23[V  ]| "Ah, my sister, sometimes," 
122:334,23['  ]| murmured the junior
122:334,24['  ]| votaress.
122:334,25[V  ]| "Not to-day, at any rate.  We have rested too well
122:334,26[V  ]| here.  \9Que 9Dieu 9vous 9garde, 9ma*fille\."
122:334,27['  ]| Their host, while they exchanged kisses with his
122:334,28['  ]| daughter, went forward to$9$ open the door through
122:334,29['  ]| which$6#1$ they were to$9$ pass; but as he did so$5#2$ he gave a
122:334,30['  ]| slight exclamation, and stood looking beyond.  The 
122:334,31['  ]| door opened into a vaulted ante-chamber, as high as
122:334,32['  ]| a chapel and paved with red tiles; and into this ante-chamber
122:335,01['  ]| a lady had just been admitted by$4$ a servant,
122:335,02['  ]| a lad in$4$ shabby livery, who$6#1$ was now ushering her
122:335,03['  ]| toward the apartment in$4$ which$6#1$ our friends were
122:335,04['  ]| grouped.  The gentleman at the door, after dropping
122:335,05['  ]| his exclamation, remained silent; in$4$ silence too the 
122:335,06['  ]| lady advanced.  He gave her no$2$ further audible greeting
122:335,07['  ]| and offered her no$2$ hand, but stood aside to$9$ let her
122:335,08['  ]| pass into the saloon.  At the threshold she hesitated.
122:335,09[H  ]| "Is there any*one?" 
122:335,09['  ]| she asked.
122:335,10[C  ]| "Some*one you may see."
122:335,11['  ]| She went in$5$ and found herself confronted with the 
122:335,12['  ]| two nuns and their pupil, who$6#1$ was coming forward,
122:335,13['  ]| between them, with a hand in$4$ the arm of each.  At the 
122:335,14['  ]| sight of the new visitor they all paused, and the lady,
122:335,15['  ]| who$6#1$ had also stopped, stood looking at them.  The 
122:335,16['  ]| young girl gave a little soft cry: 
122:335,16[K  ]| "Ah, Madame*Merle!"
122:335,17[K  ]| 
122:335,18['  ]| The visitor had been slightly startled, but her manner
122:335,19['  ]| the next instant was none the less gracious.  
122:335,19[H  ]| "Yes,
122:335,20[H  ]| it is Madame*Merle, come to$9$ welcome you home."
122:335,21['  ]| And she held out two hands to$4$ the girl, who$6#1$ immediately
122:335,22['  ]| came up$5$ to$4$ her, presenting her forehead to$9$ be
122:335,23['  ]| kissed.  Madame*Merle saluted this portion of her
122:335,24['  ]| charming little person and then stood smiling at the 
122:335,25['  ]| two nuns.  They acknowledged her smile with a decent
122:335,26['  ]| obeisance, but permitted themselves no$2$ direct
122:335,27['  ]| scrutiny of this imposing, brilliant woman, who$6#1$ seemed
122:335,28['  ]| to$9$ bring in$5$ with her something of the radiance of the 
122:335,29['  ]| outer world.
122:335,30[C  ]| "These ladies have brought my daughter home,
122:335,31[C  ]| and now they return to$4$ the convent," 
122:335,31['  ]| the gentleman
122:335,32['  ]| explained.
122:336,01[H  ]| "Ah, you go back to$4$ Rome?  I have lately come from
122:336,02[H  ]| there.  It is very lovely now," 
122:336,02['  ]| said Madame*Merle.
122:336,03['  ]| The good sisters, standing with their hands folded
122:336,04['  ]| into their sleeves, accepted this statement uncritically;
122:336,05['  ]| and the master of the house asked his new visitor how
122:336,06['  ]| long it was since she had left Rome.  
122:336,06[K  ]| "She came to$9$ see
122:336,07[K  ]| me at the convent," 
122:336,07['  ]| said the young girl before the 
122:336,08['  ]| lady addressed had time to$9$ reply.
122:336,09[H  ]| "I have been more than once, Pansy," 
122:336,09['  ]| Madame*Merle
122:336,10['  ]| declared.  
122:336,10[H  ]| "Am I not you great friend in$4$
122:336,11[H  ]| Rome?"
122:336,12[K  ]| "I remember the last time best," 
122:336,12['  ]| said Pansy, 
122:336,12[K  ]| "because 
122:336,13[K  ]| you told me I should come away."
122:336,14[C  ]| "Did you tell her that$6#2$?"  
122:336,14['  ]| the child's father asked.
122:336,15[H  ]| "I hardly remember.  I told her what I thought 
122:336,16[H  ]| would please her.  I have been in$4$ Florence a week.  I 
122:336,17[H  ]| hoped you would come to$9$ see me."
122:336,18[C  ]| "I should have done so$5#2$ if I had known you were
122:336,19[C  ]| there.  One does not know such things by$4$ inspiration
122:336,20[C  ]| ~~ though I suppose one ought.  You had better sit
122:336,21[C  ]| down."
122:336,22['  ]| These two speeches were made in$4$ a particular tone
122:336,23['  ]| of voice ~~ a tone half-lowered and carefully quiet,
122:336,24['  ]| but as from habit rather than from any definite need.
122:336,25['  ]| Madame*Merle looked about her, choosing her seat.
122:336,26[H  ]| "You are going to$4$ the door with these women?  Let
122:336,27[H  ]| me of course not interrupt the ceremony.  \9Je 9vous
122:336,28[H  ]| 9salue, 9mesdames\," 
122:336,28['  ]| she added, in$4$ French, to$4$ the nuns,
122:336,29['  ]| as if to$9$ dismiss them.
122:336,30[C  ]| "This lady is a great friend of ours; you will$1$ have
122:336,31[C  ]| seen her at the convent," 
122:336,31['  ]| said their entertainer.
122:336,32[C  ]| "We have much faith in$4$ her judgement, and she will$1$
122:337,01[C  ]| help me to$9$ decide whether my daughter shall return
122:337,02[C  ]| to$4$ you at the end of the holidays."
122:337,03[V  ]| "I hope you will$1$ decide in$4$ our favour, madame,"
122:337,04['  ]| the sister in$4$ spectacles ventured to$9$ remark.
122:337,05[H  ]| "That$6#2$ is Mr%*Osmond's pleasantry; I decide nothing,"
122:337,06['  ]| said Madame*Merle, but also as in$4$ pleasantry.
122:337,07[H  ]| "I believe you have a very good school, but
122:337,08[H  ]| Miss*Osmond's friends must remember that$3$ she is
122:337,09[H  ]| very naturally meant for$4$ the world."
122:337,10[V  ]| "That$6#2$ is what I have told monsieur," 
122:337,10['  ]| sister Catherine
122:337,11['  ]| answered.  
122:337,11[V  ]| "It is precisely to$9$ fit her for$4$ the world,"
122:337,12['  ]| she murmured, glancing at Pansy, who$6#1$ stood, at a 
122:337,13['  ]| little distance, attentive to$4$ Madame*Merle's elegant
122:337,14['  ]| apparel.
122:337,15[C  ]| "Do you hear that$6#2$, Pansy?  You are very naturally
122:337,16[C  ]| meant for$4$ the world," 
122:337,16['  ]| said Pansy's father.
122:337,17['  ]| The child fixed him an instant with her pure young
122:337,18['  ]| eyes.  
122:337,18[K  ]| "Am I not meant for$4$ you, papa?"
122:337,19['  ]| Papa gave a quick, light laugh.  
122:337,19[C  ]| "That$6#2$ does not
122:337,20[C  ]| prevent it!  I am of the world, Pansy."
122:337,21[V  ]| "Kindly permit us to$9$ retire," 
122:337,21['  ]| said sister Catherine.
122:337,22[V  ]| "Be good and wise and happy in$4$ any case, my
122:337,23[V  ]| daughter."
122:337,24[K  ]| "I shall certainly come back and see you," 
122:337,24['  ]| Pansy
122:337,25['  ]| returned, recommencing her embraces, which$6#1$ were
122:337,26['  ]| presently interrupted by$4$ Madame*Merle.
122:337,27[H  ]| "Stay with me, dear child," 
122:337,27['  ]| she said, 
122:337,27[H  ]| "while your
122:337,28[H  ]| father takes the good ladies to$4$ the door."
122:337,29['  ]| Pansy stared, disappointed, yet not protesting.
122:337,30['  ]| She was evidently impregnated with the idea of submission,
122:337,31['  ]| which$6#1$ was due to$4$ any*one who$6#1$ took the 
122:337,32['  ]| tone of authority; and she was a passive spectator of 
122:338,01['  ]| the operation of her fate.  
122:338,01[K  ]| "May I not see 9mamman*Catherine 
122:338,02[K  ]| get into the carriage?"  
122:338,02['  ]| she nevertheless
122:338,03['  ]| asked very gently.
122:338,04[H  ]| "It would please me better if you would remain with 
122:338,05[H  ]| me," 
122:338,05['  ]| said Madame*Merle, while Mr%*Osmond and
122:338,06['  ]| his companions, who$6#1$ had bowed low again to$4$ the 
122:338,07['  ]| other visitor, passed into the ante-chamber.
122:338,08[K  ]| "Oh yes, I will$1$ stay," 
122:338,08['  ]| Pansy answered; and she 
122:338,09['  ]| stood near Madame*Merle, surrendering her little
122:338,10['  ]| hand, which$6#1$ this lady took.  She stared out of the 
122:338,11['  ]| window; her eyes had filled with tears.
122:338,12[H  ]| "I am glad they have taught you to$9$ obey," 
122:338,12['  ]| said
122:338,13['  ]| Madame*Merle.  
122:338,13[H  ]| "That$6#2$ is what good little girls
122:338,14[H  ]| should do."
122:338,15[K  ]| "Oh yes, I obey very well," 
122:338,15['  ]| cried Pansy with soft
122:338,16['  ]| eagerness, almost with boastfulness, as if she had
122:338,17['  ]| been speaking of her piano-playing.  And then she
122:338,18['  ]| gave a faint, just audible sigh.
122:338,19['  ]| Madame*Merle, holding her hand, drew it across
122:338,20['  ]| her own fine palm and looked at it.  The gaze was
122:338,21['  ]| critical, but it found nothing to$9$ deprecate; the child's
122:338,22['  ]| small hand was delicate and fair.  
122:338,22[H  ]| "I hope they always
122:338,23[H  ]| see that$3$ you wear gloves," 
122:338,23['  ]| she said in$4$ a moment.
122:338,24[H  ]| "Little girls usually dislike them."
122:338,25[K  ]| "I used to$9$ dislike them, but I like$1$ them now," 
122:338,25['  ]| the 
122:338,26['  ]| child made answer.
122:338,27[H  ]| "Very good, I will$1$ make you a present of a dozen."
122:338,28[K  ]| "I thank you very much.  What colours will$1$ they
122:338,29[K  ]| be?"  
122:338,29['  ]| Pansy demanded with interest.
122:338,30['  ]| Madame*Merle meditated.  
122:338,30[H  ]| "Useful colours."
122:338,31[K  ]| "But very pretty?"
122:338,32[H  ]| "Are you very fond of pretty things?"
122:339,01[K  ]| "Yes; but ~~ but not too fond," 
122:339,01['  ]| said Pansy with a 
122:339,02['  ]| trace of asceticism.
122:339,03[H  ]| "Well, they will$1$ not be too pretty," 
122:339,03['  ]| Madame*Merle
122:339,04['  ]| returned with a laugh.  She took the child's other
122:339,05['  ]| hand and drew her nearer; after which$6#1$, looking at
122:339,06['  ]| her a moment, 
122:339,06[H  ]| "Shall you miss mother Catherine?"
122:339,07['  ]| she went on$5$.
122:339,08[K  ]| "Yes ~~ when I think of her."
122:339,09[H  ]| "Try then not to$9$ think of her.  Perhaps some day,"
122:339,10['  ]| added Madame*Merle, 
122:339,10[H  ]| "you will$1$ have another mother."
122:339,11[K  ]| "I do not think that$6#2$ is necessary," 
122:339,11['  ]| Pansy said, repeating 
122:339,12['  ]| her little soft conciliatory sigh.  
122:339,12[K  ]| "I had more
122:339,13[K  ]| than thirty mothers at the convent."
122:339,14['  ]| Her father's step sounded again in$4$ the ante-chamber,
122:339,15['  ]| and Madame*Merle got up$5$, releasing the 
122:339,16['  ]| child.  Mr%*Osmond came in$5$ and closed the door;
122:339,17['  ]| then, without looking at Madame*Merle, he pushed
122:339,18['  ]| one or two chairs back into their places.  His visitor
122:339,19['  ]| waited a moment for$4$ him to$9$ speak, watching him as he
122:339,20['  ]| moved about.  Then at last she said: 
122:339,20[H  ]| "I hoped you would
122:339,21[H  ]| have come to$4$ Rome.  I thought it possible you would
122:339,22[H  ]| have wished yourself to$9$ fetch Pansy away."
122:339,23[C  ]| "That$6#2$ was a natural supposition; but I am afraid
122:339,24[C  ]| it is not the first time I have acted in$4$ defiance of your 
122:339,25[C  ]| calculations."
122:339,26[H  ]| "Yes," 
122:339,26['  ]| said Madame*Merle, 
122:339,26[H  ]| "I think you very
122:339,27[H  ]| perverse."
122:339,28['  ]| Mr%*Osmond busied himself for$4$ a moment in$4$ the 
122:339,29['  ]| room ~~ there was plenty of space in$4$ it to$9$ move about
122:339,30['  ]| ~~ in$4$ the fashion of a man mechanically seeking
122:339,31['  ]| pretexts for$4$ not giving an attention which$6#1$ may be
122:339,32['  ]| embarrassing.  Presently, however, he had exhausted
122:340,01['  ]| his pretexts; there was nothing left for$4$ him ~~ unless
122:340,02['  ]| he took up$5$ a book ~~ but to$9$ stand with his hands
122:340,03['  ]| behind him looking at Pansy.  
122:340,03[C  ]| "Why did not you
122:340,04[C  ]| come and see the last of 9mamman*Catherine?"  
122:340,04['  ]| he
122:340,05['  ]| asked of her abruptly in$4$ French.
122:340,06['  ]| Pansy hesitated a moment, glancing at Madame*Merle.
122:340,07[H  ]| "I asked her to$9$ stay with me," 
122:340,07['  ]| said this
122:340,08['  ]| lady, who$6#1$ had seated herself again in$4$ another place.
122:340,09[C  ]| "Ah, that$6#2$ was better," 
122:340,09['  ]| Osmond conceded.  With 
122:340,10['  ]| which$6#1$ he dropped into a chair and sat looking at
122:340,11['  ]| Madame*Merle; bent forward a little, his elbows
122:340,12['  ]| on$4$ the edge of the arms and his hands interlocked.
122:340,13[K  ]| "She is going to$9$ give me some gloves," 
122:340,13['  ]| said Pansy.
122:340,14[H  ]| "You need not tell that$6#2$ to$4$ every*one, my dear,"
122:340,15['  ]| Madame*Merle observed.
122:340,16[C  ]| "You are very kind to$4$ her," 
122:340,16['  ]| said Osmond.  
122:340,16[C  ]| "She is
122:340,17[C  ]| supposed to$9$ have everything she needs."
122:340,18[H  ]| "I should think she had had enough of the nuns."
122:340,19[C  ]| "If we are going to$9$ discuss that$6#2$ matter she had 
122:340,20[C  ]| better go out of the room."
122:340,21[H  ]| "Let her stay," 
122:340,21['  ]| said Madame*Merle.  
122:340,21[H  ]| "We will$1$ talk
122:340,22[H  ]| of something else."
122:340,23[K  ]| "If you like$1$ I will$1$ not listen," 
122:340,23['  ]| Pansy suggested with
122:340,24['  ]| an appearance of candour which$6#1$ imposed conviction.
122:340,25['  ]| 
122:340,26[C  ]| "You may listen, charming child, because you
122:340,27[C  ]| will$1$ not understand," 
122:340,27['  ]| her father replied.  The child
122:340,28['  ]| sat down, deferentially, near the open door, within
122:340,29['  ]| sight of the garden, into which$6#1$ she directed her innocent,
122:340,30['  ]| wistful eyes; and Mr%*Osmond went on$5$ irrelevantly, 
122:340,31['  ]| addressing himself to$4$ his other companion.
122:340,32[C  ]| "You are looking particularly well."
122:341,01[H  ]| "I think I always look the same," 
122:341,01['  ]| said Madame*Merle.
122:341,02['  ]| 
122:341,03[C  ]| "You always \are\ the same.  You do not vary.  You are
122:341,04[C  ]| a wonderful woman."
122:341,05[H  ]| "Yes, I think I am."
122:341,06[C  ]| "You sometimes change your mind, however.
122:341,07[C  ]| You told me on$4$ your return from England that$3$ you
122:341,08[C  ]| would not leave Rome again for$4$ the present."
122:341,09[H  ]| "I am pleased that$3$ you remember so$5#1$ well what
122:341,10[H  ]| I say.  That$6#2$ was my intention.  But I have come to$4$
122:341,11[H  ]| Florence to$9$ meet some friends who$6#1$ have lately arrived
122:341,12[H  ]| and as to$4$ whose movements I was at that$6#2$ time
122:341,13[H  ]| uncertain."
122:341,14[C  ]| "That$6#2$ reason is characteristic.  You are always
122:341,15[C  ]| doing something for$4$ your friends."
122:341,16['  ]| Madame*Merle smiled straight at her host.  
122:341,16[H  ]| "It is
122:341,17[H  ]| less characteristic than your comment upon$4$ it ~~
122:341,18[H  ]| which$6#1$ is perfectly insincere.  I do not, however,
122:341,19[H  ]| make a crime of that$6#2$," 
122:341,19['  ]| she added, 
122:341,19[H  ]| "because if you 
122:341,20[H  ]| do not believe what you say there is no$2$ reason \why\
122:341,21[H  ]| you should.  I do not ruin myself for$4$ my friends; I
122:341,22[H  ]| do not deserve your praise.  I care greatly for$4$ myself."
122:341,23[C  ]| "Exactly; but yourself includes so$5#1$ many other
122:341,24[C  ]| selves ~~ so$5#1$ much of every*one else and of everything.
122:341,25[C  ]| I never knew a person whose life touched so$5#1$ many 
122:341,26[C  ]| other lives."
122:341,27[H  ]| "What do you call one's life?" 
122:341,27['  ]| asked Madame*Merle.
122:341,28[H  ]| "One's appearance, one's movements, one's
122:341,29[H  ]| engagements, one's society?"
122:341,30[C  ]| "I call \your\ life your ambitions," 
122:341,30['  ]| said Osmond.
122:341,31['  ]| Madame*Merle looked a moment at Pansy.  
122:341,31[H  ]| "I 
122:341,32[H  ]| wonder if she understands that$6#2$," 
122:341,31['  ]| she murmured.
122:342,01[C  ]| "You see she can not stay with us!"  
122:342,01['  ]| And Pansy's
122:342,02['  ]| father gave rather a joyless smile.  
122:342,02[C  ]| "Go into the 
122:342,03[C  ]| garden, \9mignonne\, and pluck a flower or two for$4$
122:342,04[C  ]| Madame*Merle," 
122:342,04['  ]| he went on$5$ in$4$ French.
122:342,05[K  ]| "That$6#2$ is just what I wanted to$9$ do," 
122:342,05['  ]| Pansy exclaimed,
122:342,06['  ]| rising with promptness and noiselessly
122:342,07['  ]| departing.  Her father followed her to$4$ the open door,
122:342,08['  ]| stood a moment watching her, and then came back,
122:342,09['  ]| but remained standing, or rather strolling to$8$ and
122:342,10['  ]| fro, as if to$9$ cultivate a sense of freedom which$6#1$ in$4$
122:342,11['  ]| another attitude might be wanting.
122:342,12[H  ]| "My ambitions are principally for$4$ you," 
122:342,12['  ]| said Madame*Merle,
122:342,13['  ]| looking up$5$ at him with a certain courage.
122:342,14[C  ]| "That$6#2$ comes back to$4$ what I say.  I am part of your
122:342,15[C  ]| life ~~ I and a thousand others.  You are not selfish
122:342,16[C  ]| ~~ I can not admit that$6#2$.  If you were selfish, what should
122:342,17[C  ]| I be?  What epithet would properly describe me?"
122:342,18[H  ]| "You are indolent.  For$4$ me that$6#2$ is your worst
122:342,19[H  ]| fault."
122:342,20[C  ]| "I am afraid it is really my best."
122:342,21[H  ]| "You do not care," 
122:342,21['  ]| said Madame*Merle gravely.
122:342,22[C  ]| "No$7$; I do not think I care much.  What sort of 
122:342,23[C  ]| a fault do you call that$6#2$?  My indolence, at any rate,
122:342,24[C  ]| was one of the reasons I did not go to$4$ Rome.  But it
122:342,25[C  ]| was only one of them."
122:342,26[H  ]| "It is not of importance ~~ to$4$ me at least ~~ that$3$
122:342,27[H  ]| you did not go; though I should have been glad to$9$
122:342,28[H  ]| see you.  I am glad you are not in$4$ Rome now ~~ which$6#1$
122:342,29[H  ]| you might be, would probably be, if you had gone
122:342,30[H  ]| there a month ago.  There is something I should like$1$
122:342,31[H  ]| you to$9$ do at present in$4$ Florence."
122:342,32[C  ]| "Please remember my indolence," 
122:342,32['  ]| said Osmond.
122:343,01[H  ]| "I do remember it; but I beg you to$9$ forget it.
122:343,02[H  ]| In$4$ that$6#2$ way you will$1$ have both the virtue and the 
122:343,03[H  ]| reward.  This is not a great labour, and it may prove
122:343,04[H  ]| a real interest.  How long is it since you made a new
122:343,05[H  ]| acquaintance?"
122:343,06[C  ]| "I do not think I have made any since I made yours."
122:343,07[H  ]| "It is time then you should make another.  There is
122:343,08[H  ]| a friend of mine I want you to$9$ know."
122:343,09['  ]| Mr%*Osmond, in$4$ his walk, had gone back to$4$ the 
122:343,10['  ]| open door again and was looking at his daughter
122:343,11['  ]| as she moved about in$4$ the intense sunshine.  
122:343,11[C  ]| "What
122:343,12[C  ]| good will$1$ it do me?" 
122:343,12['  ]| he asked with a sort of genial
122:343,13['  ]| crudity.
122:343,14['  ]| Madame*Merle waited.  
122:343,14[H  ]| "It will$1$ amuse you."
122:343,15['  ]| There was nothing crude in$4$ this rejoinder; it had
122:343,16['  ]| been thoroughly well considered.
122:343,17[C  ]| "If you say that$6#2$, you know, I believe it," 
122:343,17['  ]| said
122:343,18['  ]| Osmond, coming toward her.  
122:343,18[C  ]| "There are some points
122:343,19[C  ]| in$4$ which$6#1$ my confidence in$4$ you is complete.  I am
122:343,20[C  ]| perfectly aware, for$4$ instance, that$3$ you know good
122:343,21[C  ]| society from bad."
122:343,22[H  ]| "Society is all bad."
122:343,23[C  ]| "Pardon me.  That$6#2$ is not ~~ the knowledge I impute
122:343,24[C  ]| to$4$ you ~~ a common sort of wisdom.  You have
122:343,25[C  ]| gained it in$4$ the right way ~~ experimentally; you have
122:343,26[C  ]| compared an immense number of more or less impossible
122:343,27[C  ]| people with each other."
122:343,28[H  ]| "Well, I invite you to$9$ profit by$4$ my knowledge."
122:343,29[C  ]| "To$9$ profit?  Are you very sure that$3$ I shall?"
122:343,30[H  ]| "It is what I hope.  It will$1$ depend on$4$ yourself.
122:343,31[H  ]| If I could only induce you to$9$ make an effort!"
122:343,32[C  ]| "Ah, there you are!  I knew something tiresome 
122:344,01[C  ]| was coming.  What in$4$ the world ~~ that$6#2$ is likely to$9$
122:344,02[C  ]| turn up$5$ here ~~ is worth an effort?"
122:344,03['  ]| Madame*Merle flushed as with a wounded intention.
122:344,04[H  ]| "Do not be foolish, Osmond.  No*one knows
122:344,05[H  ]| better than you what \is\ worth an effort.  Have not \I\
122:344,06[H  ]| seen you in$4$ old days?"
122:344,07[C  ]| "I recognise some things.  But they are none of
122:344,08[C  ]| them probable in$4$ this poor life."
122:344,09[H  ]| "It is the effort that$6#1$ makes them probable," 
122:344,09['  ]| said
122:344,10['  ]| Madame*Merle.
122:344,11[C  ]| "There is something in$4$ that$6#2$.  Who$6#2$ then is your
122:344,12[C  ]| friend?"
122:344,13[H  ]| "The person I came to$4$ Florence to$9$ see.  She is a 
122:344,14[H  ]| niece of Mrs%*Touchett, whom you will$1$ not have forgotten."
122:344,15[H  ]| 
122:344,16[C  ]| "A niece?  The word niece suggests youth and 
122:344,17[C  ]| ignorance.  I see what you are coming to$4$."
122:344,18[H  ]| "Yes, she is young ~~ twenty-three years old.  She is
122:344,19[H  ]| a great friend of mine.  I met her for$4$ the first time in$4$
122:344,20[H  ]| England, several months ago, and we struck up$5$ a 
122:344,21[H  ]| grand alliance.  I like$1$ her immensely, and I do what I 
122:344,22[H  ]| do not do every day ~~ I admire her.  You will$1$ do the 
122:344,23[H  ]| same."
122:344,24[C  ]| "Not if I can help it."
122:344,25[H  ]| "Precisely.  But you will$1$ not be able to$9$ help it."
122:344,26[C  ]| "Is she beautiful, clever, rich, splendid, universally
122:344,27[C  ]| intelligent and unprecedentedly virtuous?  It is only
122:344,28[C  ]| on$4$ those conditions that$3$ I care to$9$ make her acquaintance.
122:344,29[C  ]| You know I asked you some time ago never to$9$ 
122:344,30[C  ]| speak to$4$ me of a creature who$6#1$ should not correspond
122:344,31[C  ]| to$4$ that$6#2$ description.  I know plenty of dingy people;
122:344,32[C  ]| I do not want to$9$ know any more."
122:345,01[H  ]| "Miss Archer is not dingy; she is as bright as the 
122:345,02[H  ]| morning.  She corresponds to$4$ your description; it is
122:345,03[H  ]| for$4$ that$6#2$ I wish you to$9$ know her.  She fills all your
122:345,04[H  ]| requirements."
122:345,05[C  ]| "More or less, of course."
122:345,06[H  ]| "No$7$; quite literally.  She is beautiful, accomplished,
122:345,07[H  ]| generous and for$4$ an American, well-born.  She is also
122:345,08[H  ]| very clever and very amiable, and she has a handsome
122:345,09[H  ]| fortune."
122:345,10['  ]| Mr%*Osmond listened to$4$ this in$4$ silence, appearing
122:345,11['  ]| to$9$ turn it over in$4$ his mind with his eyes on$4$ his informant.
122:345,12[C  ]| "What do you want to$9$ do with her?"  
122:345,12['  ]| he asked
122:345,13['  ]| at last.
122:345,14[H  ]| "What you see.  Put her in$4$ your way."
122:345,15[C  ]| "Is not she meant for$4$ something better than that$6#2$?"
122:345,16[H  ]| "I do not pretend to$9$ know what people are meant
122:345,17[H  ]| for$4$," 
122:345,17['  ]| said Madame*Merle.  
122:345,17[H  ]| "I only know what I can
122:345,18[H  ]| do with them."
122:345,19[C  ]| "I am sorry for$4$ Miss*Archer!" 
122:345,19['  ]| Osmond declared.
122:345,20['  ]| Madame*Merle got up$5$.  
122:345,20[H  ]| "If that$6#2$ is a beginning of
122:345,21[H  ]| interest in$4$ her I take note of it."
122:345,22['  ]| The two stood there face to$4$ face; she settled her
122:345,23['  ]| mantilla, looking down at it as she did so$5#2$.  
122:345,23[C  ]| "You are
122:345,24[C  ]| looking very well," 
122:345,24['  ]| Osmond repeated still less relevantly 
122:345,25['  ]| than before.  
122:345,25[C  ]| "You have some idea.  You are
122:345,26[C  ]| never so$5#1$ well as when you have got an idea; they are
122:345,27[C  ]| always becoming to$4$ you."
122:345,28['  ]| In$4$ the manner and tone of these two persons, on$4$
122:345,29['  ]| first meeting at any juncture, and especially when 
122:345,30['  ]| they met in$4$ the presence of others, was something
122:345,31['  ]| indirect and circumspect, as if they had approached
122:345,32['  ]| each other obliquely and addressed each other by$4$ implication.
122:346,01['  ]| The effect of each appeared to$9$ be to$9$ intensify
122:346,02['  ]| to$4$ an appreciable degree the self-consciousness of the
122:346,03['  ]| other.  Madame*Merle of course carried off any embarrassment 
122:346,04['  ]| better than her friend; but even Madame*Merle 
122:346,05['  ]| had not on$4$ this occasion the form she would
122:346,06['  ]| have liked to$9$ have ~~ the perfect self-possession she
122:346,07['  ]| would have wished to$9$ wear for$4$ her host.  The point to$9$ 
122:346,08['  ]| be made is, however, that$3$ at a certain moment the 
122:346,09['  ]| element between them, whatever it was, always levelled
122:346,10['  ]| itself and left them more closely face to$4$ face than
122:346,11['  ]| either ever was with any*one else.  This was what had
122:346,12['  ]| happened now.  They stood there knowing each other
122:346,13['  ]| well and each on$4$ the whole willing to$9$ accept the satisfaction 
122:346,14['  ]| of knowing as a compensation for$4$ the inconvenience 
122:346,15['  ]| ~~ whatever it might be ~~ of being known.
122:346,16[H  ]| "I wish very much you were not so$5#1$ heartless," 
122:346,16['  ]| Madame*Merle
122:346,17['  ]| quietly said.  
122:346,17[H  ]| "It has always been against
122:346,18[H  ]| you, and it will$1$ be against you now."
122:346,19[C  ]| "I am not so$5#1$ heartless as you think.  Every now and 
122:346,20[C  ]| then something touches me ~~ as for$4$ instance your
122:346,21[C  ]| saying just now that$3$ your ambitions are for$4$ me.  I do not
122:346,22[C  ]| understand it; I do not see how or why they should be.
122:346,23[C  ]| But it touches me, all the same."
122:346,24[H  ]| "You will$1$ probably understand it even less as time
122:346,25[H  ]| goes on$5$.  There are some things you will$1$ never understand.
122:346,26[H  ]| There is no$2$ particular need you should."
122:346,27[C  ]| "You, after all, are the most remarkable of women," 
122:346,28['  ]| said Osmond.  
122:346,28[C  ]| "You have more in$4$ you than
122:346,29[C  ]| almost any*one.  I do not see why you think Mrs%*Touchett's
122:346,30[C  ]| niece should matter very much to$4$ me,
122:346,31[C  ]| when ~~ when ~~ "  
122:346,31['  ]| But he paused a moment.
122:346,32[H  ]| "When I myself have mattered so$5#1$ little?"
122:347,01[C  ]| "That$6#2$ of course is not what I meant to$9$ say.  When
122:347,02[C  ]| I have known and appreciated such a woman as you."
122:347,03[H  ]| "Isabel*Archer is better than I," 
122:347,03['  ]| said Madame*Merle.
122:347,04['  ]| 
122:347,05['  ]| Her companion gave a laugh.  
122:347,05[C  ]| "How little you
122:347,06[C  ]| must think of her to$9$ say that$6#2$!"
122:347,07[H  ]| "Do you supppose I am capable of jealousy?  Please
122:347,08[H  ]| answer me that$6#2$."
122:347,09[C  ]| "With regard to$4$ me?  No$7$; on$4$ the whole I do not."
122:347,10[H  ]| "Come and see me then, two days hence.  I am
122:347,11[H  ]| staying at Mrs%*Touchett's ~~ Palazzo*Crescentini
122:347,12[H  ]| ~~ and the girl will$1$ be there."
122:347,13[C  ]| "Why did not you ask me that$6#2$ at first simply, without 
122:347,14[C  ]| speaking of the girl?" 
122:347,14['  ]| said Osmond.  
122:347,14[C  ]| "You could
122:347,15[C  ]| have had her there at any rate."
122:347,16['  ]| Madame*Merle looked at him in$4$ the manner of a 
122:347,17['  ]| woman whom no$2$ question he could ever put would
122:347,18['  ]| find unprepared.  
122:347,18[H  ]| "Do you wish to$9$ know why?  Because
122:347,19[H  ]| I have spoken of you to$4$ her."
122:347,20['  ]| Osmond frowned and turned away.  
122:347,20[C  ]| "I would rather 
122:347,21[C  ]| not know that$6#2$."  
122:347,21['  ]| Then in$4$ a moment he pointed out
122:347,22['  ]| the easel supporting the little water-colour drawing.
122:347,23[C  ]| "Have you seen what is there ~~ my last?"
122:347,24['  ]| Madame*Merle drew near and considered.  
122:347,24[H  ]| "Is
122:347,25[H  ]| it the Venetian Alps ~~ one of your last year's
122:347,26[H  ]| sketches?"
122:347,27[C  ]| "Yes ~~ but how you guess everything!"
122:347,28['  ]| She looked a moment longer, then turned away.
122:347,29[H  ]| "You know I do not care for$4$ your drawings."
122:347,30[C  ]| "I know it, yet I am always surprised at it.  They are
122:347,31[C  ]| really so$5#1$ much better than most people's."
122:347,32[H  ]| "That$6#2$ may very well be.  But as the only thing
122:348,01[H  ]| you do ~~ well, it is so$5#1$ little.  I should have liked you
122:348,02[H  ]| to$9$ do so$5#1$ many other things: those were my ambitions."
122:348,03[H  ]| 
122:348,04[C  ]| "Yes; you have told me many times ~~ things that$6#1$
122:348,05[C  ]| were impossible."
122:348,06[H  ]| "Things that$6#1$ were impossible," 
122:348,06['  ]| said Madame*Merle.
122:348,07['  ]| And then in$4$ quite a different tone: 
122:348,07[H  ]| "In$4$ itself
122:348,08[H  ]| your little picture is very good."  
122:348,08['  ]| She looked about
122:348,09['  ]| the room ~~ at the old cabinets, pictures, tapestries,
122:348,10['  ]| surfaces of faded silk.  
122:348,10[H  ]| "Your rooms at least are perfect.
122:348,11[H  ]| I am struck with that$6#2$ afresh whenever I come
122:348,12[H  ]| back; I know none better anywhere.  You understand 
122:348,13[H  ]| this sort of thing as nobody anywhere does.
122:348,14[H  ]| You have such adorable taste."
122:348,15[C  ]| "I am sick of my adorable taste," 
122:348,15['  ]| said Gilbert*Osmond.
122:348,16['  ]| 
122:348,17[H  ]| "You must nevertheless let Miss*Archer come and
122:348,18[H  ]| see it.  I have told her about it."
122:348,19[C  ]| "I do not object to$4$ showing my things ~~ when people
122:348,20[C  ]| are not idiots."
122:348,21[H  ]| "You do it delightfully.  As cicerone of your
122:348,22[H  ]| museum you appear to$4$ particular advantage."
122:348,23['  ]| Mr%*Osmond, in$4$ return for$4$ this compliment, simply
122:348,24['  ]| looked at once colder and more attentive.  
122:348,24[C  ]| "Did you
122:348,25[C  ]| say she was rich?"
122:348,26[H  ]| "She has seventy thousand pounds."
122:348,27[C  ]| "\9En 9e=cus 9bien 9compte=s\?"
122:348,28[H  ]| "There is no$2$ doubt whatever about her fortune.
122:348,29[H  ]| I have seen it, as I may say."
122:348,30[C  ]| "Satisfactory woman! ~~ I mean \you\.  And if I go 
122:348,31[C  ]| to$9$ see her shall I see the mother?"
122:348,32[H  ]| "The mother?  She has none ~~ nor father either."
122:349,01[C  ]| "The aunt then ~~ whom did you say? ~~ Mrs%*Touchett."
122:349,02[C  ]| 
122:349,03[H  ]| "I can easily keep her out of the way."
122:349,04[C  ]| "I do not object to$4$ her," 
122:349,04['  ]| said Osmond; 
122:349,04[C  ]| "I rather like$1$
122:349,05[C  ]| Mrs%*Touchett.  She has a sort of old-fashioned character
122:349,06[C  ]| that$6#1$ is passing away ~~ a vivid identity.  But that$6#2$
122:349,07[C  ]| long jackanapes the son ~~ is he about the place?"
122:349,08[H  ]| "He is there, but he will$1$ not trouble you."
122:349,09[C  ]| "He is a good deal of a donkey."
122:349,10[H  ]| "I think you are mistaken.  He is a very clever man.
122:349,11[H  ]| But he is not fond of being about when I am there,
122:349,12[H  ]| because he does not like$1$ me."
122:349,13[C  ]| "What could be more asinine than that$6#2$?  Did you
122:349,14[C  ]| say she has looks?"  
122:349,14['  ]| Osmond went on$5$.
122:349,15[H  ]| "Yes; but I will$1$ not say it again, lest you should be 
122:349,16[H  ]| disappointed in$4$ them.  Come and make a beginning;
122:349,17[H  ]| that$6#2$ is all I ask of you."
122:349,18[C  ]| "A beginning of what?"
122:349,19['  ]| Madame*Merle was silent a little.  
122:349,19[H  ]| "I want you
122:349,20[H  ]| of course to$9$ marry her."
122:349,21[C  ]| "The beginning of the end?  Well, I will$1$ see for$4$ myself.
122:349,22[C  ]| Have you told her that$6#2$?"
122:349,23[H  ]| "For$4$ what do you take me?  She is not so$5#1$ coarse a 
122:349,24[H  ]| piece of machinery ~~ nor am I."
122:349,25[C  ]| "Really," 
122:349,25['  ]| said Osmond after some meditation, 
122:349,25[C  ]| "I
122:349,26[C  ]| do not understand your ambitions."
122:349,27[H  ]| "I think you will$1$ understand this one after you have
122:349,28[H  ]| seen Miss*Archer.  Suspend your judgement."  
122:349,28['  ]| Madame*Merle,
122:349,29['  ]| as she spoke, had drawn near the open 
122:349,30['  ]| door of the garden, where she stood a moment looking
122:349,31['  ]| out.  
122:349,31[H  ]| "Pansy has really grown pretty," 
122:349,31['  ]| she presently
122:349,32['  ]| added.
122:350,01[C  ]| "So$5#2$ it seemed to$4$ me."
122:350,02[H  ]| "But she has had enough of the convent."
122:350,03[C  ]| "I do not know," 
122:350,03['  ]| said Osmond.  
122:350,03[C  ]| "I like$1$ what they have
122:350,04[C  ]| made of her.  It is very charming."
122:350,05[H  ]| "That$6#2$ is not the convent.  It is the child's nature."
122:350,06[C  ]| "It is the combination, I think.  She is as pure as a
122:350,07[C  ]| pearl."
122:350,08[H  ]| "Why does not she come back with my flowers
122:350,09[H  ]| then?" 
122:350,09['  ]| Madame*Merle asked.  
122:350,09[H  ]| "She is not in$4$ a 
122:350,10[H  ]| hurry."
122:350,11[C  ]| "We will$1$ go and get them."
122:350,12[H  ]| "She does not like$1$ me," 
122:350,12['  ]| the visitor murmured as she
122:350,13['  ]| raised her parasol and they passed into the garden.
123:351,01['  ]| Madame*Merle, who$6#1$ had come to$4$ Florence on$4$
123:351,02['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett's arrival at the invitation of this
123:351,03['  ]| lady ~~ Mrs%*Touchett offering her for$4$ a month the 
123:351,04['  ]| hospitality of Palazzo*Crescentini ~~ the judicious
123:351,05['  ]| Madame*Merle spoke to$4$ Isabel afresh about Gilbert*Osmond
123:351,06['  ]| and expressed the hope she might know
123:351,07['  ]| him; making, however, no$2$ such point of the matter
123:351,08['  ]| as we have seen her do in$4$ recommending the girl
123:351,09['  ]| herself to$4$ Mr%*Osmond's attention.  The reason of 
123:351,10['  ]| this was perhaps that$3$ Isabel offered no$2$ resistance
123:351,11['  ]| whatever to$4$ Madame*Merle's proposal.  In$4$ Italy,
123:351,12['  ]| as in$4$ England, the lady had a multitude of friends,
123:351,13['  ]| both among the natives of the country and its heterogeneous 
123:351,14['  ]| visitors.  She had mentioned to$4$ Isabel most
123:351,15['  ]| of the people the girl would find it well to$9$ "meet"
123:351,16['  ]| ~~ 
123:351,16@h   | of course, 
123:351,16['  ]| she said, 
123:351,16@h   | Isabel could know whomever
123:351,17@h   | in$4$ the wide world she would ~~ 
123:351,17['  ]| and had placed Mr%*Osmond
123:351,18['  ]| near the top of the list.  
123:351,18@h   | He was an old 
123:351,19@h   | friend of her own; she had known him these dozen
123:351,20@h   | years; he was one of the cleverest and most
123:351,21@h   | agreeable men ~~ well, in$4$ Europe simply.  He was
123:351,22@h   | altogether above the respectable average; quite
123:351,23@h   | another affair.  He was not a professional charmer ~~
123:351,24@h   | far from it, and the effect he produced depended a 
123:351,25@h   | good deal on$4$ the state of his nerves and his spirits.
123:351,26@h   | When not in$4$ the right mood he could fall as low as
123:351,27@h   | any*one, saved only by$4$ his looking at such hours
123:352,01@h   | rather like$4$ a demoralised prince in$4$ exile.  But if he cared
123:352,02@h   | or was interested or rightly challenged ~~ just exactly
123:352,03@h   | rightly it had to$9$ be ~~ then one felt his cleverness and
123:352,04@h   | his distinction.  Those qualities did not depend, in$4$
123:352,05@h   | him, as in$4$ so$5#1$ many people, on$4$ his not committing or
123:352,06@h   | exposing himself.  He had his perversities ~~ which$6#1$
123:352,07@h   | indeed Isabel would find to$9$ be the case with all the 
123:352,08@h   | men really worth knowing ~~ and did not cause his
123:352,09@h   | light to$9$ shine equally for$4$ all persons.  
123:352,09['  ]| Madame*Merle,
123:352,10['  ]| however, thought 
123:352,10@h   | she could undertake that$3$  
123:352,11@h   | for$4$ Isabel he would be brilliant.  He was easily
123:352,12@h   | bored, too easily, and dull people always put him
123:352,13@h   | out; but a quick and cultivated girl like$4$ Isabel would
123:352,14@h   | give him a stimulus which$6#1$ was too absent from his
123:352,15@h   | life.  At any rate he was a person not to$9$ miss.  One
123:352,16@h   | should not attempt to$9$ live in$4$ Italy without making
123:352,17@h   | a friend of Gilbert*Osmond, who$6#1$ knew more about
123:352,18@h   | the country than any*one except two or three German 
123:352,19@h   | professors.  And if they had more knowledge
123:352,20@h   | than he it was he who$6#1$ had most perception and taste
123:352,21@h   | ~~ being artistic through and through.  
123:352,21['  ]| Isabel remembered
123:352,22['  ]| that$3$ her friend had spoken of him during 
123:352,23['  ]| their plunge, at Gardencourt, into the deeps of talk,
123:352,24['  ]| and wondered a little 
123:352,24@a   | what was the nature of the tie
123:352,25@a   | binding these superior spirits.  
123:352,25['  ]| She felt that$3$ 
123:352,25@a   | Madame*Merle's
123:352,26@a   | ties always somehow had histories, and such
123:352,27@a   | an impression was part of the interest created by$4$
123:352,28@a   | this inordinate woman.  
123:352,28['  ]| As regards her relations
123:352,29['  ]| with Mr%*Osmond, however, she hinted at nothing
123:352,30['  ]| but a long-established calm friendship.  Isabel said
123:352,31@a   | she should be happy to$9$ know a person who$6#1$ had enjoyed
123:352,32@a   | so$5#1$ high a confidence for$4$ so$5#1$ many years.  
123:352,32[H  ]| "You
123:353,01[H  ]| ought to$9$ see a great many men," 
123:352,01['  ]| Madame*Merle remarked;
123:353,02[H  ]| "you ought to$9$ see as many as possible, so$3$
123:353,03[H  ]| as to$9$ get used to$4$ them."
123:353,04[A  ]| "Used to$4$ them?" 
123:352,04['  ]| Isabel repeated with that$6#2$ solemn
123:353,05['  ]| stare which$6#1$ sometimes seemed to$9$ proclaim her
123:353,06['  ]| deficient in$4$ the sense of comedy.  
123:352,06[A  ]| "Why, I am not
123:353,07[A  ]| afraid of them ~~ I am as used to$4$ them as the cook 
123:353,08[A  ]| to$4$ the butcher-boys."
123:353,09[H  ]| "Used to$4$ them, I mean, so$3$ as to$9$ despise them.
123:353,10[H  ]| That$6#2$ is what one comes to$4$ with most of them.  You will$1$
123:353,11[H  ]| pick out, for$4$ your society, the few whom you do not
123:353,12[H  ]| despise."
123:353,13['  ]| This was a note of cynicism that$6#1$ Madame*Merle
123:353,14['  ]| did not often allow herself to$9$ sound; but Isabel
123:353,15['  ]| was not alarmed, for$3$ she had never supposed that$3$
123:353,16['  ]| as one saw more of the world the sentiment of respect 
123:353,17['  ]| became the most active of one's emotions.  It
123:353,18['  ]| was excited, none the less, by$4$ the beautiful city of
123:353,19['  ]| Florence, which$6#1$ pleased her not less than Madame*Merle
123:353,20['  ]| had promised; and if her unassisted perception
123:353,21['  ]| had not been able to$9$ gauge its charms she had
123:353,22['  ]| clever companions as priests to$4$ the mystery.  She
123:353,23['  ]| was in$4$ no$2$ want indeed of aesthetic illumination, for$3$ 
123:353,24['  ]| Ralph found it a joy that$6#1$ renewed his own early
123:353,25['  ]| passion to$9$ act as cicerone to$4$ his eager young kinswoman.
123:353,26['  ]| Madame*Merle remained at home; she
123:353,27['  ]| had seen the treasures of Florence again and again
123:353,28['  ]| and had always something else to$9$ do.  But she talked
123:353,29['  ]| of all things with remarkable vividness of memory
123:353,30['  ]| ~~ she recalled the right-hand corner of the large
123:353,31['  ]| Perugino and the position of the hands of the Saint*Elizabeth
123:353,32['  ]| in$4$ the picture next to$4$ it.  She had her
123:354,01['  ]| opinions as to$4$ the character of many famous
123:354,02['  ]| works of art, differing often from Ralph with great 
123:354,03['  ]| sharpness and defending her interpretations with
123:354,04['  ]| as much ingenuity as good-humour.  Isabel listened
123:354,05['  ]| to$4$ the discussions taking place between the two
123:354,06['  ]| with a sense that$3$ 
123:354,06@a   | she might derive much benefit
123:354,07@a   | from them and that$3$ they were among the advantages 
123:354,08@a   | she could not have enjoyed for$4$ instance in$4$ 
123:354,09@a   | Albany.  
123:354,09['  ]| In$4$ the clear May mornings before the
123:354,10['  ]| formal breakfast ~~ this repast at Mrs%*Touchett's
123:354,11['  ]| was served at twelve o'clock ~~ she wandered with
123:354,12['  ]| her cousin through the narrow and sombre Florentine
123:354,13['  ]| streets, resting a while in$4$ the thicker dusk of some
123:354,14['  ]| historic church or the vaulted chambers of some
123:354,15['  ]| dispeopled convent.  She went to$4$ the galleries and 
123:354,16['  ]| palaces; she looked at the pictures and statues that$6#1$ 
123:354,17['  ]| had hitherto been great names to$4$ her, and exchanged
123:354,18['  ]| for$4$ a knowledge which$6#1$ was sometimes a limitation
123:354,19['  ]| a presentiment which$6#1$ proved usually to$9$ have been
123:354,20['  ]| a blank.  She performed all those acts of mental
123:354,21['  ]| prostration in$4$ which$6#1$, on$4$ a first visit to$4$ Italy, youth
123:354,22['  ]| and enthusiasm so$5#1$ freely indulge; she felt her heart 
123:354,23['  ]| beat in$4$ the presence of immortal genius and knew
123:354,24['  ]| the sweetness of rising tears in$4$ eyes to$4$ which$6#1$ faded
123:354,25['  ]| fresco and darkened marble grew dim.  But the return,
123:354,26['  ]| every day, was even pleasanter than the going forth;
123:354,27['  ]| the return into the wide, monumental court of the
123:354,28['  ]| great house in$4$ which$6#1$ Mrs%*Touchett, many years
123:354,29['  ]| before, had established herself, and into the high,
123:354,30['  ]| cool rooms where the carven rafters and pompous
123:354,31['  ]| frescoes of the sixteenth century looked down on$4$
123:354,32['  ]| the familiar commodities of the age of advertisement.
123:355,01['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett inhabited an historic building
123:355,02['  ]| in$4$ a narrow street whose very name recalled the 
123:355,03['  ]| strife of mediaeval factions; and found compensation
123:355,04['  ]| for$4$ the darkness of her frontage in$4$ the modicity
123:355,05['  ]| of her rent and the brightness of a garden where
123:355,06['  ]| nature itself looked as archaic as the rugged architecture 
123:355,07['  ]| of the palace and which$6#1$ cleared and scented
123:355,08['  ]| the rooms in$4$ regular use.  To$9$ live in$4$ such a place
123:355,09['  ]| was, for$4$ Isabel, to$9$ hold to$4$ her ear all day a shell of 
123:355,10['  ]| the sea of the past.  This vague eternal rumour kept
123:355,11['  ]| her imagination awake.
123:355,12['  ]| Gilbert*Osmond came to$9$ see Madame*Merle,
123:355,13['  ]| who$6#1$ presented him to$4$ the young lady lurking at the 
123:355,14['  ]| other side of the room.  Isabel took on$4$ this occasion
123:355,15['  ]| little part in$4$ the talk; she scarcely even smiled when
123:355,16['  ]| the others turned to$4$ her invitingly; she sat there
123:355,17['  ]| as if she had been at the play and had paid even a 
123:355,18['  ]| large sum for$4$ her place.  Mrs%*Touchett was not
123:355,19['  ]| present, and these two had it, for$4$ the effect of brilliancy,
123:355,20['  ]| all their own way.  They talked of the Florentine,
123:355,21['  ]| the Roman, the cosmopolite world, and might
123:355,22['  ]| have been distinguished performers figuring for$4$ a 
123:355,23['  ]| charity.  It all had the rich readiness that$6#1$ would
123:355,24['  ]| have come from rehearsal.  Madame*Merle appealed
123:355,25['  ]| to$4$ her as if she had been on$4$ the stage, but she could
123:355,26['  ]| ignore any learnt cue without spoiling the scene ~~
123:355,27['  ]| though of course she thus put dreadfully in$4$ the 
123:355,28['  ]| wrong the friend who$6#1$ had told Mr%*Osmond she
123:355,29['  ]| could be depended on$5$.  This was no$2$ matter for$4$ once;
123:355,30['  ]| even if more had been involved she could have made
123:355,31['  ]| no$2$ attempt to$9$ shine.  There was something in$4$ the 
123:355,32['  ]| visitor that$6#1$ checked her and held her in$4$ suspense ~~
123:356,01['  ]| made it more important she should get an impression
123:356,02['  ]| of him than that$3$ she should produce one herself.
123:356,03['  ]| Besides, she had little skill in$4$ producing an impression
123:356,04['  ]| which$6#1$ she knew to$9$ be expected: nothing could be
123:356,05['  ]| happier, in$4$ general, than to$9$ seem dazzling, but she
123:356,06['  ]| had a perverse unwillingness to$9$ glitter by$4$ arrangement.
123:356,07['  ]| Mr%*Osmond, to$9$ do him justice, had a well-bred 
123:356,08['  ]| air of expecting nothing, a quiet ease that$6#1$ covered
123:356,09['  ]| everything, even the first show of his own wit.  
123:356,09@a   | This
123:356,10@a   | was the more grateful as his face, his head, was sensitive;
123:356,11@a   | he was not handsome, but he was fine, as
123:356,12@a   | fine as one of the drawings in$4$ the long gallery above 
123:356,13@a   | the bridge of the Uffizi.  And his very voice was fine
123:356,14@a   | ~~ the more strangely that$3$, with its clearness, it
123:356,15@a   | yet somehow was not sweet.  
123:356,15['  ]| This had had really to$9$
123:356,16['  ]| do with making her abstain from interference.  
123:356,16@a   | His
123:356,17@a   | utterance was the vibration of glass, and if she had
123:356,18@a   | put out her finger she might have changed the pitch
123:356,19@a   | and spoiled the concert.  Yet before he went she
123:356,20@a   | had to$9$ speak.
123:356,21[C  ]| "Madame*Merle," 
123:356,21['  ]| he said, 
123:356,21[C  ]| "consents to$9$ come
123:356,22[C  ]| up$5$ to$4$ my hill-top some day next week and drink tea
123:356,23[C  ]| in$4$ my garden.  It would give me much pleasure
123:356,24[C  ]| if you would come with her.  It is thought rather
123:356,25[C  ]| pretty ~~ there is what they call a general view.  My
123:356,26[C  ]| daughter too would be so$5#1$ glad ~~ or rather, for$3$ she is
123:356,27[C  ]| too young to$9$ have strong emotions, \I\ should be so$5#1$
123:356,28[C  ]| glad ~~ so$5#1$ very glad."  
123:356,28['  ]| And Mr%*Osmond paused
123:356,29['  ]| with a slight air of embarrassment, leaving his sentence
123:356,30['  ]| unfinished.  
123:356,30[C  ]| "I should be so$5#1$ happy if you could
123:356,31[C  ]| know my daughter," 
123:356,31['  ]| he went on$5$ a moment afterwards.
123:356,32['  ]| 
123:357,01['  ]| Isabel replied that$3$ 
123:357,01@a   | she should be delighted to$9$ see
123:357,02@a   | Miss*Osmond and that$3$ if Madame*Merle would
123:357,03@a   | show her the way to$4$ the hill-top she should be very
123:357,04@a   | grateful.  
123:357,04['  ]| Upon$4$ this assurance the visitor took his
123:357,05['  ]| leave; after which$6#1$ Isabel fully expected her friend
123:357,06['  ]| would scold her for$4$ having been so$5#1$ stupid.  But to$4$ 
123:357,07['  ]| her surprise that$6#2$ lady, who$6#1$ indeed never fell into the 
123:357,08['  ]| mere matter-of-course, said to$4$ her in$4$ a few moments:
123:357,09[H  ]| "You were charming, my dear; you were just as
123:357,10[H  ]| one would have wished you.  You are never disappointing."
123:357,11[H  ]|
123:357,12['  ]| A rebuke might possibly have been irritating,
123:357,13['  ]| though it is much more probable that$3$ Isabel would
123:357,14['  ]| have taken it in$4$ good part; but, strange to$9$ say, the
123:357,15['  ]| words that$6#1$ Madame*Merle actually used caused
123:357,16['  ]| her the first feeling of displeasure she had known
123:357,17['  ]| this ally to$9$ excite.  
123:357,17[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is more than I intended,"
123:357,18['  ]| she answered coldly.  
123:357,18[A  ]| "I am under no$2$ obligation that$6#1$
123:357,19[A  ]| I know of to$9$ charm Mr%*Osmond."
123:357,20['  ]| Madame*Merle perceptibly flushed, but we know
123:357,21['  ]| it was not her habit to$9$ retract.  
123:357,21[H  ]| "My dear child,
123:357,22[H  ]| I did not speak for$4$ him, poor man; I spoke for$4$ yourself.
123:357,23[H  ]| It is not of course a question as to$4$ his liking you;
123:357,24[H  ]| it matters little whether he likes you or not!  But
123:357,25[H  ]| I thought you liked \him\."
123:357,26[A  ]| "I did," 
123:357,26['  ]| said Isabel honestly.  
123:357,26[A  ]| "But I do not see
123:357,27[A  ]| what that$6#2$ matters either."
123:357,28[H  ]| "Everything that$6#1$ concerns you matters to$4$ me,"
123:357,29['  ]| Madame*Merle returned with her weary nobleness;
123:357,30[H  ]| "especially when at the same time another old friend's
123:357,31[H  ]| concerned."
123:357,32['  ]| Whatever Isabel's obligations may have been to$4$ 
123:358,01['  ]| Mr%*Osmond, it must be admitted that$3$ she found
123:358,02['  ]| them sufficient to$9$ lead her to$9$ put to$4$ Ralph sundry
123:358,03['  ]| questions about him.  She thought Ralph's judgements
123:358,04['  ]| distorted by$4$ his trials, but she flattered herself
123:358,05['  ]| she had learned to$9$ make allowance for$4$ that$6#2$.
123:358,06[B  ]| "Do I know him?" 
123:358,06['  ]| said her cousin.  
123:358,06[B  ]| "Oh, yes,
123:358,07[B  ]| I ""know"" him; not well, but on$4$ the whole enough.
123:358,08[B  ]| I have never cultivated his society, and he apparently
123:358,09[B  ]| has never found mine indispensable to$4$ his happiness.
123:358,10[B  ]| Who$6#2$ is he, what is he?  He is a vague, unexplained
123:358,11[B  ]| American who$6#1$ has been living these thirty years,
123:358,12[B  ]| or less, in$4$ Italy.  Why do I call him unexplained?
123:358,13[B  ]| Only as a cover for$4$ my ignorance; I do not know his
123:358,14[B  ]| antecedents, his family, his origin.  For$4$ all I do know
123:358,15[B  ]| he may be a prince in$4$ disguise; he rather looks like$4$
123:358,16[B  ]| one, by$4$ the way ~~ like$4$ a prince who$6#1$ has abdicated
123:358,17[B  ]| in$4$ a fit of fastidiousness and has been in$4$ a state of
123:358,18[B  ]| disgust ever since.  He used to$9$ live in$4$ Rome; but of
123:358,19[B  ]| late years he has taken up$5$ his abode here; I remember
123:358,20[B  ]| hearing him say that$3$ Rome has grown vulgar.
123:358,21[B  ]| He has a great dread of vulgarity; that$6#2$ is his special
123:358,22[B  ]| line; he has not any other that$6#1$ I know of.  He lives
123:358,23[B  ]| on$4$ his income, which$6#1$ I suspect of not being vulgarly 
123:358,24[B  ]| large.  He is a poor but honest gentleman ~~ 
123:358,25[B  ]| that$6#2$ is what he calls himself.  He married young and 
123:358,26[B  ]| lost his wife, and I believe he has a daughter.  He
123:358,27[B  ]| also has a sister, who$6#1$ is married to$4$ some small Count
123:358,28[B  ]| or other, of these parts; I remember meeting her of
123:358,29[B  ]| old.  She is nicer than he, I should think, but rather
123:358,30[B  ]| impossible.  I remember there used to$9$ be some stories 
123:358,31[B  ]| about her.  I do not think I recommend you to$9$ 
123:358,32[B  ]| know her.  But why do not you ask Madame*Merle
123:359,01[B  ]| about these people?  She knows them all much better
123:359,02[B  ]| than I."
123:359,03[A  ]| "I ask you because I want your opinion as well as
123:359,04[A  ]| hers," 
123:359,04['  ]| said Isabel.
123:359,05[B  ]| "A fig for$4$ my opinion!  If you fall in$4$ love with Mr%*Osmond 
123:359,06[B  ]| what will$1$ you care for$4$ that$6#2$?"
123:359,07[A  ]| "Not much, probably.  But meanwhile it has a 
123:359,08[A  ]| certain importance.  The more information one has
123:359,09[A  ]| about one's dangers the better."
123:359,10[B  ]| "I do not agree to$4$ that$6#2$ ~~ it may make them dangers.
123:359,11[B  ]| We know too much about people in$4$ these days; we
123:359,12[B  ]| hear too much.  Our ears, our minds, our mouths,
123:359,13[B  ]| are stuffed with personalities.  Do not mind anything
123:359,14[B  ]| any*one tells you about any*one else.  Judge every*one
123:359,15[B  ]| and everything for$4$ yourself."
123:359,16[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is what I try to$9$ do," 
123:359,16['  ]| said Isabel; 
123:359,16[A  ]| "but
123:359,17[A  ]| when you do that$6#2$ people call you conceited."
123:359,18[B  ]| "You are not to$9$ mind them ~~ that$6#2$ is precisely
123:359,19[B  ]| my argument; not to$9$ mind what they say about 
123:359,20[B  ]| yourself any more than what they say about your
123:359,21[B  ]| friend or your enemy."
123:359,22['  ]| Isabel considered.  
123:359,22[A  ]| "I think you are right; but there
123:359,23[A  ]| are some things I can not help minding: for$4$ instance
123:359,24[A  ]| when my friend is attacked or when I myself am 
123:359,25[A  ]| praised."
123:359,26[B  ]| "Of course you are always at liberty to$9$ judge the
123:359,27[B  ]| critic.  Judge people as critics, however," 
123:359,27['  ]| Ralph
123:359,28['  ]| added, 
123:359,28[B  ]| "and you will$1$ condemn them all!"
123:359,29[A  ]| "I shall see Mr%*Osmond for$4$ myself," 
123:359,29['  ]| said Isabel.
123:359,30[A  ]| "I have promised to$9$ pay him a visit."
123:359,31[B  ]| "To$9$ pay him a visit?"
123:359,32[A  ]| "To$9$ go and see his view, his pictures, his daughter
123:360,01[A  ]| ~~ I do not know exactly what.  Madame*Merle is
123:360,02[A  ]| to$9$ take me; she tells me a great many ladies call
123:360,03[A  ]| on$4$ him."
123:360,04[B  ]| "Ah, with Madame*Merle you may go anywhere,
123:360,05[B  ]| \9de*confiance\," 
123:360,05['  ]| said Ralph.  
123:360,05[B  ]| "She knows none but 
123:360,06[B  ]| the best people."
123:360,07['  ]| Isabel said no$2$ more about Mr%*Osmond, but she
123:360,08['  ]| presently remarked to$4$ her cousin that$3$ 
123:360,08@a   | she was not
123:360,09@a   | satisfied with his tone about Madame*Merle.  
123:360,09[A  ]| "It
123:360,10[A  ]| seems to$4$ me you insinuate things about her.  I do not
123:360,11[A  ]| know what you mean, but if you have any grounds
123:360,12[A  ]| for$4$ disliking her I think you should either mention
123:360,13[A  ]| them frankly or else say nothing at all."
123:360,14['  ]| Ralph, however, resented this charge with more
123:360,15['  ]| apparent earnestness than he commonly used.  
123:360,15[B  ]| "I
123:360,16[B  ]| speak of Madame*Merle exactly as I speak \to$4$\ her:
123:360,17[B  ]| with an even exaggerated respect."
123:360,18[A  ]| "Exaggerated, precisely.  That$6#2$ is what I complain 
123:360,19[A  ]| of."
123:360,20[B  ]| "I do so$5#2$ because Madame*Merle's merits are
123:360,21[B  ]| exaggerated."
123:360,22[A  ]| "By$4$ whom, pray?  By$4$ me?  If so$5#2$ I do her a poor
123:360,23[A  ]| service."
123:360,24[B  ]| "No$7$, no$7$; by$4$ herself."
123:360,25[A  ]| "Ah, I protest!" 
123:360,25['  ]| Isabel earnestly cried.  
123:360,25[A  ]| "If ever
123:360,26[A  ]| there was a woman who$6#1$ made small claims ~~ !"
123:360,27[B  ]| "You put your finger on$4$ it," 
123:360,27['  ]| Ralph interrupted.
123:360,28[B  ]| "Her modesty is exaggerated.  She has no$2$ business
123:360,29[B  ]| with small claims ~~ she has a perfect right to$9$ make
123:360,30[B  ]| large ones."
123:360,31[A  ]| "Her merits are large then.  You contradict yourself."
123:360,32[A  ]|   
123:361,01[B  ]| "Her merits are immense," 
123:361,01['  ]| said Ralph.  
123:361,01[B  ]| "She is
123:361,02[B  ]| indescribably blameless; a pathless desert of virtue;
123:361,03[B  ]| the only woman I know who$6#1$ never gives one a chance."
123:361,04[A  ]| "A chance for$4$ what?"
123:361,05[B  ]| "Well, say to$9$ call her a fool!  She is the only
123:361,06[B  ]| woman I know who$6#1$ has but that$6#2$ one little fault."
123:361,07['  ]| Isabel turned away with impatience.  
123:361,07[A  ]| "I do not
123:361,08[A  ]| understand you; you are too paradoxical for$4$ my plain
123:361,09[A  ]| mind."
123:361,10[B  ]| "Let me explain.  When I say she exaggerates
123:361,11[B  ]| I do not mean it in$4$ the vulgar sense ~~ that$3$ she
123:361,12[B  ]| boasts, overstates, gives too fine an account of herself.
123:361,13[B  ]| I mean literally that$3$ she pushes the search for$4$
123:361,14[B  ]| perfection too far ~~ that$3$ her merits are in$4$ themselves
123:361,15[B  ]| overstrained.  She is too good, too kind, too clever,
123:361,16[B  ]| too learned, too accomplished, too everything.
123:361,17[B  ]| She is too complete, in$4$ a word.  I confess to$4$ you that$3$
123:361,18[B  ]| she acts on$4$ my nerves and that$3$ I feel about her a 
123:361,19[B  ]| good deal as that$6#2$ intensely human Athenian felt
123:361,20[B  ]| about Aristides the Just."
123:361,21['  ]| Isabel looked hard at her cousin; but the mocking
123:361,22['  ]| spirit, if it lurked in$4$ his words, failed on$4$ this occasion
123:361,23['  ]| to$9$ peep from his face.  
123:361,23[A  ]| "Do you wish Madame*Merle
123:361,24[A  ]| to$9$ be banished?"
123:361,25[B  ]| "By$4$ no$2$ means.  She is much too good company.
123:361,26[B  ]| I delight in$4$ Madame*Merle," 
123:361,26['  ]| said Ralph*Touchett
123:361,27['  ]| simply.
123:361,28[A  ]| "You are very odious, sir!"  
123:361,28['  ]| Isabel exclaimed.
123:361,29['  ]| And then she asked him if he knew anything that$6#1$
123:361,30['  ]| was not to$4$ the honour of her brilliant friend.
123:361,31[B  ]| "Nothing whatever.  Do not you see that$6#2$ is just
123:361,32[B  ]| what I mean?  On$4$ the character of every*one else
123:362,01[B  ]| you may find some little black speck; if I were to$9$
123:362,02[B  ]| take half an hour to$4$ it, some day, I have no$2$ doubt
123:362,03[B  ]| I should be able to$9$ find one on$4$ yours.  For$4$ my own,
123:362,04[B  ]| of course, I am spotted like$4$ a leopard.  But on$4$ Madame*Merle's
123:362,05[B  ]| nothing, nothing, nothing!"
123:362,06[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is just what I think!" 
123:361,06['  ]| said Isabel with a 
123:362,07['  ]| toss of her head.  
123:362,07[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is why I like$1$ her so$5#1$ much."
123:362,08[B  ]| "She is a capital person for$4$ you to$9$ know.  Since
123:362,09[B  ]| you wish to$9$ see the world you could not have a 
123:362,10[B  ]| better guide."
123:362,11[A  ]| "I suppose you mean by$4$ that$6#2$ that$3$ she is worldly?"
123:362,12[B  ]| "Worldly?  No$7$," 
123:362,12['  ]| said Ralph, 
123:362,12[B  ]| "she is the great
123:362,13[B  ]| round world itself!"
123:362,14['  ]| It had certainly not, as Isabel for$4$ the moment
123:362,15['  ]| took it into her head to$9$ believe, been a refinement
123:362,16['  ]| of malice in$4$ him to$9$ say that$3$ he delighted in$4$ Madame*Merle.
123:362,17['  ]| Ralph*Touchett took his refreshment 
123:362,18['  ]| wherever he could find it, and he would not have
123:362,19['  ]| forgiven himself if he had been left wholly unbeguiled 
123:362,20['  ]| by$4$ such a mistress of the social art.  There
123:362,21['  ]| are deep-lying sympathies and antipathies, and it
123:362,22['  ]| may have been that$3$, in$4$ spite of the administered
123:362,23['  ]| justice she enjoyed at his hands, her absence from
123:362,24['  ]| his mother's house would not have made life barren
123:362,25['  ]| to$4$ him.  But Ralph*Touchett had learned more or
123:362,26['  ]| less inscrutably to$9$ attend, and there could have been
123:362,27['  ]| nothing so$5#1$ "sustained" to$9$ attend to$4$ as the general
123:362,28['  ]| performance of Madame*Merle.  He tasted her in$4$
123:362,29['  ]| sips, he let her stand, with an opportuneness she
123:362,30['  ]| herself could not have surpassed.  There were moments 
123:362,31['  ]| when he felt almost sorry for$4$ her; and these,
123:362,32['  ]| oddly enough, were the moments when his kindness
123:363,01['  ]| was least demonstrative.  He was sure 
123:363,01@b   | she had been
123:363,02@b   | yearningly ambitious and that$3$ what she had visibly
123:363,03@b   | accomplished was far below her secret measure.
123:363,04@b   | She had got herself into perfect training, but had
123:363,05@b   | won none of the prizes.  She was always plain Madame*Merle,
123:363,06@b   | the widow of a Swiss \9ne=gociant\, with a small
123:363,07@b   | income and a large acquaintance, who$6#1$ stayed with
123:363,08@b   | people a great deal and was almost as universally
123:363,09@b   | "liked" as some new volume of smooth twaddle.
123:363,10['  ]| The contrast between this position and any*one of
123:363,11['  ]| some half-dozen others that$6#1$ he supposed to$9$ have at
123:363,12['  ]| various moments engaged her hope had an element of
123:363,13['  ]| the tragical.  His mother thought he got on$5$ beautifully
123:363,14['  ]| with their genial guest; to$4$ Mrs%*Touchett's sense
123:363,15['  ]| two persons who$6#1$ dealt so$5#1$ largely in$4$ too-ingenious
123:363,16['  ]| theories of conduct ~~ that$6#2$ is of their own ~~ would
123:363,17['  ]| have much in$4$ common.  He had given due consideration
123:363,18['  ]| to$4$ Isabel's intimacy with her eminent friend,
123:363,19['  ]| having long since made up$5$ his mind that$3$ he could
123:363,20['  ]| not, without opposition, keep his cousin to$4$ himself;
123:363,21['  ]| and he made the best of it, as he had done of worse
123:363,22['  ]| things.  He believed 
123:363,22@b   | it would take care of itself; it
123:363,23@b   | would not last forever.  Neither of these two superior
123:363,24@b   | persons knew the other as well as she supposed, and
123:363,25@b   | when each had made an important discovery or two
123:363,26@b   | there would be, if not a rupture, at least a relaxation.
123:363,27['  ]| Meanwhile he was quite willing to$9$ admit that$3$ 
123:363,27@b   | the 
123:363,28@b   | conversation of the elder lady was an advantage
123:363,29@b   | to$4$ the younger, who$6#1$ had a great deal to$9$ learn and
123:363,30@b   | would doubltess learn it better from Madame*Merle
123:363,31@b   | than from some other instructors of the young.  It
123:363,32@b   | was not probable that$3$ Isabel would be injured.
124:364,01['  ]| It would certainly have been hard to$9$ see what injury
124:364,02['  ]| could arise to$4$ her from the visit she presently paid
124:364,03['  ]| to$4$ Mr%*Osmond's hill-top.  Nothing could have been
124:364,04['  ]| more charming than this occasion ~~ a soft afternoon
124:364,05['  ]| in$4$ the full maturity of the Tuscan spring.  The 
124:364,06['  ]| companions drove out of the Roman Gate, beneath
124:364,07['  ]| the enormous blank superstructure which$6#1$ crowns the
124:364,08['  ]| fine clear arch of that$6#2$ portal and makes it nakedly
124:364,09['  ]| impressive, and wound between high-walled lanes
124:364,10['  ]| into which$6#1$ the wealth of blossoming orchards over-drooped
124:364,11['  ]| and flung a fragrance, until they reached the 
124:364,12['  ]| small superurban piazza, of crooked shape, where
124:364,13['  ]| the long brown wall of the villa occupied in$4$ part by$4$
124:364,14['  ]| Mr%*Osmond formed a principal, or at least a very
124:364,15['  ]| imposing, object.  Isabel went with her friend through
124:364,16['  ]| a wide, high court, where a clear shadow rested below
124:364,17['  ]| and a pair of light-arched galleries, facing each other
124:364,18['  ]| above, caught the upper sunshine upon$4$ their slim
124:364,19['  ]| columns and the flowering plants in$4$ which$6#1$ they were
124:364,20['  ]| dressed.  There was something grave and strong in$4$ 
124:364,21['  ]| the place; it looked somehow as if, once you were in$5$,
124:364,22['  ]| you would need an act of energy to$9$ get out.  For$4$ Isabel,
124:364,23['  ]| however, there was of course as yet no$2$ thought of 
124:364,24['  ]| getting out, but only of advancing.  Mr%*Osmond met
124:364,25['  ]| her in$4$ the cold ante-chamber ~~ it was cold even in$4$
124:364,26['  ]| the month of May ~~ and ushered her, with her conductress,
124:364,27['  ]| into the apartment to$4$ which$6#1$ we have already
124:365,01['  ]| been introduced.  Madame*Merle was in$4$ front, and
124:365,02['  ]| while Isabel lingered a little, talking with him, she
124:365,03['  ]| went forward familiarly and greeted two persons who$6#1$ 
124:365,04['  ]| were seated in$4$ the saloon.  One of these was little
124:365,05['  ]| Pansy, on$4$ whom she bestowed a kiss; the other was
124:365,06['  ]| a lady whom Mr%*Osmond indicated to$4$ Isabel as his
124:365,07['  ]| sister, the Countess*Gemini.  
124:365,07[C  ]| "And that$6#2$ is my little
124:365,08[C  ]| girl," 
124:365,08['  ]| he said, 
124:365,08[C  ]| "who$6#1$ has just come out of her convent."
124:365,09['  ]| Pansy had on$5$ a scant white dress, and her fair hair
124:365,10['  ]| was neatly arranged in$4$ a net; she wore her small
124:365,11['  ]| shoes tied sandal-fashion about her ankles.  She made
124:365,12['  ]| Isabel a little conventual curtsey and then came to$9$ be 
124:365,13['  ]| kissed.  The Countess*Gemini simply nodded without
124:365,14['  ]| getting up$5$: Isabel could see she was a woman of
124:365,15['  ]| high fashion.  She was thin and dark and not at all
124:365,16['  ]| pretty, having features that$6#1$ suggested some tropical
124:365,17['  ]| bird ~~ a long beak-like nose, small, quickly-moving
124:365,18['  ]| eyes and a mouth and chin that$6#1$ receded extremely.
124:365,19['  ]| Her expression, however, thanks to$4$ various intensities
124:365,20['  ]| of emphasis and wonder, of horror and joy, was
124:365,21['  ]| not inhuman, and, as regards her appearance, it was 
124:365,22['  ]| plain she understood herself and made the most of her
124:365,23['  ]| points.  Her attire, voluminous and delicate, bristling
124:365,24['  ]| with elegance, had the look of shimmering plumage,
124:365,25['  ]| and her attitudes were as light and sudden as those
124:365,26['  ]| of a creature who$6#1$ perched upon$4$ twigs.  She had a 
124:365,27['  ]| great deal of manner; Isabel, who$6#1$ had never known
124:365,28['  ]| any*one with so$5#1$ much manner, immediately classed
124:365,29['  ]| her as the most affected of women.  She remembered
124:365,30['  ]| that$3$ Ralph had not recommended her as an acquaintance;
124:365,31['  ]| but she was ready to$9$ acknowledge that$3$ to$4$ a
124:365,32['  ]| casual view the Countess Gemini revealed no$2$ depths.
124:366,01['  ]| Her demonstrations suggested the violent waving of 
124:366,02['  ]| some flag of general truce ~~ white silk with fluttering
124:366,03['  ]| streamers.
124:366,04[J  ]| "You will$1$ believe I am glad to$9$ see you when I tell you
124:366,05[J  ]| it is only because I knew you were to$9$ be here that$3$ I 
124:366,06[J  ]| came myself.  I do not come and see my brother ~~
124:366,07[J  ]| I make him come and see me.  This hill of his is impossible
124:366,08[J  ]| ~~ I do not see what possesses him.  Really,
124:366,09[J  ]| Osmond, you will$1$ be the ruin of my horses some day,
124:366,10[J  ]| and if it hurts them you will$1$ have to$9$ give me another
124:366,11[J  ]| pair.  I heard them wheezing to-day; I assure you
124:366,12[J  ]| I did.  It is very disagreeable to$9$ hear one's horses
124:366,13[J  ]| wheezing when one's sitting in$4$ the carriage; it sounds
124:366,14[J  ]| too as if they were not what they should be.  But I have
124:366,15[J  ]| always had good horses; whatever else I may have
124:366,16[J  ]| lacked I have always managed that$6#2$.  My husband
124:366,17[J  ]| does not know much, but I think he knows a horse.
124:366,18[J  ]| In$4$ general Italians do not, but my husband goes in$5$,
124:366,19[J  ]| according to$4$ his poor light, for$4$ everything English.
124:366,20[J  ]| My horses are English ~~ so$3$ it is all the greater pity
124:366,21[J  ]| they should be ruined.  I must tell you," 
124:366,21['  ]| she went on$5$,
124:366,22['  ]| directly addressing Isabel, 
124:366,22[J  ]| "that$3$ Osmond does not
124:366,23[J  ]| often invite me; I do not think he likes to$9$ have me.
124:366,24[J  ]| It was quite my own idea, coming to-day.  I like$1$ to$9$ 
124:366,25[J  ]| see new people, and I am sure you are very new.  But
124:366,26[J  ]| do not sit there; that$6#2$ chair is not what it looks.  There
124:366,27[J  ]| are some very good seats here, but there are also
124:366,28[J  ]| some horrors."
124:366,29['  ]| These remarks were delivered with a series of little
124:366,30['  ]| jerks and pecks, of roulades of shrillness, and in$4$ an
124:366,31['  ]| accent that$6#1$ was as some fond recall of good English,
124:366,32['  ]| or rather of good American, in$4$ adversity.       
124:367,01[C  ]| "I do not like$1$ to$9$ have you, my dear?" 
124:366,01['  ]| said her
124:367,02['  ]| brother.  
124:366,02[C  ]| "I am sure you are invaluable."
124:367,03[A  ]| "I do not see any horrors anywhere," 
124:366,03['  ]| Isabel returned,
124:367,04['  ]| looking about her.  
124:366,04[A  ]| "Everything seems to$4$ me
124:367,05[A  ]| beautiful and precious."
124:367,06[C  ]| "I have a few good things," 
124:366,06['  ]| Mr%*Osmond allowed;
124:367,07[C  ]| "indeed I have nothing very bad.  But I have not what I
124:367,08[C  ]| should have liked."
124:367,09['  ]| He stood there a little awkwardly, smiling and
124:367,10['  ]| glancing about; his manner was an odd mixture of 
124:367,11['  ]| the detached and the involved. He seemed to$9$ hint 
124:367,12['  ]| that$3$ nothing but the right "values" was of any consequence.
124:367,13['  ]| Isabel made a rapid induction: 
124:367,13@a   | perfect simplicity 
124:367,14@a   | was not the badge of his family.   Even the little
124:367,15@a   | girl from the convent, who$6#1$, in$4$ her prim white dress,
124:367,16@a   | with her small submissive face and her hands locked
124:367,17@a   | before her, stood there as if she were about to$9$ partake
124:367,18@a   | of her first communion, even Mr%*Osmond's diminutive
124:367,19@a   | daughter had a kind of finish that$6#1$ was not entirely
124:367,20@a   | artless.
124:367,21[H  ]| "You would have liked a few things from the Uffizi
124:367,22[H  ]| and the Pitti ~~ that$6#2$ is what you would have liked," 
124:367,22['  ]| said
124:367,23['  ]| Madame*Merle.
124:367,24[J  ]| "Poor Osmond, with his old curtains and crucifixes!"
124:367,25['  ]| the Countess*Gemini exclaimed: she appeared
124:367,26['  ]| to$9$ call her brother only by$4$ his family-name.  Her ejaculation
124:367,27['  ]| had no$2$ particular object; she smiled at Isabel
124:367,28['  ]| as she made it and looked at her from head to$4$ foot.
124:367,29['  ]| Her brother had not heard her; he seemed to$9$ be
124:367,30['  ]| thinking what he could say to$4$ Isabel.  
124:367,30[C  ]| "will$1$ not you
124:367,31[C  ]| have some tea? ~~ you must be very tired," 
124:367,31['  ]| he at last
124:367,32['  ]| bethought himself of remarking.
124:368,01[A  ]| "No$7$ indeed, I am not tired; what have I done to$9$ 
124:368,02[A  ]| tire me?" 
124:368,02['  ]| Isabel felt a certain need of being very
124:368,03['  ]| direct, of pretending to$4$ nothing; 
124:368,03@a   | there was something
124:368,04@a   | in$4$ the air, in$4$ her general impression of things ~~ 
124:368,04['  ]| she
124:368,05['  ]| could hardly have said what it was ~~ 
124:368,05@a   | that$6#1$ deprived
124:368,06@a   | her of all disposition to$9$ put herself forward.  The
124:368,07@a   | place, the occasion, the combination of people, signified
124:368,08@a   | more than lay on$4$ the surface; she would try to$9$
124:368,09@a   | understand ~~ she would not simply utter graceful
124:368,10@a   | platitudes.  
124:368,10['  ]| Poor Isabel was doubtless not aware that$3$
124:368,11['  ]| many women would have uttered graceful platitudes
124:368,12['  ]| to$9$ cover the working of their observation.  It must
124:368,13['  ]| be confessed that$3$ her pride was a trifle alarmed.  A
124:368,14['  ]| man she had heard spoken of in$4$ terms that$6#1$ excited
124:368,15['  ]| interest and who$6#1$ was evidently capable of distinguishing
124:368,16['  ]| himself, had invited her, a young lady not lavish
124:368,17['  ]| of her favours, to$9$ come to$4$ his house.  Now that$3$ she
124:368,18['  ]| had done so$5#2$ the burden of the entertainment rested
124:368,19['  ]| naturally on$4$ his wit.  Isabel was not rendered less
124:368,20['  ]| observant, and for$4$ the moment, we judge, she was
124:368,21['  ]| not rendered more indulgent, by$4$ perceiving that$3$ Mr%*Osmond
124:368,22['  ]| carried his burden less complacently than
124:368,23['  ]| might have been expected.  
124:368,23@a   | "What a fool I was to$9$
124:368,24@a   | have let myself so$5#1$ needlessly in$5$ ~~ !" 
124:368,24['  ]| she could fancy
124:368,25['  ]| his exclaiming to$4$ himself.
124:368,26[J  ]| "You will$1$ be tired when you go home, if he shows
124:368,27[J  ]| you all his bibelots and gives you a lecture on$4$ each,"
124:368,28['  ]| said the Countess*Gemini.
124:368,29[A  ]| "I am not afraid of that$6#2$; but if I am tired I shall at
124:368,30[A  ]| least have learned something."
124:368,31[C  ]| "Very little, I suspect.  But my sister is dreadfully
124:368,32[C  ]| afraid of learning anything," 
124:368,32['  ]| said Mr%*Osmond.
124:369,01[J  ]| "Oh, I confess to$4$ that$6#2$; I do not want to$9$ know anything
124:369,02[J  ]| more ~~ I know too much already.  The more
124:369,03[J  ]| you know the more unhappy you are."
124:369,04[H  ]| "You should not undervalue knowledge before
124:369,05[H  ]| Pansy, who$6#1$ has not finished her education," 
124:369,05['  ]| Madame*Merle 
124:369,06['  ]| interposed with a smile.
124:369,07[C  ]| "Pansy will$1$ never know any harm," 
124:369,07['  ]| said the child's
124:369,08['  ]| father.  
124:369,08[C  ]| "Pansy is a little convent-flower."
124:369,09[J  ]| "Oh, the convents, the convents!" 
124:369,09['  ]| cried the
124:369,10['  ]| Countess with a flutter of her ruffles.  
124:369,10[J  ]| "Speak to$4$ me
124:369,11[J  ]| of the convents!  You may learn anything there; I am
124:369,12[J  ]| a convent-flower myself.  I do not pretend to$9$ be good,
124:369,13[J  ]| but the nuns do.  Do not you see what I mean?" 
124:369,13['  ]| she
124:369,14['  ]| went on$5$, appealing to$4$ Isabel.
124:369,15['  ]| Isabel was not sure she saw, and she answered that$3$
124:369,16@a   | she was very bad at following arguments.  
124:369,16['  ]| The
124:369,17['  ]| Countess then declared that$3$ 
124:369,17@j   | she herself detested arguments,
124:369,18@j   | but that$3$ this was her brother's taste ~~ he
124:369,19@j   | would always discuss.  
124:369,19[J  ]| "For$4$ me," 
124:369,19['  ]| she said, 
124:369,19[J  ]| "one
124:369,20[J  ]| should like$1$ a thing or one should not; one can not like$1$
124:369,21[J  ]| everything, of course.  But one should not attempt to$9$
124:369,22[J  ]| reason it out ~~ you never know where it may lead 
124:369,23[J  ]| you.  There are some very good feelings that$6#1$ may have 
124:369,24[J  ]| bad reasons, do not you know?  And then there are
124:369,25[J  ]| very bad feelings, sometimes, that$6#1$ have good reasons.
124:369,26[J  ]| Do not you see what I mean?  I do not care anything
124:369,27[J  ]| about reasons, but I know what I like$1$."
124:369,28[A  ]| "Ah, that$6#2$ is the great thing," 
124:369,28['  ]| said Isabel, smiling
124:369,29['  ]| and suspecting that$3$ her acquaintance with this lightly-flitting
124:369,30['  ]| personage would not lead to$4$ intellectual repose.
124:369,31['  ]| If the Countess objected to$4$ argument Isabel at 
124:369,32['  ]| this moment had as little taste for$4$ it, and she put
124:370,01['  ]| out her hand to$4$ Pansy with a pleasant sense that$3$
124:370,02['  ]| such a gesture committed her to$4$ nothing that$6#1$ would
124:370,03['  ]| admit of a divergence of views.  Gilbert*Osmond
124:370,04['  ]| apparently took a rather hopeless view of his sister's
124:370,05['  ]| tone; he turned the conversation to$4$ another topic.
124:370,06['  ]| He presently sat down on$4$ the other side of his daughter, 
124:370,07['  ]| who$6#1$ had shyly brushed Isabel's fingers with her
124:370,08['  ]| own; but he ended by$4$ drawing her out of her chair
124:370,09['  ]| and making her stand between his knees, leaning
124:370,10['  ]| against him while he passed his arm round her slimness.
124:370,11['  ]| The child fixed her eyes on$4$ Isabel with a still,
124:370,12['  ]| disinterested gaze which$6#1$ seemed void of an intention,
124:370,13['  ]| yet conscious of an attraction.  Mr%*Osmond talked
124:370,14['  ]| of many things; 
124:370,14@a   | Madame*Merle had said he could
124:370,15@a   | be agreeable when he chose, and to-day, after a little,
124:370,16@a   | he appeared not only to$9$ have chosen but to$9$ have 
124:370,17@a   | determined.  
124:370,17['  ]| Madame*Merle and the Countess*Gemini
124:370,18['  ]| sat a little apart, conversing in$4$ the effortless
124:370,19['  ]| manner of persons who$6#1$ knew each other well enough
124:370,20['  ]| to$9$ take their ease; but every now and then Isabel
124:370,21['  ]| heard the Countess, at something said by$4$ her companion, 
124:370,22['  ]| plunge into the latter's lucidity as a poodle
124:370,23['  ]| splashes after a thrown stick.  
124:370,23@a   | It was as if Madame*Merle
124:370,24@a   | were seeing how far she would go.  
124:370,24['  ]| Mr%*Osmond
124:370,25['  ]| talked of Florence, of Italy, of the pleasure of
124:370,26['  ]| living in$4$ that$6#2$ country and of the abatements to$4$ the 
124:370,27['  ]| pleasure.  
124:370,27@c   | There were both satisfactions and drawbacks;
124:370,28@c   | the drawbacks were numerous; strangers
124:370,29@c   | were too apt to$9$ see such a world as all romantic.
124:370,30@c   | It met the case soothingly for$4$ the human, for$4$ the 
124:370,31@c   | social failure ~~ by$4$ which$6#1$ he meant the people who$6#1$ 
124:370,32@c   | could not "realise," as they said, on$4$ their sensibility:
124:371,01@c   | they could keep it about them there, in$4$ their poverty,
124:371,02@c   | without ridicule, as you might keep an heirloom or
124:371,03@c   | an inconvenient entailed place that$6#1$ brought you in$5$ 
124:371,04@c   | nothing.  Thus there were advantages in$4$ living in$4$ the 
124:371,05@c   | country which$6#1$ contained the greatest sum of beauty.
124:371,06@c   | Certain impressions you could get only there.  Others,
124:371,07@c   | favourable to$4$ life, you never got, and you got some
124:371,08@c   | that$6#1$ were very bad.  But from time to$4$ time you got
124:371,09@c   | one of a quality that$6#1$ made up$5$ for$4$ everything.  Italy,
124:371,10@c   | all the same, had spoiled a great many people; he
124:371,11@c   | was even fatuous enough to$9$ believe at times that$3$ he
124:371,12@c   | himself might have been a better man if he had spent 
124:371,13@c   | less of his life there.  It made one idle and dilettantish
124:371,14@c   | and second-rate; it had no$2$ discipline for$4$ the character,
124:371,15@c   | did not cultivate in$4$ you, otherwise expressed, the successful
124:371,16@c   | social and other "cheek" that$6#1$ flourished in$4$
124:371,17@c   | Paris and London.  
124:371,17[C  ]| "We are sweetly provincial,"
124:371,18['  ]| said Mr%*Osmond, 
124:371,18[C  ]| "and I am perfectly aware that$3$ I 
124:371,19[C  ]| myself am as rusty as a key that$6#1$ has no$2$ lock to$9$ fit it.
124:371,20[C  ]| It polishes me up$5$ a little to$9$ talk with you ~~ not that$3$ 
124:371,21[C  ]| I venture to$9$ pretend I can turn that$6#2$ very complicated
124:371,22[C  ]| lock I suspect your intellect of being!  But you will$1$ be
124:371,23[C  ]| going away before I have seen you three times, and I
124:371,24[C  ]| shall perhaps never see you after that$6#2$.  That$6#2$ is what 
124:371,25[C  ]| it is to$9$ live in$4$ a country that$6#1$ people come to$4$.  When
124:371,26[C  ]| they are disagreeable here it is bad enough; when
124:371,27[C  ]| they are agreeable it is still worse.  As soon as you like$1$
124:371,28[C  ]| them they are off again!  I have been deceived too often;
124:371,29[C  ]| I have ceased to$9$ form attachements, to$9$ permit myself
124:371,30[C  ]| to$9$ feel attractions.  You mean to$9$ stay ~~ to$9$ settle?
124:371,31[C  ]| That$6#2$ would be really comfortable.  Ah yes, your 
124:371,32[C  ]| aunt is a sort of guarantee; I believe she may be
124:372,01[C  ]| depended on$5$.  Oh, she is an old Florentine; I mean
124:372,02[C  ]| literally an old one; not a modern outsider.  She is a 
124:372,03[C  ]| contemporary of the Medici; she must have been
124:372,04[C  ]| present at the burning of Savonarola, and I am not
124:372,05[C  ]| sure she did not throw a handful of chips into the 
124:372,06[C  ]| flame.  Her face is very much like$4$ some faces in$4$ the 
124:372,07[C  ]| early pictures; little, dry, definite faces that$6#1$ must 
124:372,08[C  ]| have had a good deal of expression, but almost always
124:372,09[C  ]| the same one.  Indeed I can show you her portrait 
124:372,10[C  ]| in$4$ a fresco of Ghirlandaio's.  I hope you do not
124:372,11[C  ]| object to$4$ my speaking that$6#2$ way of your aunt, eh?
124:372,12[C  ]| I have an idea you do not.  Perhaps you think that$6#2$ is even 
124:372,13[C  ]| worse.  I assure you there is no$2$ want of respect in$4$ it,
124:372,14[C  ]| to$4$ either of you.  You know I am a particular admirer
124:372,15[C  ]| of Mrs*Touchett."
124:372,16['  ]| While Isabel's host exerted himself to$9$ entertain her
124:372,17['  ]| in$4$ this somewhat confidential fashion she looked
124:372,18['  ]| occasionally at Madame*Merle, who$6#1$ met her eyes
124:372,19['  ]| with an inattentive smile in$4$ which$6#1$, on$4$ this occasion,
124:372,20['  ]| there was no$2$ infelicitous intimation that$3$ our heroine
124:372,21['  ]| appeared to$4$ advantage.  Madame*Merle eventually
124:372,22['  ]| proposed to$4$ the Countess*Gemini that$3$ they should
124:372,23['  ]| go into the garden, and the Countess, rising and shaking
124:372,24['  ]| out her feathers, began to$9$ rustle toward the door.
124:372,25[J  ]| "Poor Miss*Archer!" 
124:372,25['  ]| she exclaimed, surveying the 
124:372,26['  ]| other group with expressive compassion.  
124:372,26[J  ]| "She has
124:372,27[J  ]| been brought quite into the family."
124:372,28[C  ]| "Miss*Archer can certainly have nothing but sympathy
124:372,29[C  ]| for$4$ a family to$4$ which$6#1$ you belong," 
124:372,29['  ]| Mr%*Osmond
124:372,30['  ]| answered, with a laugh which$6#1$, though it had
124:372,31['  ]| something of a mocking ring, had also a finer patience.
124:372,32['  ]| 
124:373,01[J  ]| "I do not know what you mean by$4$ that$6#2$!  I am sure
124:373,02[J  ]| she will$1$ see no$2$ harm in$4$ me but what you tell her.  I am
124:373,03[J  ]| better than he says, Miss*Archer," 
124:373,03['  ]| the Countess went
124:373,04['  ]| on$5$.  
124:373,04[J  ]| "I am only rather an idiot and a bore.  Is that$6#2$ all
124:373,05[J  ]| he has said?  Ah then, you keep him in$4$ good-humour.
124:373,06[J  ]| Has he opened on$4$ one of his favourite subjects? I 
124:373,07[J  ]| give you notice that$3$ there are two or three that$6#1$ he
124:373,08[J  ]| treats \9a=*fond\.  In$4$ that$6#2$ case you had better take off your
124:373,09[J  ]| bonnet."
124:373,10[A  ]| "I do not think I know what Mr*Osmond's favourite
124:373,11[A  ]| subjects are," 
124:373,11['  ]| said Isabel, who$6#1$ had risen to$4$ her
124:373,12['  ]| feet. 
124:373,13['  ]| The Countess assumed for$4$ an instant an attitude
124:373,14['  ]| of intense meditation, pressing one of her hands, with
124:373,15['  ]| the finger-tips gathered together, to$4$ her forehead.
124:373,16[J  ]| "I will$1$ tell you in$4$ a moment.  One is Machiavelli; the
124:373,17[J  ]| other is Vittoria*Colonna; the next is Metastasio."
124:373,18[H  ]| "Ah, with me," 
124:373,18['  ]| said Madame*Merle, passing her
124:373,19['  ]| arm into the Countess*Gemini's as if to$9$ guide her
124:373,20['  ]| course to$4$ the garden, 
124:373,20[H  ]| "Mr%*Osmond is never so$5#1$ historical."
124:373,21[H  ]| 
124:373,22[J  ]| "Oh you," 
124:373,22['  ]| the Countess answered as they moved
124:373,23['  ]| away, 
124:373,23[J  ]| "you yourself are Machiavelli ~~ you yourself 
124:373,24[J  ]| are Vittoria*Colonna!"
124:373,25[C  ]| "We shall hear next that$3$ poor Madame*Merle is
124:373,26[C  ]| Metastasio!"  
124:373,26['  ]| Gilbert*Osmond resignedly sighed.
124:373,27['  ]| Isabel had got up$5$ on$4$ the assumption that$3$ they too
124:373,28['  ]| were to$9$ go into the garden; but her host stood there 
124:373,29['  ]| with no$2$ apparent inclination to$9$ leave the room, his
124:373,30['  ]| hands in$4$ the pockets of his jacket and his daughter,
124:373,31['  ]| who$6#1$ had now locked her arm into one of his own,
124:373,32['  ]| clinging to$4$ him and looking up$5$ while her eyes moved
124:374,01['  ]| from his own face to$4$ Isabel's.  Isabel waited, with a 
124:374,02['  ]| certain unuttered contentedness, to$9$ have her movements
124:374,03['  ]| directed; she liked Mr%*Osmond's talk, his
124:374,04['  ]| company: she had what always gave her a very
124:374,05['  ]| private thrill, the consciousness of a new relation.
124:374,06['  ]| Through the open doors of the great room she saw
124:374,07['  ]| Madame*Merle and the Countess stroll across the fine
124:374,08['  ]| grass of the garden; then she turned, and her eyes
124:374,09['  ]| wandered over the things scattered about her.  The
124:374,10['  ]| understanding had been that$3$ Mr%*Osmond should
124:374,11['  ]| show her his treasures; his pictures and cabinets all
124:374,12['  ]| looked like$4$ treasures.  Isabel after a moment went 
124:374,13['  ]| toward one of the pictures to$9$ see it better; but just
124:374,14['  ]| as she had done so$5#2$ he said to$4$ her abruptly: 
124:374,14[C  ]| "Miss*Archer,
124:374,15[C  ]| what do you think of my sister?"
124:374,16['  ]| She faced him with some surprise.  
124:374,16[A  ]| "Ah, do not
124:374,17[A  ]| ask me that$6#2$ ~~ I have seen your sister too little."
124:374,18[C  ]| "Yes, you have seen her very little; but you must
124:374,19[C  ]| have observed that$3$ there is not a great deal of her
124:374,20[C  ]| to$9$ see.  What do you think of our family tone?"  
124:374,20['  ]| he
124:374,21['  ]| went on$5$ with his cool smile.  
124:374,21[C  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ know
124:374,22[C  ]| how it strikes a fresh, unprejudiced mind.  I know
124:374,23[C  ]| what you are going to$9$ say ~~ you have had almost no$2$
124:374,24[C  ]| observation of it.  Of course this is only a glimpse.
124:374,25[C  ]| But just take notice, in$4$ future, if you have a chance.
124:374,26[C  ]| I sometimes think we have got into a rather bad way,
124:374,27[C  ]| living off here among things and people not our own,
124:374,28[C  ]| without responsibilities or attachments, with nothing
124:374,29[C  ]| to$9$ hold us together or keep us up$5$; marrying foreigners,
124:374,30[C  ]| forming artificial tastes, playing tricks with
124:374,31[C  ]| our natural mission.  Let me add, though, that$3$ I 
124:374,32[C  ]| say that$6#2$ much more for$4$ myself than for$4$ my sister.
124:375,01[C  ]| She is a very honest lady ~~ more so$5#2$ than she seems.
124:375,02[C  ]| She is rather unhappy, and as she is not of a serious
124:375,03[C  ]| turn she does not tend to$9$ show it tragically: she
124:375,04[C  ]| shows it comically instead.  She has got a horrid
124:375,05[C  ]| husband, though I am not sure she makes the best 
124:375,06[C  ]| of him.  Of course, however, a horrid husband is an 
124:375,07[C  ]| awkward thing.  Madame*Merle gives her excellent
124:375,08[C  ]| advice, but it is a good deal like$4$ giving a child a dictionary
124:375,09[C  ]| to$9$ learn a language with.  He can look out
124:375,10[C  ]| the words, but he can not put them together.  My
124:375,11[C  ]| sister needs a grammar, but unfortunately she is not
124:375,12[C  ]| grammatical.  Pardon my troubling you with these
124:375,13[C  ]| details; my sister was very right in$4$ saying you have
124:375,14[C  ]| been taken into the family.  Let me take down that$6#2$ 
124:375,15[C  ]| picture; you want more light."
124:375,16['  ]| He took down the picture, carried it toward the
124:375,17['  ]| window, related some curious facts about it.   She
124:375,18['  ]| looked at the other works of art, and he gave her
124:375,19['  ]| such further information as might appear most
124:375,20['  ]| acceptable to$4$ a young lady making a call on$4$ a summer
124:375,21['  ]| afternoon.  His pictures, his medallions and
124:375,22['  ]| tapestries were interesting; but after a while Isabel
124:375,23['  ]| felt the owner much more so$5#2$, and independently of
124:375,24['  ]| them, thickly as they seemed to$9$ overhang him.  
124:375,24@a   | He
124:375,25@a   | resembled no*one she had ever seen; most of the 
124:375,26@a   | people she knew might be divided into groups of
124:375,27@a   | half a dozen specimens.  There were one or two exceptions
124:375,28@a   | to$4$ this; she could think for$4$ instance of 
124:375,29@a   | no$2$ group that$6#1$ would contain her aunt Lydia.  There
124:375,30@a   | were other people who$6#1$ were, relatively speaking,
124:375,31@a   | original ~~ original, as one might say, by$4$ courtesy ~~
124:375,32@a   | such as Mr%*Goodwood, as her cousin Ralph, as
124:376,01@a   | Henrietta*Stackpole, as Lord*Warburton, as Madame*Merle.
124:376,02@a   | But in$4$ essentials, when one came to$9$ look at
124:376,03@a   | them, these individuals belonged to$4$ types already
124:376,04@a   | present to$4$ her mind.  Her mind contained no$2$ class
124:376,05@a   | offering a natural place to$4$ Mr%*Osmond ~~ he was a 
124:376,06@a   | specimen apart.  
124:376,06['  ]| It was not that$3$ she recognised all
124:376,07['  ]| these truths at the hour, but they were falling into 
124:376,08['  ]| order before her.  For$4$ the moment she only said to$4$
124:376,09['  ]| herself that$3$ 
124:376,09@a   | this "new relation" would perhaps prove
124:376,10@a   | her very most distinguished.  Madame*Merle had
124:376,11@a   | had that$6#2$ note of rarity, but what quite other power
124:376,12@a   | it immediately gained when sounded by$4$ a man!  It
124:376,13@a   | was not so$5#1$ much what he said and did, but rather
124:376,14@a   | what he withheld, that$6#2$ marked him for$4$ her as by$4$
124:376,15@a   | one of those signs of the highly curious that$3$ he was
124:376,16@a   | showing her on$4$ the underside of old plates and in$4$ the 
124:376,17@a   | corner of sixteenth-century drawings: he indulged
124:376,18@a   | in$4$ no$2$ striking deflections from common usage, he
124:376,19@a   | was an original without being an eccentric.  She had
124:376,20@a   | never met a person of so$5#1$ fine a grain.  The peculiarity
124:376,21@a   | was physical, to$9$ begin with, and it extended
124:376,22@a   | to$4$ impalpabilities.  His dense, delicate hair, his
124:376,23@a   | overdrawn, retouched features, his clear complexion,
124:376,24@a   | ripe without being coarse, the very evenness of
124:376,25@a   | the growth of his beard, and that$6#2$ light, smooth
124:376,26@a   | slenderness of structure which$6#1$ made the movement
124:376,27@a   | of a single one of his fingers produce the effect of
124:376,28@a   | an expressive gesture ~~ 
124:376,28['  ]| these personal points struck
124:376,29['  ]| our sensitive young woman as signs of quality, of
124:376,30['  ]| intensity, somehow as promises of interest.  
124:376,30@a   | He was
124:376,31@a   | certainly fastidious and critical; he was probably
124:376,32@a   | irritable.  His sensibility had governed him ~~ possibly
124:377,01@a   | governed him too much; it had made him impatient
124:377,02@a   | of vulgar troubles and had led him to$9$ live
124:377,03@a   | by$4$ himself, in$4$ a sorted, sifted, arranged world, thinking
124:377,04@a   | about art and beauty and history.  He had
124:377,05@a   | consulted his taste in$4$ everything ~~ his taste alone
124:377,06@a   | perhaps, as a sick man consciously incurable consults
124:377,07@a   | at last only his lawyer: that$6#2$ was what made him so$5#1$ 
124:377,08@a   | different from every*one else.  Ralph had something
124:377,09@a   | of this same quality, this appearance of thinking
124:377,10@a   | that$3$ life was a matter of connoisseurship; but in$4$ 
124:377,11@a   | Ralph it was an anomaly, a kind of humorous excrescence, 
124:377,12@a   | whereas in$4$ Mr%*Osmond it was the key-note,
124:377,13@a   | and everything was in$4$ harmony with it.  She
124:377,14@a   | was certainly far from understanding him completely;
124:377,15@a   | his meaning was not at all times obvious.
124:377,16@a   | It was hard to$9$ see what he meant for$4$ instance by$4$ 
124:377,17@a   | speaking of his provincial side ~~ which$6#1$ was exactly
124:377,18@a   | the side she would have taken him most to$9$ lack.
124:377,19@a   | Was it a harmless paradox, intended to$9$ puzzle her?
124:377,20@a   | or was it the last refinement of high culture?  She
124:377,21@a   | trusted she should learn in$4$ time; it would be very
124:377,22@a   | interesting to$9$ learn.  If it was provincial to$9$ have that$6#2$
124:377,23@a   | harmony, what then was the finish of the capital?
124:377,24['  ]| And she could put this question in$4$ spite of so$5#2$ feeling
124:377,25['  ]| her host a shy personage; since such shyness as
124:377,26['  ]| his ~~ the shyness of ticklish nerves and fine perceptions
124:377,27['  ]| ~~ was perfectly consistent with the best
124:377,28['  ]| breeding.  
124:377,28@a   | Indeed it was almost a proof of standards
124:377,29@a   | and touchstones other than the vulgar: he
124:377,30@a   | must be so$5#1$ sure the vulgar would be first on$4$ the 
124:377,31@a   | ground.  He was not a man of easy assurance, who$6#1$
124:377,32@a   | chatted and gossiped with the fluency of a superficial
124:378,01@a   | nature; he was critical of himself as well as
124:378,02@a   | of others, and, exacting a good deal of others, to$9$
124:378,03@a   | think them agreeable, probably took a rather ironical
124:378,04@a   | view of what he himself offered: a proof into
124:378,05@a   | the bargain that$3$ he was not grossly conceited.  If
124:378,06@a   | he had been shy he would not have effected
124:378,07@a   | that$6#2$ gradual, subtle, successful conversion of it to$4$
124:378,08@a   | which$6#1$ she owed both what pleased her in$4$ him and
124:378,09@a   | what mystified her.  If he had suddenly asked her
124:378,10@a   | what she thought of the Countess Gemini, that$6#2$ was
124:378,11@a   | doubtless a proof that$3$ he was interested in$4$ her;
124:378,12@a   | it could scarcely be as a help to$4$ knowledge of his
124:378,13@a   | own sister.  That$3$ he should be so$5#1$ interested showed
124:378,14@a   | an enquiring mind; but it was a little singular he
124:378,15@a   | should sacrifice his fraternal feeling to$4$ his curiosity.
124:378,16@a   | This was the most eccentric thing he had done.
124:378,17['  ]| There were two other rooms, beyond the one in$4$
124:378,18['  ]| which$6#1$ she had been received, equally full of romantic
124:378,19['  ]| objects, and in$4$ these apartments Isabel spent
124:378,20['  ]| a quarter of an hour.  Everything was in$4$ the last
124:378,21['  ]| degree curious and precious, and Mr%*Osmond continued
124:378,22['  ]| to$9$ be the kindest of 8ciceroni as he led her
124:378,23['  ]| from one fine piece to$4$ another and still held his little
124:378,24['  ]| girl by$4$ the hand.  His kindness almost surprised
124:378,25['  ]| our young friend, who$6#1$ wondered why he should take 
124:378,26['  ]| so$5#1$ much trouble for$4$ her; and she was oppressed at
124:378,27['  ]| last with the accumulation of beauty and knowledge
124:378,28['  ]| to$4$ which$6#1$ she found herself introduced.  There was
124:378,29['  ]| enough for$4$ the present; she had ceased to$9$ attend
124:378,30['  ]| to$4$ what he said; she listened to$4$ him with attentive
124:378,31['  ]| eyes, but was not thinking of what he told her.  
124:378,31@a   | He
124:378,32@a   | probably thought her quicker, cleverer in$4$ every way,
124:379,01@a   | more prepared, than she was.  Madame*Merle would 
124:379,02@a   | have pleasantly exaggerated; which$6#1$ was a pity,
124:379,03@a   | because in$4$ the end he would be sure to$9$ find out, and
124:379,04@a   | then perhaps even her real intelligence would not
124:379,05@a   | reconcile him to$4$ his mistake.  
124:379,05['  ]| A part of Isabel's
124:379,06['  ]| fatigue came from the effort to$9$ appear as intelligent
124:379,07['  ]| as she believed Madame*Merle had described her,
124:379,08['  ]| and from the fear (very unusual with her) of exposing
124:379,09['  ]| ~~ not her ignorance; for$4$ that$6#2$ she cared
124:379,10['  ]| comparatively little ~~ but her possible grossness of
124:379,11['  ]| perception.  It would have annoyed her to$9$ express
124:379,12['  ]| a liking for$4$ something he, in$4$ his superior enlightenment,
124:379,13['  ]| would think she ought not to$9$ like$1$; or to$9$ 
124:379,14['  ]| pass by$5$ something at which$6#1$ the truly initiated mind
124:379,15['  ]| would arrest itself.  She had no$2$ wish to$9$ fall into that$6#2$ 
124:379,16['  ]| grotesqueness ~~ in$4$ which$6#1$ she had seen women (and
124:379,17['  ]| it was a warning) serenely, yet ignobly, flounder.
124:379,18['  ]| She was very careful therefore as to$4$ what she said,
124:379,19['  ]| as to$4$ what she noticed or failed to$9$ notice; more
124:379,20['  ]| careful than she had ever been before.
124:379,21['  ]| They came back into the first of the rooms, where
124:379,22['  ]| the tea had been served; but as the two other ladies
124:379,23['  ]| were still on$4$ the terrace, and as Isabel had not yet
124:379,24['  ]| been made acquainted with the view, the paramount
124:379,25['  ]| distinction of the place, Mr%*Osmond directed
124:379,26['  ]| her steps into the garden without more delay.  Madame*Merle
124:379,27['  ]| and the Countess had had chairs brought
124:379,28['  ]| out, and as the afternoon was lovely the Countess
124:379,29['  ]| proposed they should take their tea in$4$ the open air.
124:379,30['  ]| Pansy therefore was sent to$9$ bid the servant bring
124:379,31['  ]| out the preparations.  The sun had got low, the golden
124:379,32['  ]| light took a deeper tone, and on$4$ the mountains and 
124:380,01['  ]| the plain that$6#1$ stretched beneath them the masses
124:380,02['  ]| of purple shadow glowed as richly as the places
124:380,03['  ]| that$6#1$ were still exposed.  The scene had an extraordinary
124:380,04['  ]| charm.  The air was almost solemnly still,
124:380,05['  ]| and the large expanse of the landscape, with its gardenlike
124:380,06['  ]| culture and nobleness of outline, its teeming
124:380,07['  ]| valley and delicately-fretted hills, its peculiarly
124:380,08['  ]| human-looking touches of habitation, lay there in$4$ 
124:380,09['  ]| splendid harmony and classic grace.  
124:380,09[C  ]| "You seem
124:380,10[C  ]| so$5#1$ well pleased that$3$ I think you can be trusted to$9$
124:380,11[C  ]| come back," 
124:380,11['  ]| Osmond said as he led his companion
124:380,12['  ]| to$4$ one of the angles of the terrace.
124:380,13[A  ]| "I shall certainly come back," 
124:380,13['  ]| she returned, 
124:380,13[A  ]| "in$4$
124:380,14[A  ]| spite of what you say about its being bad to$9$ live in$4$
124:380,15[A  ]| Italy.  What was that$6#2$ you said about one's natural
124:380,16[A  ]| mission?  I wonder if I should forsake my natural
124:380,17[A  ]| mission if I were to$9$ settle in$4$ Florence."
124:380,18[C  ]| "A woman's natural mission is to$9$ be where she is
124:380,19[C  ]| most appreciated."
124:380,20[A  ]| "The point is to$9$ find out where that$6#2$ is."
124:380,21[C  ]| "Very true ~~ she often wastes a great deal of
124:380,22[C  ]| time in$4$ the enquiry.  People ought to$9$ make it very 
124:380,23[C  ]| plain to$4$ her."
124:380,24[A  ]| "Such a matter would have to$9$ be made very plain
124:380,25[A  ]| to$4$ me," 
124:380,25['  ]| smiled Isabel.
124:380,26[C  ]| "I am glad, at any rate, to$9$ hear you talk of settling.
124:380,27[C  ]| Madame*Merle had given me an idea that$3$
124:380,28[C  ]| you were of a rather roving disposition.  I thought
124:380,29[C  ]| she spoke of your having some plan of going round
124:380,30[C  ]| the world."
124:380,31[A  ]| "I am rather ashamed of my plans; I make a new
124:380,32[A  ]| one every day."
124:381,01[C  ]| "I do not see why you should be ashamed; it is the
124:381,02[C  ]| greatest of pleasures."
124:381,03[A  ]| "It seems frivolous, I think," 
124:381,03['  ]| said Isabel.  
124:381,03[A  ]| "One
124:381,04[A  ]| ought to$9$ choose something very deliberately, and be
124:381,05[A  ]| faithful to$4$ that$6#2$."
124:381,06[C  ]| "By$4$ that$6#2$ rule then, I have not been frivolous."
124:381,07[A  ]| "Have you never made plans?"
124:381,08[C  ]| "Yes, I made one years ago, and I am acting on$4$ it
124:381,09[C  ]| to-day."
124:381,10[A  ]| "It must have been a very pleasant one," 
124:381,10['  ]| Isabel
124:381,11['  ]| permitted herself to$9$ observe.
124:381,12[C  ]| "It was very simple.  It was to$9$ be as quiet as possible."
124:381,13[C  ]| 
124:381,14[A  ]| "As quiet?" 
124:381,14['  ]| the girl repeated.
124:381,15[C  ]| "Not to$9$ worry ~~ not to$9$ strive nor struggle.  To$9$
124:381,16[C  ]| resign myself.  To$9$ be content with little."  
124:381,16['  ]| He spoke
124:381,17['  ]| these sentences slowly, with short pauses between,
124:381,18['  ]| and his intelligent regard was fixed on$4$ his visitor's
124:381,19['  ]| with the conscious air of a man who$6#1$ has brought
124:381,20['  ]| himself to$9$ confess something.
124:381,21[A  ]| "Do you call that$6#2$ simple?" 
124:381,21['  ]| she asked with mild
124:381,22['  ]| irony.
124:381,23[C  ]| "Yes, because it is negative."
124:381,24[A  ]| "Has your life been negative?"
124:381,25[C  ]| "Call it affirmative if you like$1$.  Only it has affirmed
124:381,26[C  ]| my indifference.  Mind you, not my natural indifference
124:381,27[C  ]| ~~ I \had\ none.  But my studied, my wilful
124:381,28[C  ]| renunciation."
124:381,29['  ]| She scarcely understood him; 
124:381,29@a   | it seemed a question
124:381,30@a   | whether he were joking or not.  Why should a man
124:381,31@a   | who$6#1$ struck her as having a great fund of reserve suddenly
124:381,32@a   | bring himself to$9$ be so$5#1$ confidential?  This was   
124:382,01@a   | his affair, however, and his confidences were interesting.
124:382,02[A  ]| "I do not see why you should have renounced,"
124:382,03['  ]| she said in$4$ a moment.
124:382,04[C  ]| "Because I could do nothing.  I had no$2$ prospects,
124:382,05[C  ]| I was poor, and I was not a man of genius.  I had no$2$
124:382,06[C  ]| talents even; I took my measure early in$4$ life.  I was
124:382,07[C  ]| simply the most fastidious young gentleman living.
124:382,08[C  ]| There were two or three people in$4$ the world I
124:382,09[C  ]| envied ~~ the Emperor of Russia, for$4$ instance, and the 
124:382,10[C  ]| Sultan of Turkey!  There were even moments when I 
124:382,11[C  ]| envied the Pope of Rome ~~ for$4$ the consideration he
124:382,12[C  ]| enjoys.  I should have been delighted to$9$ be considered
124:382,13[C  ]| to$4$ that$6#2$ extent; but since that$6#2$ could not be I did not
124:382,14[C  ]| care for$4$ anything less, and I made up$5$ my mind not 
124:382,15[C  ]| to$9$ go in$5$ for$4$ honours.  The leanest gentleman can always
124:382,16[C  ]| consider himself, and fortunately I \was\, though
124:382,17[C  ]| lean, a gentleman.  I could do nothing in$4$ Italy ~~
124:382,18[C  ]| I could not even be an Italian patriot.  To$9$ do that$6#2$ I 
124:382,19[C  ]| should have had to$9$ get out of the country; and I was
124:382,20[C  ]| too fond of it to$9$ leave it, to$9$ say nothing of my being
124:382,21[C  ]| too well satisfied with it, on$4$ the whole, as it then was,
124:382,22[C  ]| to$9$ wish it altered.  So$3$ I have passed a great many years
124:382,23[C  ]| here on$4$ that$6#2$ quiet plan I spoke of.  I have not been at
124:382,24[C  ]| all unhappy.  I do not mean to$9$ say I have cared for$4$
124:382,25[C  ]| nothing; but the things I have cared for$4$ have been
124:382,26[C  ]| definite ~~ limited.  The events of my life have been 
124:382,27[C  ]| absolutely unperceived by$4$ any*one save myself; getting
124:382,28[C  ]| an old silver crucifix at a bargain (I have never
124:382,29[C  ]| bought anything dear, of course), or discovering, as I
124:382,30[C  ]| once did, a sketch by$4$ Correggio on$4$ a panel daubed
124:382,31[C  ]| over by$4$ some inspired idiot."
124:382,32['  ]| This would have been rather a dry account of Mr%*Osmond's
124:383,01['  ]| career if Isabel had fully believed it; but
124:383,02['  ]| her imagination supplied the human element which$6#1$ 
124:383,03['  ]| she was sure had not been wanting.  
124:383,03@a   | His life had
124:383,04@a   | been mingled with other lives more than he admitted;
124:383,05@a   | naturally she could not expect him to$9$ enter into this.
124:383,06['  ]| For$4$ the present she abstained from provoking further
124:383,07['  ]| revelations; 
124:383,07@a   | to$9$ intimate that$3$ he had not told her
124:383,08@a   | everything would be more familiar and less considerate
124:383,09@a   | than she now desired to$9$ be ~~ would in$4$ fact be 
124:383,10@a   | uproariously vulgar.  He had certainly told her quite
124:383,11@a   | enough.  
124:383,11['  ]| It was her present inclination, however, to$9$ 
124:383,12['  ]| express a measured sympathy for the success with
124:383,13['  ]| which$6#1$ he had preserved his independence.  
124:383,13[A  ]| "That$6#2$ is
124:383,14[A  ]| a very pleasant life," 
124:383,14['  ]| she said, 
124:383,14[A  ]| "to$9$ renounce everything
124:383,15[A  ]| but Correggio!"
124:383,16[C  ]| "Oh, I have made in$4$ my way a good thing of it.
124:383,17[C  ]| Do not imagine I am whining about it.  It is one's own
124:383,18[C  ]| fault if one is not happy."
124:383,19['  ]| This was large; she kept down to$4$ something
124:383,20['  ]| smaller.  
124:383,20[A  ]| "Have you lived here always?"
124:383,21[C  ]| "No$7$, not always.  I lived a long time at Naples,
124:383,22[C  ]| and many years in$4$ Rome.  But I have been here a good
124:383,23[C  ]| while.  Perhaps I shall have to$9$ change, however; to$9$
124:383,24[C  ]| do something else.  I have no$2$ longer myself to$9$ think of.
124:383,25[C  ]| My daughter is growing up$5$ and may very possibly
124:383,26[C  ]| not care so$5#1$ much for$4$ the Correggios and crucifixes
124:383,27[C  ]| as I.  I shall have to$9$ do what is best for$4$ Pansy."
124:383,28[A  ]| "Yes, do that$6#2$," 
124:383,28['  ]| said Isabel.  
124:383,28[A  ]| "She is such a dear
124:383,29[A  ]| little girl."
124:383,30[C  ]| "Ah," 
124:383,30['  ]| cried Gilbert*Osmond beautifully, 
124:383,30[C  ]| "she is
124:383,31[C  ]| a little saint of heaven!  She is my great happiness!" 
125:384,01['  ]| While this sufficiently intimate colloquy (prolonged
125:384,02['  ]| for$4$ some time after we cease to$9$ follow it) went forward
125:384,03['  ]| Madame*Merle and her companion, breaking
125:384,04['  ]| a silence of some duration, had begun to$9$ exchange
125:384,05['  ]| remarks.  They were sitting in$4$ an attitude of unexpressed
125:384,06['  ]| expectancy; an attitude especially marked
125:384,07['  ]| on$4$ the part of the Countess*Gemini, who$6#1$, being of a 
125:384,08['  ]| more nervous temperament than her friend, practised 
125:384,09['  ]| with less success the art of disguising impatience.
125:384,10['  ]| What these ladies were waiting for$4$ would not have 
125:384,11['  ]| been apparent and was perhaps not very definite to$4$
125:384,12['  ]| their own minds.  Madame*Merle waited for$4$ Osmond
125:384,13['  ]| to$9$ release their young friend from her \9te^te-a`-te^te\, and
125:384,14['  ]| the Countess waited because Madame*Merle did.
125:384,15['  ]| The Countess, moreover, by$4$ waiting, found the time
125:384,16['  ]| ripe for$4$ one of her pretty perversities.  She might 
125:384,17['  ]| have desired for$4$ some minutes to$9$ place it.  Her
125:384,18['  ]| brother wandered with Isabel to$4$ the end of the garden,
125:384,19['  ]| to$4$ which$6#1$ point her eyes followed them.
125:384,20[J  ]| "My dear," 
125:384,20['  ]| she then observed to$4$ her companion,
125:384,21[J  ]| "you will$1$ excuse me if I do not congratulate you!"
125:384,22[H  ]| "Very willingly, for$3$ I do not in$4$ the least know why.
125:384,23[H  ]| you should."
125:384,24[J  ]| "Have not you a little plan that$6#1$ you think rather
125:384,25[J  ]| well of?"  
125:384,25['  ]| And the Countess nodded at the sequestered 
125:384,26['  ]| couple.
125:384,27['  ]| Madame*Merle's eyes took the same direction; then
125:385,01['  ]| she looked serenely at her neighbour.  
125:385,01[H  ]| "You know
125:385,02[H  ]| I never understand you very well," 
125:385,02['  ]| she smiled.
125:385,03[J  ]| "No*one can understand better than you when you
125:385,04[J  ]| wish.  I see that$3$ just now you \do not\ wish."
125:385,05[H  ]| "You say things to$4$ me that$6#1$ no*one else does," 
125:385,05['  ]| said
125:385,06['  ]| Madame*Merle gravely, yet without bitterness.
125:385,07[J  ]| "You mean things you do not like$1$?  Does not Osmond
125:385,08[J  ]| sometimes say such things?"
125:385,09[H  ]| "What your brother says has a point."
125:385,10[J  ]| "Yes, a poisoned one sometimes.  If you mean
125:385,11[J  ]| that$3$ I am not so$5#1$ clever as he you must not think I 
125:385,12[J  ]| shall suffer from your sense of our difference.  But
125:385,13[J  ]| it will$1$ be much better that$3$ you should understand
125:385,14[J  ]| me."
125:385,15[H  ]| "Why so$5#2$?"  
125:385,15['  ]| asked Madame*Merle.  
125:385,15[H  ]| "To$4$ what will$1$
125:385,16[H  ]| it conduce?"
125:385,17[J  ]| "If I do not approve of your plan you ought to$9$ know
125:385,18[J  ]| it in$4$ order to$9$ appreciate the danger of my interfering
125:385,19[J  ]| with it."
125:385,20['  ]| Madame*Merle looked as if she were ready to$9$ admit
125:385,21['  ]| that$3$ there might be something in$4$ this; but in$4$ a 
125:385,22['  ]| moment she said quietly: 
125:385,22[H  ]| "You think me more calculating
125:385,23[H  ]| than I am."
125:385,24[J  ]| "It is not your calculating I think ill of; it is your
125:385,25[J  ]| calculating wrong.  You have done so$5#2$ in$4$ this case."
125:385,26[H  ]| "You must have made extensive calculations yourself
125:385,27[H  ]| to$9$ discover that$6#2$."
125:385,28[J  ]| "No$7$, I have not had time.  I have seen the girl but this
125:385,29[J  ]| once," 
125:385,29['  ]| said the Countess, 
125:385,29[J  ]| "and the conviction has
125:385,30[J  ]| suddenly come to$4$ me.  I like$1$ her very much."
125:385,31[H  ]| "So$5#2$ do I," 
125:385,31['  ]| Madame*Merle mentioned.
125:385,32[J  ]| "You have a strange way of showing it."  
125:386,01[H  ]| "Surely I have given her the advantage of making
125:386,02[H  ]| your acquaintance."
125:386,03[J  ]| "That$6#2$ indeed," 
125:386,03['  ]| piped the Countess, 
125:386,03[J  ]| "is perhaps
125:386,04[J  ]| the best thing that$6#1$ could happen to$4$ her!"
125:386,05['  ]| Madame*Merle said nothing for$4$ some time.  
125:386,05@h   | The
125:386,06@h   | Countess's manner was odious, was really low; but
125:386,07@h   | it was an old story, 
125:386,07['  ]| and with her eyes upon$4$ the violet
125:386,08['  ]| slope of Monte Morello she gave herself up$5$ to$4$ reflection.
125:386,09[H  ]| "My dear lady," 
125:386,09['  ]| she finally resumed, 
125:386,09[H  ]| "I advise 
125:386,10[H  ]| you not to$9$ agitate yourself.  The matter you allude
125:386,11[H  ]| to$4$ concerns three persons much stronger of purpose
125:386,12[H  ]| than yourself."
125:386,13[J  ]| "Three persons? You and Osmond of course.  But 
125:386,14[J  ]| is Miss*Archer also very strong of purpose?"
125:386,15[H  ]| "Quite as much so$5#2$ as we."
125:386,16[J  ]| "Ah then," 
125:386,16['  ]| said the Countess radiantly, 
125:386,16[J  ]| "if I convince 
125:386,17[J  ]| her it is her interest to$9$ resist you she will$1$ do so$5#2$
125:386,18[J  ]| successfully!"
125:386,19[H  ]| "Resist us?  Why do you express yourself so$5#1$
125:386,20[H  ]| coarsely?  She is not exposed to$4$ compulsion or deception."
125:386,21[H  ]| 
125:386,22[J  ]| "I am not sure of that$6#2$.  You are capable of anything,
125:386,23[J  ]| you and Osmond.  I do not mean Osmond by$4$ himself,
125:386,24[J  ]| and I do not mean you by$4$ yourself.  But together
125:386,25[J  ]| you are dangerous ~~ like$4$ some chemical combination."
125:386,26[J  ]| 
125:386,27[H  ]| "You had better leave us alone then," 
125:386,27['  ]| smiled Madame*Merle.
125:386,28['  ]| 
125:386,29[J  ]| "I do not mean to$9$ touch you ~~ but I shall talk to$4$
125:386,30[J  ]| that$6#2$ girl."
125:386,31[H  ]| "My poor Amy," 
125:386,31['  ]| Madame*Merle murmured, 
125:386,31[H  ]| "I 
125:386,32[H  ]| do not see what has got into your head."
125:387,01[J  ]| "I take an interest in$4$ her ~~ that$6#2$ is what has got
125:387,02[J  ]| into my head.  I like$1$ her."
125:387,03['  ]| Madame*Merle hesitated a moment.  
125:387,03[H  ]| "I do not think
125:387,04[H  ]| she likes you."
125:387,05['  ]| The Countess's bright little eyes expanded and
125:387,06['  ]| her face was set in$4$ a grimace.  
125:387,06[J  ]| "Ah, you \are\ dangerous
125:387,07[J  ]| ~~ even by$4$ yourself!"
125:387,08[H  ]| "If you want her to$9$ like$1$ you do not abuse your
125:387,09[H  ]| brother to$4$ her," 
125:387,09['  ]| said Madame*Merle.
125:387,10[J  ]| "I do not suppose you pretend she has fallen in$4$ 
125:387,11[J  ]| love with him in$4$ two interviews."
125:387,12['  ]| Madame*Merle looked a moment at Isabel and at 
125:387,13['  ]| the master of the house.  
125:387,13@h   | He was leaning against
125:387,14@h   | the parapet, facing her, his arms folded; and she
125:387,15@h   | at present was evidently not lost in$4$ the mere impersonal 
125:387,16@h   | view, persistently as she gazed at it.  
125:387,16['  ]| As
125:387,17['  ]| Madame*Merle watched her she lowered her eyes;
125:387,18@h   | she was listening, possibly with a certain embarrassment,
125:387,19@h   | while she pressed the point of her parsol
125:387,20@h   | into the path.  
125:387,20['  ]| Madame*Merle rose from her chair.
125:387,21[H  ]| "Yes, I think so$5#2$!" 
125:387,21['  ]| she pronounced.
125:387,22['  ]| The shabby footboy, summoned by$4$ Pansy ~~
125:387,23['  ]| he might, tarnished as to$4$ livery and quaint as to$4$
125:387,24['  ]| type, have issued from some stray sketch of old-time
125:387,25['  ]| manners, been ""put in$5$"" by$4$ the brush of a 
125:387,26['  ]| Longhi or a Goya ~~ had come out with a small
125:387,27['  ]| table and placed it on$4$ the grass, and then had gone
125:387,28['  ]| back and fetched the tea-tray; after which$6#1$ he had
125:387,29['  ]| again disappeared, to$9$ return with a couple of chairs.
125:387,30['  ]| Pansy had watched these procedings with the deepest
125:387,31['  ]| interest, standing with her small hands folded
125:387,32['  ]| together upon$4$ the front of her scanty frock; but
125:388,01['  ]| she had not presumed to$9$ offer assistance.  When the
125:388,02['  ]| tea-table had been arranged, however, she gently
125:388,03['  ]| approached her aunt.
125:388,04[K  ]| "Do you think papa would object to$4$ my making
125:388,05[K  ]| the tea?"
125:388,06['  ]| The Countess looked at her with a deliberately
125:388,07['  ]| critical gaze and without answering her question.
125:388,08[J  ]| "My poor niece," 
125:388,08['  ]| she said, 
125:388,08[J  ]| "is that$6#2$ your best frock?"
125:388,09[K  ]| "Ah no$7$," 
125:388,09['  ]| Pansy answered, 
125:388,09[K  ]| "It is just a little
125:388,10[K  ]| \9toilette\ for$4$ common occasions."
125:388,11[J  ]| "Do you call it a common occasion when I come 
125:388,12[J  ]| to$9$ see you?  ~~ to$9$ say nothing of Madame*Merle and 
125:388,13[J  ]| the pretty lady yonder."
125:388,14['  ]| Pansy reflected a moment, turning gravely from
125:388,15['  ]| one of the persons mentioned to$4$ the other.  Then
125:388,16['  ]| her face broke into its perfect smile.  
125:388,16[K  ]| "I have a pretty
125:388,17[K  ]| dress, but even that$6#2$ one is very simple.  Why should
125:388,18[K  ]| I expose it beside your beautiful things?"
125:388,19[J  ]| "Because it is the prettiest you have; for$4$ me you 
125:388,20[J  ]| must always wear the prettiest.  Please put it on$5$ the 
125:388,21[J  ]| next time.  It seems to$4$ me they do not dress you so$5#1$
125:388,22[J  ]| well as they might."
125:388,23['  ]| The child sparingly stroked down her antiquated
125:388,24['  ]| skirt.  
125:388,24[K  ]| "It is a good little dress to$9$ make tea ~~ do not
125:388,25[K  ]| you think?  Do not you believe papa would allow
125:388,26[K  ]| me?"
125:388,27[J  ]| "Impossible for$4$ me to$9$ say, my child," 
125:388,27['  ]| said the 
125:388,28['  ]| Countess.  
125:388,28[J  ]| "For$4$ me, your father's ideas are unfathomable.
125:388,29[J  ]| Madame*Merle understands them better.
125:388,30[J  ]| Ask \her\."
125:388,31['  ]| Madame*Merle smiled with her usual grace.  
125:388,31[H  ]| "It is
125:388,32[H  ]| a weighty question ~~ let me think.  It seems to$4$ me
125:389,01[H  ]| it would please your father to$9$ see a careful little
125:389,02[H  ]| daughter making his tea.  It is the proper duty of the 
125:389,03[H  ]| daughter of the house ~~ when she grows up$5$."
125:389,04[K  ]| "So$5#2$ it seems to$4$ me, Madame*Merle!" 
125:389,04['  ]| Pansy cried.
125:389,05[K  ]| "You shall see how well I will$1$ make it.  A spoonful
125:389,06[K  ]| for$4$ each." 
125:389,06['  ]| And she began to$9$ busy herself at the 
125:389,07['  ]| table.
125:389,08[J  ]| "Two spoonfuls for$4$ me," 
125:389,08['  ]| said the Countess,
125:389,09['  ]| who$6#1$, with Madame*Merle, remained for$4$ some moments
125:389,10['  ]| watching her.  
125:389,10[J  ]| "Listen to$4$ me, Pansy," 
125:389,10['  ]| the 
125:389,11['  ]| Countess resumed at last.  
125:389,11[J  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ know
125:389,12[J  ]| what you think of your visitor."
125:389,13[K  ]| "Ah, she is not mine ~~ she is papa's," 
125:389,13['  ]| Pansy
125:389,14['  ]| objected.
125:389,15[H  ]| "Miss*Archer came to$9$ see you as well," 
125:389,15['  ]| said
125:389,16['  ]| Madame*Merle.
125:389,17[K  ]| "I am very happy to$9$ hear that$6#2$.  She has been very 
125:389,18[K  ]| polite to$4$ me."
125:389,19[J  ]| "Do you like$1$ her then?" 
125:389,19['  ]| the Countess asked.
125:389,20[K  ]| "She is charming ~~ charming," 
125:389,20['  ]| Pansy repeated in$4$
125:389,21['  ]| her little neat conversational tone.  
125:389,21[K  ]| "She pleases me
125:389,22[K  ]| thoroughly."
125:389,23[J  ]| "And how do you think she pleases your father?"
125:389,24[H  ]| "Ah really, Countess!" 
125:389,24['  ]| murmured Madame*Merle
125:389,25['  ]| dissuasively.  
125:389,25[H  ]| "Go and call them to$4$ tea," 
125:389,25['  ]| she went 
125:389,26['  ]| on$5$ to$4$ the child.
125:389,27[K  ]| "You will$1$ see if they do not like$1$ it!"  
125:389,27['  ]| Pansy declared;
125:389,28['  ]| and departed to$9$ summon the others, who$6#1$ had still lingered
125:389,29['  ]| at the end of the terrace.
125:389,30[J  ]| "If Miss*Archer is to$9$ become her mother it is 
125:389,31[J  ]| surely interesting to$9$ know if the child likes her,"
125:389,32['  ]| said the Countess.
125:390,01[H  ]| "If your brother marries again it will$1$ not be for$4$
125:390,02[H  ]| Pansy's sake," 
125:390,02['  ]| Madame*Merle replied.  
125:390,02[H  ]| "She will$1$
125:390,03[H  ]| soon be sixteen, and after that$6#2$ she will$1$ begin to$9$ need
125:390,04[H  ]| a husband rather than a stepmother."
125:390,05[J  ]| "And will$1$ you provide the husband as well?"
125:390,06[H  ]| "I shall certainly take an interest in$4$ her marrying
125:390,07[H  ]| fortunately.  I imagine you will$1$ do the same."
125:390,08[J  ]| "Indeed I shall not!" 
125:390,08['  ]| cried the Countess.  
125:390,08[J  ]| "Why
125:390,09[J  ]| should I, of all women, set such a price on$4$ a husband?"
125:390,10[J  ]| 
125:390,11[H  ]| "You did not marry fortunately; that$6#2$ is what I am 
125:390,12[H  ]| speaking of.  When I say a husband I mean a good
125:390,13[H  ]| one."
125:390,14[J  ]| "There are no$2$ good ones.  Osmond will$1$ not be a good
125:390,15[J  ]| one."
125:390,16['  ]| Madame*Merle closed her eyes a moment.  
125:390,16[H  ]| "You are
125:390,17[H  ]| irritated just now; I do not know why," 
125:390,17['  ]| she presently
125:390,18['  ]| said.  
125:390,18[H  ]| "I do not think you will$1$ really object either to$4$
125:390,19[H  ]| your brother's or to$4$ your niece's marrying, when the
125:390,20[H  ]| time comes for$4$ them to$9$ do so$5#2$; and as regards Pansy
125:390,21[H  ]| I am confident that$3$ we shall some day have the 
125:390,22[H  ]| pleasure of looking for$4$ a husband for$4$ her together.
125:390,23[H  ]| Your large acquaintance will$1$ be a great help."
125:390,24[J  ]| "Yes, I am irritated," 
125:390,24['  ]| the Countess answered.
125:390,25[J  ]| "You often irritate me.  Your own coolness is fabulous.
125:390,26[J  ]| You are a strange woman."
125:390,27[H  ]| "It is much better that$3$ we should always act together," 
125:390,28['  ]| Madame*Merle went on$5$.
125:390,29[J  ]| "Do you mean that$6#2$ as a threat?" 
125:390,29['  ]| asked the Countess
125:390,30['  ]| rising.
125:390,31['  ]| Madame*Merle shook her head as for$4$ quiet amusement.
125:390,32[H  ]| "No$7$ indeed, you have not my coolness!"
125:391,01['  ]| Isabel and Mr%*Osmond were now slowly coming
125:391,02['  ]| toward them and Isabel had taken Pansy by$4$ the hand.
125:391,03[J  ]| "Do you pretend to$9$ believe he would make her happy?"
125:391,04['  ]| the Countess demanded.
125:391,05[H  ]| "If he should marry Miss*Archer I suppose he would
125:391,06[H  ]| behave like$4$ a gentleman."
125:391,07['  ]| The Countess jerked herself into a succession of
125:391,08['  ]| attitudes.  
125:391,08[J  ]| "Do you mean as most gentlemen behave?
125:391,09[J  ]| That$6#2$ would be much to$9$ be thankful for$4$!  Of course
125:391,10[J  ]| Osmond is a gentleman; his own sister need not be
125:391,11[J  ]| reminded of that$6#2$.  But does he think he can marry
125:391,12[J  ]| any girl he happens to$9$ pick out?  Osmond is a gentleman,
125:391,13[J  ]| of course; but I must say I have \never\, no$7$, no$7$,
125:391,14[J  ]| never, seen any*one of Osmond's pretensions!  What
125:391,15[J  ]| they are all founded on$4$ is more than I can say.  I am
125:391,16[J  ]| his own sister; I might be supposed to$9$ know.  Who$6#2$
125:391,17[J  ]| is he, if you please?  What has he ever done?  If
125:391,18[J  ]| there had been anything particularly grand in$4$ his
125:391,19[J  ]| origin ~~ if he were made of some superior clay ~~
125:391,20[J  ]| I presume I should have got some inkling of it.  If
125:391,21[J  ]| there had been any great honours or splendours in$4$
125:391,22[J  ]| the family I should certainly have made the most of
125:391,23[J  ]| them: they would have been quite in$4$ my line.  But
125:391,24[J  ]| there is nothing, nothing, nothing.  One's parents
125:391,25[J  ]| were charming people of course; but so$5#2$ were yours,
125:391,26[J  ]| I have no$2$ doubt.  Every*one is a charming person now-a-days.
125:391,27[J  ]| Even I am a charming person; do not laugh,
125:391,28[J  ]| it has literally been said.  As for$4$ Osmond, he has
125:391,29[J  ]| always appeared to$9$ believe that$3$ he is descended from
125:391,30[J  ]| the gods."
125:391,31[H  ]| "You may say what you please," 
125:391,31['  ]| said Madame*Merle,
125:391,32['  ]| who$6#1$ had listened to$4$ this quick outbreak none
125:392,01['  ]| the less attentively, we may believe, because her
125:392,02['  ]| eye wandered away from the speaker and her hands
125:392,03['  ]| busied themselves with adjusting the knots of ribbon
125:392,04['  ]| on$4$ her dress.  
125:392,04[H  ]| "You Osmonds are a fine race ~~ your
125:392,05[H  ]| blood must flow from some very pure source.  Your
125:392,06[H  ]| brother, like$4$ an intelligent man, has had the conviction
125:392,07[H  ]| of it if he has not had the proofs.  You are
125:392,08[H  ]| modest about it, but you yourself are extremely
125:392,09[H  ]| distinguished.  What do you say about your niece?
125:392,10[H  ]| The child is a little princess.  Nevertheless," 
125:392,10['  ]| Madame*Merle
125:392,11['  ]| added, 
125:392,11[H  ]| "it will$1$ not be an easy matter for$4$ Osmond
125:392,12[H  ]| to$9$ marry Miss*Archer.  Yet he can try."
125:392,13[J  ]| "I hope she will$1$ refuse him.  It will$1$ take him down
125:392,14[J  ]| a little."
125:392,15[H  ]| "We must not forget that$3$ he is one of the cleverest
125:392,16[H  ]| of men."
125:392,17[J  ]| "I have heard you say that$6#2$ before, but I have not
125:392,18[J  ]| yet discovered what he has done."
125:392,19[H  ]| "What he has done?  He has done nothing that$6#1$ has
125:392,20[H  ]| had to$9$ be undone.  And he has known how to$9$ wait."
125:392,21[J  ]| "To$9$ wait for$4$ Miss*Archer's money?  How much 
125:392,22[J  ]| of it is there?"
125:392,23[H  ]| "That$6#2$ is not what I mean," 
125:392,23['  ]| said Madame*Merle.
125:392,24[H  ]| "Miss*Archer has seventy thousand pounds."
125:392,25[J  ]| "Well, it is a pity she is so$5#1$ charming," 
125:392,25['  ]| the Countess
125:392,26['  ]| declared.  
125:392,26[J  ]| "To$9$ be sacrificed, any girl would do.
125:392,27[J  ]| She need not be superior."
125:392,28[H  ]| "If she were not superior your brother would
125:392,29[H  ]| never look at her.  He must have the best."
125:392,30[J  ]| "Yes," 
125:392,30['  ]| returned the Countess as they went forward 
125:392,31['  ]| a little to$9$ meet the others, 
125:392,31[J  ]| "he is very hard to$9$ 
125:392,32[J  ]| satisfy.  That$6#2$ makes me tremble for$4$ her happiness!"
126:393,01['  ]| Gilbert*Osmond came to$9$ see Isabel again; that$3$
126:393,02['  ]| is he came to$4$ Palazzo*Crescentini.  He had other
126:393,03['  ]| friends there as well, and to$4$ Mrs%*Touchett and Madame*Merle
126:393,04['  ]| he was always impartially civil; but the 
126:393,05['  ]| former of these ladies noted the fact that$3$ in$4$ the course
126:393,06['  ]| of a fortnight he called five times, and compared
126:393,07['  ]| it with another fact that$6#1$ she found no$2$ difficulty in$4$
126:393,08['  ]| remembering.  Two visits a year had hitherto constituted 
126:393,09['  ]| his regular tribute to$4$ Mrs%*Touchett's worth,
126:393,10['  ]| and she had never observed him select for$4$ such visits
126:393,11['  ]| those moments, of almost periodical recurrence,
126:393,12['  ]| when Madame*Merle was under her roof.  
126:393,12@g   | It was
126:393,13@g   | not for$4$ Madame*Merle that$3$ he came; these two were
126:393,14@g   | old friends and he never put himself out for$4$ her.
126:393,15@g   | He was not fond of Ralph ~~ Ralph had told her
126:393,16@g   | so$5#2$ ~~ and it was not supposable that$3$ Mr%*Osmond
126:393,17@g   | had suddenly taken a fancy to$4$ her son.  
126:393,17['  ]| Ralph was
126:393,18['  ]| imperturbable ~~ Ralph had a kind of loose-fitting
126:393,19['  ]| urbanity that$6#1$ wrapped him about like$4$ an ill-made
126:393,20['  ]| overcoat, but of which$6#1$ he never divested himself;
126:393,21['  ]| he thought Mr%*Osmond very good company and
126:393,22['  ]| was willing at any time to$9$ look at him in$4$ the light of 
126:393,23['  ]| hospitality.  But he did not flatter himself that$3$ the
126:393,24['  ]| desire to$9$ repair a past injustice was the motive of
126:393,25['  ]| their visitor's calls; he read the situation more
126:393,26['  ]| clearly.  
126:393,26@b   | Isabel was the attraction, and in$4$ all conscience 
126:393,27@b  ]| a sufficient one.  Osmond was a critic, a 
126:394,01@b   | student of the exquisite, and it was natural he should
126:394,02@b   | be curious of so$5#1$ rare an apparition.  
126:394,02['  ]| So$3$ when his
126:394,03['  ]| mother observed to$4$ him that$3$ 
126:394,03@g   | it was plain what Mr%*Osmond
126:394,04@g   | was thinking of, 
126:394,04['  ]| Ralph replied that$3$ 
126:394,04@b   | he was
126:394,05@b   | quite of her opinion.  
126:394,05['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett had from far
126:394,06['  ]| back found a place on$4$ her scant list for$4$ this gentleman,
126:394,07['  ]| though wondering dimly by$4$ what art and what 
126:394,08['  ]| process ~~ so$5#1$ negative and so$5#1$ wise as they were ~~
126:394,09['  ]| he had everywhere effectively imposed himself.  As
126:394,10['  ]| he had never been an importunate visitor he had
126:394,11['  ]| had no$2$ chance to$9$ be offensive, and he was recommended
126:394,12['  ]| to$4$ her by$4$ his appearance of being as well
126:394,13['  ]| able to$9$ do without her as she was to$9$ do without him
126:394,14['  ]| ~~ a quality that$6#1$ always, oddly enough, affected
126:394,15['  ]| her as providing ground for$4$ a relation with her.  It
126:394,16['  ]| gave her no$2$ satisfaction, however, to$9$ think that$3$ he
126:394,17['  ]| had taken it into his head to$9$ marry her niece.  
126:394,17@g   | Such
126:394,18@g   | an alliance, on$4$ Isabel's part, would have an air of
126:394,19@g   | almost morbid perversity.  
126:394,19['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett easily
126:394,20['  ]| remembered that$3$ 
126:394,20@g   | the girl had refused an English
126:394,21@g   | peer; and that$3$ a young lady with whom Lord*Warburton
126:394,22@g   | had not successfully wrestled should content
126:394,23@g   | herself with an obscure American dilettante, a middle-aged
126:394,24@g   | widower with an uncanny child and an ambiguous 
126:394,25@g   | income, 
126:394,25['  ]| this answered to$4$ nothing in$4$ Mrs%*Touchett's 
126:394,26['  ]| conception of success.  She took, it will$1$
126:394,27['  ]| be observed, not the sentimental, but the political,
126:394,28['  ]| view of matrimony ~~ a view which$6#1$ has always had
126:394,29['  ]| much to$9$ recommend it.  
126:394,29[G  ]| "I trust she will$1$ not have the
126:394,30[G  ]| folly to$9$ listen to$4$ him," 
126:394,30['  ]| she said to$4$ her son; to$4$ which$6#1$
126:394,31['  ]| Ralph replied that$3$ 
126:394,31@b   | Isabel's listening was one thing 
126:394,32@b   | and Isabel's answering quite another.  
126:394,32['  ]| He knew she
126:395,01['  ]| had listened to$4$ several parties, as his father would
126:395,02['  ]| have said, but had made them listen in$4$ return; and
126:395,03['  ]| he found much entertainment in$4$ the idea that$3$ 
126:395,03@b   | in$4$ 
126:395,04@b   | these few months of his knowing her he should observe
126:395,05@b   | a fresh suitor at her gate.  She had wanted
126:395,06@b   | to$9$ see life, and fortune was serving her to$4$ her taste;
126:395,07@b   | a succession of fine gentlemen going down on$4$ their
126:395,08@b   | knees to$4$ her would do as well as anything else.  
126:395,08['  ]| Ralph
126:395,09['  ]| looked forward to$4$ a fourth, a fifth, a tenth besieger;
126:395,10['  ]| he had no$2$ conviction she would stop at a third.
126:395,11@b   | She would keep the gate ajar and open a parley; she
126:395,12@b   | would certainly not allow number three to$9$ come in$5$.
126:395,13['  ]| He expressed this view, somewhat after this fashion,
126:395,14['  ]| to$4$ his mother, who$6#1$ looked at him as if he had been
126:395,15['  ]| dancing a jig.  He had such a fanciful, pictorial way
126:395,16['  ]| of saying things that$3$ he might as well address her
126:395,17['  ]| in$4$ the deaf-mute's alphabet.
126:395,18[G  ]| "I do not think I know what you mean," 
126:395,18['  ]| she said;
126:395,19[G  ]| "you use too many figures of speech; I could never
126:395,20[G  ]| understand allegories.  The two words in$4$ the language
126:395,21[G  ]| I most respect are Yes and No$7$.  If Isabel wants to$9$ 
126:395,22[G  ]| marry Mr%*Osmond she will$1$ do so$5#2$ in$4$ spite of all your
126:395,23[G  ]| comparisons.  Let her alone to$9$ find a fine one herself
126:395,24[G  ]| for$4$ anything she undertakes.  I know very little 
126:395,25[G  ]| about the young man in$4$ America; I do not think
126:395,26[G  ]| she spends much of her time in$4$ thinking of him, and
126:395,27[G  ]| I suspect he has got tired of waiting for$4$ her.  There is
126:395,28[G  ]| nothing in$4$ life to$9$ prevent her marrying Mr%*Osmond
126:395,29[G  ]| if she only looks at him in$4$ a certain way.  That$6#2$ is
126:395,30[G  ]| all very well; no*one approves more than I of one's
126:395,31[G  ]| pleasing one's self.  But she takes her pleasure in$4$
126:395,32[G  ]| such odd things; she is capable of marrying Mr%*Osmond
126:396,01[G  ]| for$4$ the beauty of his opinions or for$4$ his
126:396,02[G  ]| autograph of Michael*Angelo.  She wants to$9$ be
126:396,03[G  ]| disinterested: as if she were the only person who$6#1$ is in$4$
126:396,04[G  ]| danger of not being so$5#2$!  Will$1$ \he\ be so$5#1$ disinterested
126:396,05[G  ]| when he has the spending of her money?  That$6#2$ was
126:396,06[G  ]| her idea before your father's death, and it has acquired
126:396,07[G  ]| new charms for$4$ her since.  She ought to$9$ 
126:396,08[G  ]| marry some*one of whose disinterestedness she shall
126:396,09[G  ]| herself be sure; and there would be no$2$ such proof
126:396,10[G  ]| of that$6#2$ as his having a fortune of his own."
126:396,11[B  ]| "My dear mother, I am not afraid," 
126:396,11['  ]| Ralph answered.
126:396,12[B  ]| "She is making fools of us all.  She will$1$
126:396,13[B  ]| please herself, of course; but she will$1$ do so$5#2$ by$4$ studying
126:396,14[B  ]| human nature at close quarters and yet retaining 
126:396,15[B  ]| her liberty.  She has started on$4$ an exploring
126:396,16[B  ]| expedition, and I do not think she will$1$ change her course,
126:396,17[B  ]| at the outset, at a signal from Gilbert*Osmond.
126:396,18[B  ]| She may have slackened speed for$4$ an hour, but before 
126:396,19[B  ]| we know it she will$1$ be steaming away again.
126:396,20[B  ]| Excuse another metaphor."
126:396,21['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett excused it perhaps, but was not so$5#1$
126:396,22['  ]| much reassured as to$9$ withhold from Madame*Merle
126:396,23['  ]| the expression of her fears.  
126:396,23[G  ]| "You who$6#1$ know everything,"
126:396,24['  ]| she said, 
126:396,24[G  ]| "you must know this: whether that$6#2$
126:396,25[G  ]| curious creature is really making love to$4$ my niece."
126:396,26[H  ]| "Gilbert*Osmond?" 
126:396,26['  ]| Madame*Merle widened
126:396,27['  ]| her clear eyes and, with a full intelligence, 
126:396,27[H  ]| "Heaven
126:396,28[H  ]| help us," 
126:396,28['  ]| she exclaimed, 
126:396,28[H  ]| "that$6#2$ is an idea!"
126:396,29[G  ]| "Had not it occurred to$4$ you?"
126:396,30[H  ]| "You make me feel an idiot, but I confess it
126:396,31[H  ]| had not.  I wonder," 
126:396,31['  ]| she added, 
126:396,31[H  ]| "if it has occurred
126:396,32[H  ]| to$4$ Isabel."
126:397,01[G  ]| "Oh, I shall now ask her," 
126:397,01['  ]| said Mrs*Touchett.
126:397,02['  ]| Madame*Merle reflected.  
126:397,02[H  ]| "Do not put it into her 
126:397,03[H  ]| head.  The thing would be to$9$ ask Mr%*Osmond."
126:397,04[G  ]| "I can not do that$6#2$," 
126:397,04['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett.  
126:397,04[G  ]| "I will$1$ not
126:397,05[G  ]| have him enquire of me ~~ as he perfectly may with
126:397,06[G  ]| that$6#2$ air of his, given Isabel's situation ~~ what business
126:397,07[G  ]| it is of mine."
126:397,08[H  ]| "I will$1$ ask him myself," 
126:397,08['  ]| Madame*Merle bravely
126:397,09['  ]| declared.
126:397,10[G  ]| "But what business ~~ for$4$ \him\ ~~ is it of yours?"
126:397,11[H  ]| "It is being none whatever is just why I can afford
126:397,12[H  ]| to$9$ speak.  It is so$5#1$ much less my business than 
126:397,13[H  ]| any*one's else that$3$ he can put me off with anything
126:397,14[H  ]| he chooses.  But it will$1$ be by$4$ the way he does this 
126:397,15[H  ]| that$3$ I shall know."
126:397,16[G  ]| "Pray let me hear then," 
126:397,16['  ]| said Mrs%*Touchett,
126:397,17[G  ]| "of the fruits of your penetration.  If I can not speak
126:397,18[G  ]| to$4$ him, however, at least I can speak to$4$ Isabel."
126:397,19['  ]| Her companion sounded at this the note of warning.
126:397,20[H  ]| "Do not be too quick with her.  Do not inflame
126:397,21[H  ]| her imagination."
126:397,22[G  ]| "I never did anything in$4$ life to$4$ any*one's imagination.
126:397,23[G  ]| But I am always sure of her doing something
126:397,24[G  ]| ~~ well, not of \my\ kind."
126:397,25[H  ]| "No$7$, you would not like$1$ this," 
126:397,25['  ]| Madame*Merle
126:397,26['  ]| observed without the point of interrogation.
126:397,27[G  ]| "Why in$4$ the world should I, pray?  Mr%*Osmond
126:397,28[G  ]| has nothing the least solid to$9$ offer."
126:397,29['  ]| Again Madame*Merle was silent while her
126:397,30['  ]| thoughtful smile drew up$5$ her mouth even more
126:397,31['  ]| charmingly than usual toward the left corner.  
126:397,31[H  ]| "Let
126:397,32[H  ]| us distinguish.  Gilbert*Osmond is certainly not the 
126:398,01[H  ]| first comer.  He is a man who$6#1$ in$4$ favourable conditions
126:398,02[H  ]| might very well make a great impression.  He
126:398,03[H  ]| has made a great impression, to$4$ my knowledge, more
126:398,04[H  ]| than once."
126:398,05[G  ]| "Do not tell me about his probably quite cold-blooded
126:398,06[G  ]| love-affairs; they are nothing to$4$ me!"  
126:398,06['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett 
126:398,07['  ]| cried.  
126:398,07[G  ]| "What you say is precisely why I 
126:398,08[G  ]| wish he would cease his visits.  He has nothing in$4$ the
126:398,09[G  ]| world that$6#1$ I know of but a dozen or two of early 
126:398,10[G  ]| masters and a more or less pert little daughter."
126:398,11[H  ]| "The early masters are now worth a good deal 
126:398,12[H  ]| of money," 
126:398,12['  ]| said Madame*Merle, 
126:398,12[H  ]| "and the daughter is
126:398,13[H  ]| a very young and very innocent and very harmless
126:398,14[H  ]| person."
126:398,15[G  ]| "In$4$ other words she is an insipid little chit.  Is
126:398,16[G  ]| that$6#2$ what you mean?  Having no$2$ fortune she can not
126:398,17[G  ]| hope to$9$ marry as they marry here; so$3$ that$3$ Isabel
126:398,18[G  ]| will$1$ have to$9$ furnish her either with a maintenance
126:398,19[G  ]| or with a dowry."
126:398,20[H  ]| "Isabel probably would not object to$4$ being kind
126:398,21[H  ]| to$4$ her.  I think she likes the poor child."
126:398,22[G  ]| "Another reason then for$4$ Mr%*Osmond's stopping
126:398,23[G  ]| at home!  Otherwise, a week hence, we shall have 
126:398,24[G  ]| my niece arriving at the conviction that$3$ her mission
126:398,25[G  ]| in$4$ life is to$9$ prove that$3$ a stepmother may sacrifice
126:398,26[G  ]| herself ~~ and that$3$, to$9$ prove it, she must first 
126:398,27[G  ]| become one."
126:398,28[H  ]| "She would make a charming stepmother,"
126:398,29['  ]| smiled Madame*Merle; 
126:398,29[H  ]| "but I quite agree with 
126:398,30[H  ]| you that$3$ she had better not decide upon$4$ her mission
126:398,31[H  ]| too hastily.  Changing the form of one's mission is
126:398,32[H  ]| almost as difficult as changing the shape of one's
126:399,01[H  ]| nose:  there they are, each, in$4$ the middle of one's
126:399,02[H  ]| face and one's character ~~ one has to$9$ begin too far
126:399,03[H  ]| back.  But I will$1$ investigate and report to$4$ you."
126:399,04['  ]| All this went on$5$ quite over Isabel's head; she
126:399,05['  ]| had no$2$ suspicions that$3$ her relations with Mr%*Osmond
126:399,06['  ]| were being discussed.  Madame*Merle had said
126:399,07['  ]| nothing to$9$ put her on$4$ her guard; she alluded no$2$
126:399,08['  ]| more pointedly to$4$ him than to$4$ the other gentlemen
126:399,09['  ]| of Florence, native and foreign, who$6#1$ now arrived
126:399,10['  ]| in$4$ considerable numbers to$9$ pay their respects to$4$
126:399,11['  ]| Miss*Archer's aunt.  Isabel thought him interesting
126:399,12['  ]| ~~ she came back to$4$ that$6#2$; she liked so$5#2$ to$9$ think
126:399,13['  ]| of him.  She had carried away an image from her
126:399,14['  ]| visit to$4$ his hill-top which$6#1$ her subsequent knowledge
126:399,15['  ]| of him did nothing to$9$ efface and which$6#1$ put on$5$ for$4$
126:399,16['  ]| her a particular harmony with other supposed and
126:399,17['  ]| divined things, histories within histories: the image
126:399,18['  ]| of 
126:399,18@a   | a quiet, clever, sensitive, distinguished man,
126:399,19@a   | strolling on$4$ a moss-grown terrace above the sweet
126:399,20@a   | Val*d'Arno and holding by$4$ the hand a little girl
126:399,21@a   | whose bell-like clearness gave a new grace to$4$ childhood.
126:399,22['  ]| The picture had no$2$ flourishes, but she liked
126:399,23['  ]| its lowness of tone and the atmosphere of summer
126:399,24['  ]| twilight that$6#1$ pervaded it.  
126:399,24@a   | It spoke of the kind of
126:399,25@a   | personal issue that$6#1$ touched her most nearly; of
126:399,26@a   | the choice between objects, subjects, contacts ~~
126:399,27@a   | what might she call them? ~~ of a thin and those
126:399,28@a   | of a rich association; of a lonely, studious life in$4$ a 
126:399,29@a   | lovely land; of an old sorrow that$6#1$ sometimes ached
126:399,30@a   | to-day; of a feeling of pride that$6#1$ was perhaps exaggerated, 
126:399,31@a   | but that$6#1$ had an element of nobleness;
126:399,32@a   | of a care for$4$ beauty and perfection so$5#1$ natural and
126:400,01@a   | so$5#1$ cultivated together that$3$ the career appeared to$9$ 
126:400,02@a   | stretch beneath it in$4$ the disposed vistas and with 
126:400,03@a   | the ranges of steps and terraces and fountains of a 
126:400,04@a   | formal Italian garden ~~ allowing only for$4$ arid
126:400,05@a   | places freshened by$4$ the natural dews of a quaint
126:400,06@a   | half-anxious, half-helpless fatherhood.  At Palazzo*Crescentini 
126:400,07@a   | Mr%*Osmond's manner remained the same; 
126:400,08@a   | diffident at first ~~ oh self-conscious beyond
126:400,09@a   | doubt! and full of the effort (visible only to$4$ a sympathetic
126:400,10@a   | eye) to$9$ overcome this disadvantage; an
126:400,11@a   | effort which$6#1$ usually resulted in$4$ a great deal of easy,
126:400,12@a   | lively, very positive, rather aggressive, always suggestive
126:400,13@a   | talk.  
126:400,13['  ]| Mr%*Osmond's talk was not injured
126:400,14['  ]| by$4$ the indication of an eagerness to$9$ shine; Isabel
126:400,15['  ]| found no$2$ difficulty in$4$ believing that$3$ a person was
126:400,16['  ]| sincere who$6#1$ had so$5#1$ many of the signs of strong conviction
126:400,17['  ]| ~~ as for$4$ instance an explicit and graceful
126:400,18['  ]| appreciation of anything that$6#1$ might be said on$4$ his
126:400,19['  ]| own side of the question, said perhaps by$4$ Miss*Archer
126:400,20['  ]| in$4$ especial.  What continued to$9$ please this young
126:400,21['  ]| woman was that$3$ 
126:400,21@a   | while he talked so$5#2$ for$4$ amusement
126:400,22@a   | he did not talk, as she had heard people, for$4$ "effect." 
126:400,23@a   | He uttered his ideas as if, odd as they often appeared,
126:400,24@a   | he were used to$4$ them and had lived with them; old
126:400,25@a   | polished knobs and heads and handles, of precious
126:400,26@a   | substance, that$6#1$ could be fitted if necessary to$4$ new
126:400,27@a   | walking-sticks ~~ not switches plucked in$4$ destitution
126:400,28@a   | from the common tree and then too elegantly
126:400,29@a   | waved about.  
126:400,29['  ]| One day he brought his small daughter
126:400,30['  ]| with him, and she rejoiced to$9$ renew acquaintance
126:400,31['  ]| with the child, who$6#1$, as she presented her forehead
126:400,32['  ]| to$9$ be kissed by$4$ every member of the circle, reminded
126:401,01['  ]| her vividly of an \9ing=enue\ in$4$ a French play.  Isabel
126:401,02['  ]| had never seen a little person of this pattern; 
126:401,02@a   | American
126:401,03@a   | girls were very different ~~ different too were the 
126:401,04@a   | maidens of England.  Pansy was so$5#2$ formed and
126:401,05@a   | finished for$4$ her tiny place in$4$ the world, and yet in$4$ 
126:401,06@a   | imagination, as one could see, so$5#1$ innocent and infantine.
126:401,07['  ]| She sat on$4$ the sofa by$4$ Isabel; she wore a 
126:401,08['  ]| small grenadine mantle and a pair of the useful
126:401,09['  ]| gloves that$6#1$ Madame*Merle had given her ~~ little
126:401,10['  ]| grey gloves with a single button.  She was like$4$ a sheet 
126:401,11['  ]| of blank paper ~~ the ideal \9jeune*fille\ of foreign 
126:401,12['  ]| fiction.  Isabel hoped that$3$ so$5#1$ fair and smooth a page
126:401,13['  ]| would be covered with an edifying text.
126:401,14['  ]| The Countess*Gemini also came to$9$ call upon$4$ her,
126:401,15['  ]| but the Countess was quite another affair.  She was
126:401,16['  ]| by$4$ no$2$ means a blank sheet; she had been written
126:401,17['  ]| over in$4$ a variety of hands, and Mrs%*Touchett, who$6#1$ 
126:401,18['  ]| felt by$4$ no$2$ means honoured by$4$ her visit, pronounced
126:401,19['  ]| that$3$ 
126:401,19@g   | a number of unmistakeable blots were to$9$ be seen
126:401,20@g   | upon$4$ her surface.  
126:401,20['  ]| The Countess gave rise indeed to$4$ 
126:401,21['  ]| some discussion between the mistress of the house 
126:401,22['  ]| and the visitor from Rome, in$4$ which$6#1$ Madame*Merle
126:401,23['  ]| (who$6#1$ was not such a fool as to$9$ irritate people by$4$ always
126:401,24['  ]| agreeing with them) availed herself felicitously
126:401,25['  ]| enough of that$6#2$ large licence of dissent which$6#1$ her
126:401,26['  ]| hostess permitted as freely as she practised it.  Mrs%*Touchett
126:401,27['  ]| had declared it 
126:401,27@g   | a piece of audacity that$3$ this
126:401,28@g   | highly compromised character should have presented
126:401,29@g   | herself at such a time of day at the door of a house in$4$
126:401,30@g   | which$6#1$ she was esteemed so$5#1$ little as she must long
126:401,31@g   | have known herself to$9$ be at Palazzo*Crescentini.
126:401,32['  ]| Isabel had been made acquainted with the estimate
126:402,01['  ]| prevailing under that$6#2$ roof: it represented Mr%*Osmond's
126:402,02['  ]| sister as a lady who$6#1$ had so$5#2$ mismanaged her
126:402,03['  ]| improprieties that$3$ they had ceased to$9$ hang together
126:402,04['  ]| at all ~~ which$6#1$ was at the least what one asked of
126:402,05['  ]| such matters ~~ and had become the mere floating
126:402,06['  ]| fragments of a wrecked renown, incommoding social
126:402,07['  ]| circulation.  She had been married by$4$ her mother ~~
126:402,08['  ]| a more administrative person, with an appreciation
126:402,09['  ]| of foreign titles which$6#1$ the daughter, to$9$ do her justice,
126:402,10['  ]| had probably by$4$ this time thrown off ~~ to$4$ an Italian
126:402,11['  ]| nobleman who$6#1$ had perhaps given her some excuse
126:402,12['  ]| for$4$ attempting to$9$ quench the consciousness of outrage.
126:402,13['  ]| The Countess, however, had consoled herself
126:402,14['  ]| outrageously, and the list of her excuses had now lost
126:402,15['  ]| itself in$4$ the labyrinth of her adventures.  Mrs%*Touchett
126:402,16['  ]| had never consented to$9$ receive her, though the 
126:402,17['  ]| Countess had made overtures of old.  Florence was
126:402,18['  ]| not an austere city; but, as Mrs%*Touchett said, 
126:402,18@g   | she
126:402,19@g   | had to$9$ draw the line somewhere.
126:402,20['  ]| Madame*Merle defended the luckless lady with
126:402,21['  ]| a great deal of zeal and wit.  
126:402,21@h   | She could not see why
126:402,22@h   | Mrs%*Touchett should make a scapegoat of a woman
126:402,23@h   | who$6#1$ had really done no$2$ harm, who$6#1$ had only done
126:402,24@h   | good in$4$ the wrong way.  One must certainly draw
126:402,25@h   | the line, but while one was about it one should draw
126:402,26@h   | it straight: it was a very crooked chalk-mark that$6#1$ 
126:402,27@h   | would exclude the Countess*Gemini.  In$4$ that$6#2$ case
126:402,28@h   | Mrs%*Touchett had better shut up$5$ her house; this
126:402,29@h   | perhaps would be the best course so$5#1$ long as she remained 
126:402,30@h   | in$4$ Florence.  One must be fair and not make 
126:402,31@h   | arbitrary differences: the Countess had doubtless
126:402,32@h   | been imprudent, she had not been so$5#1$ clever as other
126:403,01@h   | women.  She was a good creature, not clever at all;
126:403,02@h   | but since when had that$6#2$ been a ground of exclusion
126:403,03@h   | from the best society?  For$4$ ever so$5#1$ long now one
126:403,04@h   | had heard nothing about her, and there could be
126:403,05@h   | no$2$ better proof of her having renounced the error of
126:403,06@h   | her ways than her desire to$9$ become a member of Mrs%*Touchett's 
126:403,07@h   | circle.  
126:403,07['  ]| Isabel could contribute nothing
126:403,08['  ]| to$4$ this interesting dispute, not even a patient attention;
126:403,09['  ]| she contented herself with having given a friendly
126:403,10['  ]| welcome to$4$ the unfortunate lady, who$6#1$, whatever
126:403,11['  ]| her defects, had at least the merit of being Mr%*Osmond's 
126:403,12['  ]| sister.  As she liked the brother Isabel thought
126:403,13['  ]| it proper to$9$ try and like$1$ the sister: in$4$ spite of the
126:403,14['  ]| growing complexity of things she was still capable
126:403,15['  ]| of these primitive sequences.  She had not received
126:403,16['  ]| the happiest impression of the Countess on$4$ meeting
126:403,17['  ]| her at the villa, but was thankful for$4$ an opportunity
126:403,18['  ]| to$9$ repair the accident.  
126:403,18@a   | Had not Mr%*Osmond remarked
126:403,19@a   | that$3$ she was a respectable person?  
126:403,19['  ]| To$9$ have 
126:403,20['  ]| proceeded from Gilbert*Osmond this was a crude 
126:403,21['  ]| proposition, but Madame*Merle bestowed upon$4$ it
126:403,22['  ]| a certain improving polish.  She told Isabel more
126:403,23['  ]| about the poor Countess than Mr%*Osmond had
126:403,24['  ]| done, and related the history of her marriage and its 
126:403,25['  ]| consequences.  
126:403,25@h   | The Count was a member of an ancient
126:403,26@h   | Tuscan family, but of such small estate that$3$ he
126:403,27@h   | had been glad to$9$ accept Amy*Osmond, in$4$ spite of 
126:403,28@h   | the questionable beauty which$6#1$ had yet not hampered
126:403,29@h   | her career, with the modest dowry her mother was
126:403,30@h   | able to$9$ offer ~~ a sum about equivalent to$4$ that$6#2$ which$6#1$ 
126:403,31@h   | had already formed her brother's share of their 
126:403,32@h   | patrimony.  Count*Gemini since then, however, had
126:404,01@h   | inherited money, and now they were well enough off,
126:404,02@h   | as Italians went, though Amy was horribly extravagant.  
126:404,03@h   | The Count was a low-lived brute; he had given
126:404,04@h   | his wife every pretext.  She had no$2$ children; she had
126:404,05@h   | lost three within a year of their birth.  Her mother,
126:404,06@h   | who$6#1$ had bristled with pretensions to$4$ elegant learning
126:404,07@h   | and published descriptive poems and corresponded
126:404,08@h   | on$4$ Italian subjects with the English weekly journals,
126:404,09@h   | her mother had died three years after the Countess's
126:404,10@h   | marriage, the father, lost in$4$ the grey American dawn
126:404,11@h   | of the situation, but reputed originally rich and wild,
126:404,12@h   | having died much earlier.  One could see this in$4$ Gilbert*Osmond,
126:404,13['  ]| Madame*Merle held ~~ 
126:404,13@h   | see that$3$ he had
126:404,14@h   | been brought up$5$ by$4$ a woman; though, to$9$ do him
126:404,15@h   | justice, one would suppose it had been by$4$ a more
126:404,16@h   | sensible woman than the American Corinne, as Mrs%*Osmond 
126:404,17@h   | had liked to$9$ be called.  
126:404,17['  ]| She had brought her
126:404,18['  ]| children to$4$ Italy after her husband's death, and Mrs%*Touchett
126:404,19['  ]| remembered her during the year that$6#1$ followed 
126:404,20['  ]| her arrival.  She thought her a horrible snob;
126:404,21['  ]| but this was an irregularity of judgement on$4$ Mrs%*Touchett's
126:404,22['  ]| part, for$3$ she, like$4$ Mrs%*Osmond, approved
126:404,23['  ]| of political marriages.  
126:404,23@h   | The Countess was very good
126:404,24@h   | company and not really the featherhead she seemed;
126:404,25@h   | all one had to$9$ do with her was to$9$ observe the simple
126:404,26@h   | condition of not believing a word she said.  
126:404,26['  ]| Madame*Merle
126:404,27['  ]| had always made the best of her for$4$ her brother's
126:404,28['  ]| sake; 
126:404,28@h   | he appreciated any kindness shown to$4$
126:404,29@h   | Amy, because (if it had to$9$ be confessed for$4$ him) he
126:404,30@h   | rather felt she let down their common name.  Naturally
126:404,31@h   | he could not like$1$ her style, her shrillness, her
126:404,32@h   | egotism, her violations of taste and above all of
126:405,01@h   | truth: she acted badly on$4$ his nerves, she was not
126:405,02@h   | \his\ sort of woman.  What was his sort of woman?
126:405,03@h   | Oh, the very opposite of the Countess, a woman to$4$ 
126:405,04@h   | whom the truth should be habitually sacred.  
126:405,04['  ]| Isabel
126:405,05['  ]| was unable to$9$ estimate the number of times her visitor
126:405,06['  ]| had, in$4$ half an hour, profaned it: the Countess indeed
126:405,07['  ]| had given her an impression of rather silly sincerity.
126:405,08['  ]| She had talked almost exclusively about herself;
126:405,09@j   | how much she should like$1$ to$9$ know Miss*Archer;
126:405,10@j   | how thankful she should be for$4$ a real friend; how
126:405,11@j   | base the people in$4$ Florence were; how tired she was 
126:405,12@j   | of the place; how much she should like$1$ to$9$ live somewhere
126:405,13@j   | else ~~ in$4$ Paris, in$4$ London, in$4$ Washington;
126:405,14@j   | how impossible it was to$9$ get anything nice to$9$ wear
126:405,15@j   | in$4$ Italy except a little old lace; how dear the world
126:405,16@j   | was growing everywhere; what a life of suffering and 
126:405,17@j   | privation she had led.  
126:405,17['  ]| Madame*Merle listened with
126:405,18['  ]| interest to$4$ Isabel's account of this passage, but she
126:405,19['  ]| had not needed it to$9$ feel exempt from anxiety.  On$4$
126:405,20['  ]| the whole she was not afraid of the Countess, and 
126:405,21['  ]| she could afford to$9$ do what was altogether best ~~ 
126:405,22['  ]| not to$9$ appear so$5#2$.
126:405,23['  ]| Isabel had meanwhile another visitor, whom it was
126:405,24['  ]| not, even behind her back, so$5#1$ easy a matter to$9$ patronise.
126:405,25['  ]| Henrietta*Stackpole, who$6#1$ had left Paris after
126:405,26['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett's departure for$4$ San*Remo and had
126:405,27['  ]| worked her way down, as she said, through the cities
126:405,28['  ]| of North Italy, reached the banks of the Arno about
126:405,29['  ]| the middle of May.  Madame*Merle surveyed her
126:405,30['  ]| with a single glance, took her in$5$ from head to$4$ foot, and
126:405,31['  ]| after a pang of despair determined to$9$ endure her.  She
126:405,32['  ]| determined indeed to$9$ delight in$4$ her.  
126:405,32@h   | She might not be
126:406,01@h   | inhaled as a rose, but she might be grasped as a nettle.
126:406,02['  ]| Madame*Merle genially squeezed her into insignificance,
126:406,03['  ]| and Isabel felt that$3$ in$4$ foreseeing this liberality
126:406,04['  ]| she had done justice to$4$ her friend's intelligence.  Henrietta's 
126:406,05['  ]| arrival had been announced by$4$ Mr%*Bantling,
126:406,06['  ]| who$6#1$, coming down from Nice while she was at Venice,
126:406,07['  ]| and expecting to$9$ find her in$4$ Florence, which$6#1$ she
126:406,08['  ]| had not yet reached, called at Palazzo*Crescentini to$9$ 
126:406,09['  ]| express his disappointment.  Henrietta's own advent 
126:406,10['  ]| occurred two days later and produced in$4$ Mr%*Bantling
126:406,11['  ]| an emotion amply accounted for$5$ by$4$ the fact that$3$ he
126:406,12['  ]| had not seen her since the termination of the episode
126:406,13['  ]| at Versailles.  The humorous view of his situation was
126:406,14['  ]| generally taken, but it was uttered only by$4$ Ralph*Touchett,
126:406,15['  ]| who$6#1$, in$4$ the privacy of his own apartment, 
126:406,16['  ]| when Bantling smoked a cigar there, indulged in$4$
126:406,17['  ]| goodness knew what strong comedy on$4$ the subject
126:406,18['  ]| of the all-judging one and her British backer.  This
126:406,19['  ]| gentleman took the joke in$4$ perfectly good part and
126:406,20['  ]| candidly confessed that$3$ 
126:406,20@w   | he regarded the affair as a 
126:406,21@w   | positive intellectual adventure.  He liked Miss*Stackpole
126:406,22@w   | extremely; he thought she had a wonderful head 
126:406,23@w   | on$4$ her shoulders, and found great comfort in$4$ the society 
126:406,24@w   | of a woman who$6#1$ was not perpetually thinking
126:406,25@w   | about what would be said and how what she did,
126:406,26@w   | how what \they\ did ~~ and they had done things! ~~
126:406,27@w   | would look.  Miss*Stackpole never cared how anything
126:406,28@w   | looked, and, if she did not care, pray why should
126:406,29@w   | he?  But his curiosity had been roused; he wanted 
126:406,30@w   | awfully to$9$ see if she ever \would\ care.  He was prepared
126:406,31@w   | to$9$ go as far as she ~~ he did not see why he
126:406,32@w   | should break down first.
126:407,01['  ]| Henrietta showed no$2$ signs of breaking down.  Her
126:407,02['  ]| prospects had brightened on$4$ her leaving England,
126:407,03['  ]| and she was now in$4$ the full enjoyment of her copious 
126:407,04['  ]| resources.  She had indeed been obliged to$9$ sacrifice
126:407,05['  ]| her hopes with regard to$4$ the inner life; the social
126:407,06['  ]| question, on$4$ the Continent, bristled with difficulties
126:407,07['  ]| even more numerous than those she had encountered
126:407,08['  ]| in$4$ England.  But on$4$ the Continent there was the outer
126:407,09['  ]| life, which$6#1$ was palpable and visible at every turn,
126:407,10['  ]| and more easily convertible to$4$ literary uses than the
126:407,11['  ]| customs of those opaque islanders.  
126:407,11@i   | Out of doors in$4$
126:407,12@i   | foreign lands, 
126:407,12['  ]| as she ingeniously remarked, 
126:407,12@i   | one 
126:407,13@i   | seemed to$9$ see the right side of the tapestry; out of
126:407,14@i   | doors in$4$ England one seemed to$9$ see the wrong side,
126:407,15@i   | which$6#1$ gave one no$2$ notion of the figure.  
126:407,15['  ]| The admission
126:407,16['  ]| costs her historian a pang, but Henrietta, despairing
126:407,17['  ]| of more occult things, was now paying much 
126:407,18['  ]| attention to$4$ the outer life.  She had been studying it
126:407,19['  ]| for$4$ two months at Venice, from which$6#1$ city she sent
126:407,20['  ]| to$4$ the \Interviewer\ a conscientious account of the 
126:407,21['  ]| gondolas, the Piazza, the Bridge*of*Sighs, the pigeons
126:407,22['  ]| and the young boatman who$6#1$ chanted Tasso.  The
126:407,23['  ]| \Interviewer\ was perhaps disappointed, but Henrietta
126:407,24['  ]| was at least seeing Europe.  Her present purpose was
126:407,25['  ]| to$9$ get down to$4$ Rome before the malaria should come
126:407,26['  ]| on$5$ ~~ she apparently supposed that$3$ it began on$4$ a 
126:407,27['  ]| fixed day; and with this design she was to$9$ spend at
126:407,28['  ]| present but few days in$4$ Florence.  Mr%*Bantling was 
126:407,29['  ]| to$9$ go with her to$4$ Rome, and she pointed out to$4$ Isabel
126:407,30['  ]| that$3$ 
126:407,30@i   | as he had been there before, as he was a military 
126:407,31@i   | man and as he had had a classical education ~~ he
126:407,32@i   | had been bred at Eton, where they study nothing but
126:408,01@i   | Latin and Whyte-Melville, 
126:408,01['  ]| said Miss*Stackpole ~~
126:408,02@i   | he would be a most useful companion in$4$ the city of 
126:408,03@i   | the Caesars.  
126:408,03['  ]| At this juncture Ralph had the happy 
126:408,04['  ]| idea of proposing to$4$ Isabel that$3$ 
126:408,04@b   | she also, under his
126:408,05@b   | own escort, should make a pilgrimage to$4$ Rome.  She
126:408,06@b   | expected to$9$ pass a portion of the next winter there ~~
126:408,07@b   | that$6#2$ was very well; but meantime there was no$2$ harm
126:408,08@b   | in$4$ surveying the field.  There were ten days left of the 
126:408,09@b   | beautiful month of May ~~ the most precious month 
126:408,10@b   | of all to$4$ the true Rome-lover.  Isabel would become
126:408,11@b   | a Rome-lover; that$6#2$ was a foregone conclusion.  She
126:408,12@b   | was provided with a trusty companion of her own sex,
126:408,13@b   | whose society, thanks to$4$ the fact of other calls on$4$ this
126:408,14@b   | lady's attention, would probably not be oppressive.
126:408,15@b   | Madame*Merle would remain with Mrs%*Touchett;
126:408,16@b   | she had left Rome for$4$ the summer and would not care
126:408,17@b   | to$9$ return.  
126:408,17['  ]| She professed herself delighted to$9$ be left at 
126:408,18['  ]| peace in$4$ Florence; she had locked up$5$ her apartment
126:408,19['  ]| and sent her cook home to$4$ Palestrina.  She urged
126:408,20['  ]| Isabel, however, to$9$ assent to$4$ Ralph's proposal, and
126:408,21['  ]| assured her that$3$ 
126:408,21@g   | a good introduction to$4$ Rome was not
126:408,22@g   | a thing to$9$ be despised.  
126:408,22['  ]| Isabel in$4$ truth needed  no$2$ 
126:408,23['  ]| urging, and the party of four arranged its little journey.
126:408,24['  ]| Mrs%*Touchett, on$4$ this occasion, had resigned herself
126:408,25['  ]| to$4$ the absence of a duenna; we have seen that$3$ she now
126:408,26['  ]| inclined to$4$ the belief that$3$ her niece should stand alone.
126:408,27['  ]| One of Isabel's preparations consisted of her seeing
126:408,28['  ]| Gilbert*Osmond before she started and mentioning
126:408,29['  ]| her intention to$4$ him.
126:408,30[C  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ be in$4$ Rome with you," 
126:408,30['  ]| he commented.
126:408,31[C  ]| "I should like$1$ to$9$ see you on$4$ that$6#2$ wonderful
126:408,32[C  ]| ground."
126:409,01['  ]| She scarcely faltered.  
126:409,01[A  ]| "You might come then."
126:409,02[C  ]| "But you will$1$ have a lot of people with you."
126:409,03[A  ]| "Ah," 
126:409,03['  ]| Isabel admitted, 
126:409,03[A  ]| "of course I shall not be 
126:409,04[A  ]| alone."
126:409,05['  ]| For$4$ a moment he said nothing more.  
126:409,05[C  ]| "You will$1$ like$1$
126:409,06[C  ]| it," 
126:409,06['  ]| he went on$5$ at last.  
126:409,06[C  ]| "They have spoiled it, but
126:409,07[C  ]| you will$1$ rave about it."
126:409,08[A  ]| "Ought I to$9$ dislike it because, poor old dear ~~
126:409,09[A  ]| the Niobe of Nations, you know ~~ it has been
126:409,10[A  ]| spoiled?" 
126:409,10['  ]| she asked.
126:409,11[C  ]| "No$7$, I think not. It has been spoiled so$5#1$ often," 
126:409,11['  ]| he
126:409,12['  ]| smiled.  
126:409,12[C  ]| "If I were to$9$ go, what should I do with my
126:409,13[C  ]| little girl?"
126:409,14[A  ]| "can not you leave her at the villa?"
126:409,15[C  ]| "I do not know that$3$ I like$1$ that$6#2$ ~~ though there is a 
126:409,16[C  ]| very good old woman who$6#1$ looks after her.  I can not
126:409,17[C  ]| afford a governess."
126:409,18[A  ]| "Bring her with you then," 
126:409,18['  ]| said Isabel promptly.
126:409,19['  ]| Mr%*Osmond looked grave.  
126:409,19[C  ]| "She has been in$4$
126:409,20[C  ]| Rome all winter, at her convent; and she is too young
126:409,21[C  ]| to$9$ make journeys of pleasure."
126:409,22[A  ]| "You do not like$1$ bringing her forward?" 
126:409,22['  ]| Isabel
126:409,23['  ]| enquired.
126:409,24[C  ]| "No$7$, I think young girls should be kept out of the 
126:409,25[C  ]| world."
126:409,26[A  ]| "I was brought up$5$ on$4$ a different system."
126:409,27[C  ]| "You?  Oh, with you it succeeded, because you ~~ 
126:409,28[C  ]| you were exceptional."
126:409,29[A  ]| "I do not see why," 
126:409,29['  ]| said Isabel, who$6#1$, however, was
126:409,30['  ]| not sure there was not some truth in$4$ the speech.
126:409,31['  ]| Mr%*Osmond did not explain; he simply went on$5$:
126:409,32[C  ]| "If I thought it would make her resemble you to$9$ join
126:410,01[C  ]| a social group in$4$ Rome I would take her there to-morrow.
126:410,02[C  ]| 
126:410,03[A  ]| "Do not make her resemble me," 
126:410,03['  ]| said Isabel.
126:410,04[A  ]| "Keep her like$4$ herself."
126:410,05[C  ]| "I might send her to$4$ my sister," 
126:410,05['  ]| Mr%*Osmond observed.
126:410,06['  ]| He had almost the air of asking advice; he
126:410,07['  ]| seemed to$9$ like$1$ to$9$ talk over his domestic matters with
126:410,08['  ]| Miss*Archer.
126:410,09[A  ]| "Yes," 
126:410,09['  ]| she concurred; 
126:410,09[A  ]| "I think that$6#2$ would not do
126:410,10[A  ]| much towards making her resemble me!"
126:410,11['  ]| After she had left Florence Gilbert*Osmond met
126:410,12['  ]| Madame*Merle at the Countess*Gemini's.  There
126:410,13['  ]| were other people present; the Countess's drawing-room
126:410,14['  ]| was usually well filled, and the talk had been 
126:410,15['  ]| general, but after a while Osmond left his place and
126:410,16['  ]| came and sat on$4$ an ottoman half-behind, half-beside
126:410,17['  ]| Madame*Merle's chair.  
126:410,17[C  ]| "She wants me to$9$ go to$4$ Rome
126:410,18[C  ]| with her," 
126:410,18['  ]| he remarked in$4$ a low voice.
126:410,19[H  ]| "To$9$ go with her?"
126:410,20[C  ]| "To$9$ be there while she is there.  She proposed
126:410,21[C  ]| it."
126:410,22[H  ]| "I suppose you mean that$3$ you proposed it and 
126:410,23[H  ]| she assented."
126:410,24[C  ]| "Of course I gave her a chance.  But she is encouraging 
126:410,25[C  ]| ~~ she is very encouraging."
126:410,26[H  ]| "I rejoice to$9$ hear it ~~ but do not cry victory too
126:410,27[H  ]| soon.  Of course you will$1$ go to$4$ Rome."
126:410,28[C  ]| "Ah," 
126:410,28['  ]| said Osmond, 
126:410,28[C  ]| "it makes one work, this
126:410,29[C  ]| idea of yours!"
126:410,30[H  ]| "Do not pretend you do not enjoy it ~~ you are very
126:410,31[H  ]| ungrateful.  You have not been so$5#1$ well occupied these
126:410,32[H  ]| many years."
126:411,01[C  ]| "The way you take it is beautiful," 
126:411,01['  ]| said Osmond.
126:411,02[C  ]| "I ought to$9$ be grateful for$4$ that$6#2$."
126:411,03[H  ]| "Not too much so$5#2$, however," 
126:411,03['  ]| Madame*Merle answered.
126:411,04['  ]| She talked with her usual smile, leaning back 
126:411,05['  ]| in$4$ her chair and looking round the room.  
126:411,05[H  ]| "You have
126:411,06[H  ]| made a very good impression, and I have seen for$4$ myself 
126:411,07[H  ]| that$3$ you have received one.  You have not come to$4$ 
126:411,08[H  ]| Mrs%*Touchett's seven times to$9$ oblige me."
126:411,09[C  ]| "The girl is not disagreeable," 
126:411,09['  ]| Osmond quietly
126:411,10['  ]| conceded.
126:411,11['  ]| Madame*Merle dropped her eye on$4$ him a moment,
126:411,12['  ]| during which$6#1$ her lips closed with a certain firmness.
126:411,13[H  ]| "Is that$6#2$ all you can find to$9$ say about that$6#2$ fine
126:411,14[H  ]| creature?"
126:411,15[C  ]| "All?  Is not it enough?  Of how many people
126:411,16[C  ]| have you heard me say more?"
126:411,17['  ]| She made no$2$ answer to$4$ this, but still presented her
126:411,18['  ]| talkative grace to$4$ the room.  
126:411,18[H  ]| "You are unfathomable," 
126:411,19['  ]| she murmured at last.  
126:411,19[H  ]| "I am frightened at the 
126:411,20[H  ]| abyss into which$6#1$ I shall have cast her."
126:411,21['  ]| He took it almost gaily.  
126:411,21[C  ]| "You can not draw back ~~
126:411,22[C  ]| you have gone too far."
126:411,23[H  ]| "Very good; but you must do the rest yourself."
126:411,24[C  ]| "I shall do it," 
126:411,24['  ]| said Gilbert*Osmond.
126:411,25['  ]| Madame*Merle remained silent and he changed 
126:411,26['  ]| his place again; but when she rose to$9$ go he also took 
126:411,27['  ]| leave.  Mrs%*Touchett's victoria was awaiting her
126:411,28['  ]| guest in$4$ the court, and after he had helped his friend
126:411,29['  ]| into it he stood there detaining her.  
126:411,29[H  ]| "You are very
126:411,30[H  ]| indiscreet," 
126:411,30['  ]| she said rather wearily; 
126:411,30[H  ]| "you should not
126:411,31[H  ]| have moved when I did."
126:411,32['  ]| He had taken off his hat; he passed his hand over
126:412,01['  ]| his forehead. 
126:412,01[C  ]| "I always forget; I am out of the
126:412,02[C  ]| habit."
126:412,03[H  ]| "You are quite unfathomable," 
126:412,03['  ]| she repeated, glancing
126:412,04['  ]| up$5$ at the windows of the house, a modern structure
126:412,05['  ]| in$4$ the new part of the town.
126:412,06['  ]| He paid no$2$ heed to$4$ this remark, but spoke in$4$ his
126:412,07['  ]| own sense. 
126:412,07[C  ]| "She is really very charming. I have
126:412,08[C  ]| scarcely known any*one more graceful."
126:412,09[H  ]| "It does me good to$9$ hear you say that$6#2$. The better
126:412,10[H  ]| you like$1$ her the better for$4$ me."
126:412,11[C  ]| "I like$1$ her very much. She is all you described
126:412,12[C  ]| her, and into the bargain capable, I feel, of great devotion.
126:412,13[C  ]| She has only one fault."
126:412,14[H  ]| "What is that$6#2$?"
126:412,15[C  ]| "Too many ideas."
126:412,16[H  ]| "I warned you she was clever."
126:412,17[C  ]| "Fortunately they are very bad ones," 
126:412,17['  ]| said Osmond.
126:412,18[H  ]| "Why is that$6#2$ fortunate?"
126:412,19[C  ]| "\9Dame\, if they must be sacrificed!"
126:412,20['  ]| Madame*Merle leaned back, looking straight before 
126:412,21['  ]| her; then she spoke to$4$ the coachman. But her
126:412,22['  ]| friend again detained her. 
126:412,22[C  ]| "If I go to$4$ Rome what
126:412,23[C  ]| shall I do with Pansy?"
126:412,24[H  ]| "I will$1$ go and see her," 
126:412,24['  ]| said Madame*Merle.
127:413,01['  ]| I may not attempt to$9$ report in$4$ its fulness our young
127:413,02['  ]| woman's response to$4$ the deep appeal of Rome, to$9$
127:413,03['  ]| analyse her feelings as she trod the pavement of the
127:413,04['  ]| Forum or to$9$ number her pulsations as she crossed
127:413,05['  ]| the threshold of Saint*Peter's. It is enough to$9$ say
127:413,06['  ]| that$3$ her impression was such as might have been
127:413,07['  ]| expected of a person of her freshness and her eagerness.
127:413,08['  ]| She had always been fond of history, and
127:413,09['  ]| here was history in$4$ the stones of the street and the
127:413,10['  ]| atoms of the sunshine. She had an imagination that$6#1$
127:413,11['  ]| kindled at the mention of great deeds, and wherever
127:413,12['  ]| she turned some great deed had been acted. These
127:413,13['  ]| things strongly moved her, but moved her all inwardly.
127:413,14['  ]| It seemed to$4$ her companions that$3$ she talked
127:413,15['  ]| less than usual, and Ralph*Touchett, when he appeared
127:413,16['  ]| to$9$ be looking listlessly and awkwardly over
127:413,17['  ]| her head, was really dropping on$4$ her an intensity
127:413,18['  ]| of observation. By$4$ her own measure she was very
127:413,19['  ]| happy; she would even have been willing to$9$ take
127:413,20['  ]| these hours for$4$ the happiest she was ever to$9$ know.
127:413,21['  ]| The sense of the terrible human past was heavy to$4$
127:413,22['  ]| her, but that$6#2$ of something altogether contemporary
127:413,23['  ]| would suddenly give it wings that$6#1$ it could wave in$4$ the
127:413,24['  ]| blue. Her consciousness was so$5#1$ mixed that$3$ she
127:413,25['  ]| scarcely knew where the different parts of it would
127:413,26['  ]| lead her, and she went about in$4$ a repressed ecstasy
127:413,27['  ]| of contemplation, seeing often in$4$ the things she looked
127:414,01['  ]| at a great deal more than was there, and yet not seeing
127:414,02['  ]| many of the items enumerated in$4$ her Murray.
127:414,03@a   | Rome, as Ralph said,
127:414,03@a   | confessed to$4$ the psychological
127:414,04@a   | moment.  
127:414,04['  ]| The herd of ree+choing tourists had departed
127:414,05['  ]| and most of the solemn places had relapsed
127:414,06['  ]| into solemnity.  The sky was a blaze of blue, and the 
127:414,07['  ]| plash of the fountains in$4$ their mossy niches had lost
127:414,08['  ]| its chill and doubled its music.  On$4$ the corners of the 
127:414,09['  ]| warm, bright streets one stumbled on$4$ bundles of
127:414,10['  ]| flowers.  Our friends had gone one afternoon ~~ it
127:414,11['  ]| was the third of their stay ~~ to$9$ look at the latest excavations
127:414,12['  ]| in$4$ the Forum, these labours having been
127:414,13['  ]| for$4$ some time previous largely extended.  They had
127:414,14['  ]| descended from the modern street to$4$ the level of the 
127:414,15['  ]| Sacred*Way, along which$6#1$ they wandered with a reverence 
127:414,16['  ]| of step which$6#1$ was not the same on$4$ the part of 
127:414,17['  ]| each.  Henrietta*Stackpole was struck with the fact
127:414,18['  ]| that$3$ ancient Rome had been paved a good deal like$4$
127:414,19['  ]| New York, and even found an analogy between the 
127:414,20['  ]| deep chariot-ruts traceable in$4$ the antique street and 
127:414,21['  ]| the overjangled iron grooves which$6#1$ express the intensity 
127:414,22['  ]| of American life.  The sun had begun to$9$ sink,
127:414,23['  ]| the air was a golden haze, and the long shadows of 
127:414,24['  ]| broken column and vague pedestal leaned across the 
127:414,25['  ]| field of ruin.  Henrietta wandered away with Mr%*Bantling,
127:414,26['  ]| whom it was apparently delightful to$4$ her
127:414,27['  ]| to$9$ hear speak of Julius Caesar as a 
127:414,27[W  ]| "cheeky old boy,"
127:414,28['  ]| and Ralph addressed such elucidations as he was prepared
127:414,29['  ]| to$9$ offer to$4$ the attentive ear of our heroine.  One
127:414,30['  ]| of the humble archaeologists who$6#1$ hover about the 
127:414,31['  ]| place had put himself at the disposal of the two, and 
127:414,32['  ]| repeated his lesson with a fluency which$6#1$ the decline
127:415,01['  ]| of the season had done nothing to$9$ impair.  A process
127:415,02['  ]| of digging was on$4$ view in$4$ a remote corner of the 
127:415,03['  ]| Forum, and he presently remarked that$3$ 
127:415,03@w   | if it should
127:415,04@w   | please the \8signori\ to$9$ go and watch it a little they might
127:415,05@w   | see something of interest.  
127:415,05['  ]| The proposal commended
127:415,06['  ]| itself more to$4$ Ralph than to$4$ Isabel, weary with much 
127:415,07['  ]| wandering; so$3$ that$3$ she admonished her companion
127:415,08['  ]| to$9$ satisfy his curiosity while she patiently awaited his
127:415,09['  ]| return.  The hour and the place were much to$4$ her
127:415,10['  ]| taste ~~ she should enjoy being briefly alone.  Ralph
127:415,11['  ]| accordingly went off with the cicerone while Isabel
127:415,12['  ]| sat down on$4$ a prostrate column near the foundations
127:415,13['  ]| of the Capitol.  She wanted a short solitude, but she 
127:415,14['  ]| was not long to$9$ enjoy it.  Keen as was her interest in$4$ 
127:415,15['  ]| the rugged relics of the Roman past that$6#1$ lay scattered
127:415,16['  ]| about her and in$4$ which$6#1$ the corrosion of centuries had
127:415,17['  ]| still left so$5#1$ much of individual life, her thoughts, after
127:415,18['  ]| resting a while on$4$ these things, had wandered, by$4$ a 
127:415,19['  ]| concatenation of stages it might require some subtlety
127:415,20['  ]| to$9$ trace, to$4$ regions and objects charged with a more
127:415,21['  ]| active appeal.  From the Roman past to$4$ Isabel*Archer's
127:415,22['  ]| future was a long stride, but her imagination
127:415,23['  ]| had taken it in$4$ a single flight and now hovered in$4$ slow
127:415,24['  ]| circles over the nearer and richer field.  She was so$5#1$
127:415,25['  ]| absorbed in$4$ her thoughts, as she bent her eyes upon$4$
127:415,26['  ]| a row of cracked but not dislocated slabs covering the 
127:415,27['  ]| ground at her feet, that$3$ she had not heard the sound
127:415,28['  ]| of approaching footsteps before a shadow was thrown
127:415,29['  ]| across the line of her vision.  She looked up$5$ and saw 
127:415,30['  ]| a gentleman ~~ a gentleman who$6#1$ was not Ralph
127:415,31['  ]| come back to$9$ say that$3$ the excavations were a bore.
127:415,32['  ]| This personage was startled as she was startled; he
127:416,01['  ]| stood there baring his head to$4$ her perceptibly pale 
127:416,02['  ]| surprise.
127:416,03[A  ]| "Lord*Warburton!" 
127:416,03['  ]| Isabel exclaimed as she rose.
127:416,04[D  ]| "I had no$2$ idea it was you.  I turned that$6#2$ corner
127:416,05[D  ]| and came upon$4$ you."
127:416,06['  ]| She looked about her to$9$ explain. 
127:416,06[A  ]| "I am alone, but
127:416,07[A  ]| my companions have just left me.  My cousin has gone
127:416,08[A  ]| to$9$ look at the work over there."
127:416,09[D  ]| "Ah yes; I see."  
127:416,09['  ]| And Lord*Warburton's eyes
127:416,10['  ]| wandered vaguely in$4$ the direction she had indicated.
127:416,11['  ]| He stood firmly before her now; he had recovered
127:416,12['  ]| his balance and seemed to$9$ wish to$9$ show it, though
127:416,13['  ]| very kindly.  
127:416,13[D  ]| "Do not let me disturb you," 
127:416,13['  ]| he went on$5$,
127:416,14['  ]| looking at her dejected pillar.  
127:416,14[D  ]| "I am afraid you are
127:416,15[D  ]| tired."
127:416,16[A  ]| "Yes, I am rather tired."  
127:416,16['  ]| She hesitated a moment,
127:416,17['  ]| but sat down again.  
127:416,17[A  ]| "Do not let me interrupt \you\,"
127:416,18['  ]| she added.
127:416,19[D  ]| "Oh dear, I am quite alone, I have nothing on$4$ earth 
127:416,20[D  ]| to$9$ do.  I had no$2$ idea you were in$4$ Rome.  I have just 
127:416,21[D  ]| come from the East.  I am only passing through."
127:416,22[A  ]| "You have been making a long journey," 
127:416,22['  ]| said Isabel,
127:416,23['  ]| who$6#1$ had learned from Ralph that$3$ Lord*Warburton
127:416,24['  ]| was absent from England.
127:416,25[D  ]| "Yes, I came abroad for$4$ six months ~~ soon after
127:416,26[D  ]| I saw you last.  I have been in$4$ Turkey and Asia*Minor;
127:416,27[D  ]| I came the other day from Athens."  
127:416,27['  ]| He managed
127:416,28['  ]| not to$9$ be awkward, but he was not easy, and after
127:416,29['  ]| a longer look at the girl he came down to$4$ nature.  
127:416,29[D  ]| "Do
127:416,30[D  ]| you wish me to$9$ leave you, or will$1$ you let me stay a 
127:416,31[D  ]| little?"
127:416,32['  ]| She took it all humanely.  
127:416,32[A  ]| "I do not wish you to$9$ 
127:417,01[A  ]| leave me, Lord*Warburton; I am very glad to$9$ see 
127:417,02[A  ]| you."
127:417,03[D  ]| "Thank you for$4$ saying that$6#2$.  May I sit down?"
127:417,04['  ]| The fluted shaft on$4$ which$6#1$ she had taken her seat 
127:417,05['  ]| would have afforded a resting-place to$4$ several persons,
127:417,06['  ]| and there was plenty of room even for$4$ a 
127:417,07['  ]| highly-developed Englishman.  This fine specimen
127:417,08['  ]| of that$6#2$ great class seated himself near our young 
127:417,09['  ]| lady, and in$4$ the course of five minutes he had asked
127:417,10['  ]| her several questions, taken rather at random and
127:417,11['  ]| to$4$ which$6#1$, as he put some of them twice over, he apparently
127:417,12['  ]| somewhat missed catching the answer; had
127:417,13['  ]| given her too some information about himself which$6#1$
127:417,14['  ]| was not wasted upon$4$ her calmer feminine sense.  He
127:417,15['  ]| repeated more than once that$3$ he had not expected 
127:417,16['  ]| to$9$ meet her, and it was evident that$3$ the encounter
127:417,17['  ]| touched him in$4$ a way that$6#1$ would have made preparation
127:417,18['  ]| advisable.  He began abruptly to$9$ pass from the 
127:417,19['  ]| impunity of things to$4$ their solemnity, and from their
127:417,20['  ]| being delightful to$4$ their being impossible.  He was
127:417,21['  ]| splendidly sunburnt; even his multitudinous beard
127:417,22['  ]| had been burnished by$4$ the fire of Asia.  He was
127:417,23['  ]| dressed in$4$ the loose-fitting, heterogeneous garments
127:417,24['  ]| in$4$ which$6#1$ the English traveller in$4$ foreign lands is wont
127:417,25['  ]| to$9$ consult his comfort and affirm his nationality; and
127:417,26['  ]| with his pleasant steady eyes, his bronzed complexion,
127:417,27['  ]| fresh beneath its seasoning, his manly figure, 
127:417,28['  ]| his minimising manner and his general air of being a 
127:417,29['  ]| gentleman and an explorer, he was such a representative
127:417,30['  ]| of the British race as need not in$4$ any clime have
127:417,31['  ]| been disavowed by$4$ those who$6#1$ have a kindness for$4$ it.
127:417,32['  ]| Isabel noted these things and was glad she had always
127:418,01['  ]| liked him.  
127:418,01@a   | He had kept, evidently in$4$ spite of 
127:418,02@a   | shocks, every*one of his merits ~~ properties these
127:418,03@a   | partaking of the essence of great decent houses, as
127:418,04@a   | one might put it; resembling their innermost fixtures
127:418,05@a   | and ornaments, not subject to$4$ vulgar shifting and 
127:418,06@a   | removable only by$4$ some whole break-up.  
127:418,06['  ]| They talked
127:418,07['  ]| of the matters naturally in$4$ order; her uncle's death,
127:418,08['  ]| Ralph's state of health, the way she had passed her
127:418,09['  ]| winter, her visit to$4$ Rome, her return to$4$ Florence, her
127:418,10['  ]| plans for$4$ the summer, the hotel she was staying at;
127:418,11['  ]| and then of Lord*Warburton's own adventures,
127:418,12['  ]| movements, intentions, impressions and present
127:418,13['  ]| domicile.  At last there was silence, and it said so$5#2$
127:418,14['  ]| much more than either had said that$3$ it scarce needed
127:418,15['  ]| his final words.  
127:418,15[D  ]| "I have written to$4$ you several times."
127:418,16[A  ]| "Written to$4$ me?  I have never had your letters."
127:418,17[D  ]| "I never sent them.  I burned them up$5$."
127:418,18[A  ]| "Ah," 
127:418,18['  ]| laughed Isabel, 
127:418,18[A  ]| "it was better that$3$ you
127:418,19[A  ]| should do that$6#2$ than I!"
127:418,20[D  ]| "I thought you would not care for$4$ them," 
127:418,20['  ]| he went
127:418,21['  ]| on$5$ with a simplicity that$6#1$ touched her.  
127:418,21[D  ]| "It seemed
127:418,22[D  ]| to$4$ me that$3$ after all I had no$2$ right to$9$ trouble you with
127:418,23[D  ]| letters."
127:418,24[A  ]| "I should have been very glad to$9$ have news of 
127:418,25[A  ]| you.  You know how I hoped that$3$ ~~ that$3$ ~~ "  
127:418,25['  ]| But
127:418,26['  ]| she stopped; 
127:418,26@a   | there would be such a flatness in$4$ the 
127:418,27@a   | utterance of her thought.
127:418,28[D  ]| "I know what you are going to$9$ say.  You hoped
127:418,29[D  ]| we should always remain good friends."  
127:418,29@a   | This formula,
127:418,30@a   | as Lord*Warburton uttered it, was certainly flat
127:418,31@a   | enough; but then he was interested in$4$ making it
127:418,32@a   | appear so$5#2$.
127:419,01['  ]| She found herself reduced simply to$4$ 
127:419,01[A  ]| "Please do not 
127:419,02[A  ]| talk of all that$6#2$;" 
127:419,02['  ]| a speech which$6#1$ hardly struck her
127:419,03['  ]| as improvement on$4$ the other.
127:419,04[D  ]| "It is a small consolation to$9$ allow me!" 
127:419,04['  ]| her companion
127:419,05['  ]| exclaimed with force.
127:419,06[A  ]| "I can not pretend to$9$ console you," 
127:419,06['  ]| said the girl,
127:419,07['  ]| who$6#1$, all still as she sat there, threw herself back with
127:419,08['  ]| a sort of inward triumph on$4$ the answer that$6#1$ had satisfied 
127:419,09['  ]| him so$5#1$ little six months before.  
127:419,09@a   | He was pleasant,
127:419,10@a   | he was powerful, he was gallant; there was no$2$ better
127:419,11@a   | man than he.  But her answer remained.
127:419,12[D  ]| "It is very well you do not try to$9$ console me; it
127:419,13[D  ]| would not be in$4$ your power," 
127:419,13['  ]| she heard him say
127:419,14['  ]| through the medium of her strange elation.
127:419,15[A  ]| "I hoped we should meet again, because I had no$2$
127:419,16[A  ]| fear you would attempt to$9$ make me feel I had wronged
127:419,17[A  ]| you.  But when you do that$6#2$ ~~ the pain is greater than
127:419,18[A  ]| the pleasure."  
127:419,18['  ]| And she got up$5$ with a small conscious
127:419,19['  ]| majesty, looking for$4$ her companions.
127:419,20[D  ]| "I do not want to$9$ make you feel that$6#2$; of course I
127:419,21[D  ]| can not say that$6#2$.  I only just want you to$9$ know one or
127:419,22[D  ]| two things ~~ in$4$ fairness to$4$ myself, as it were.  I
127:419,23[D  ]| will$1$ not return to$4$ the subject again.  I felt very strongly
127:419,24[D  ]| what I expressed to$4$ you last year; I could not think
127:419,25[D  ]| of anything else.  I tried to$9$ forget ~~ energetically,
127:419,26[D  ]| systematically.  I tried to$9$ take an interest in$4$ somebody
127:419,27[D  ]| else.  I tell you this because I want you to$9$ know
127:419,28[D  ]| I did my duty.  I did not succeed.  It was for$4$ the same
127:419,29[D  ]| purpose I went abroad ~~ as far away as possible.
127:419,30[D  ]| They say travelling distracts the mind, but it did not
127:419,31[D  ]| distract mine.  I have thought of you perpetually,
127:419,32[D  ]| ever since I last saw you.  I am exactly the same.  I
127:420,01[D  ]| love you just as much, and everything I said to$4$ you 
127:420,02[D  ]| then is just as true.  This instant at which$6#1$ I speak to$4$
127:420,03[D  ]| you shows me again exactly how, to$4$ my great misfortune, 
127:420,04[D  ]| you just insuperably \charm\ me.  There ~~
127:420,05[D  ]| I can not say less.  I do not mean, however, to$9$ insist;
127:420,06[D  ]| it is only for$4$ a moment.  I may add that$3$ when I came
127:420,07[D  ]| upon$4$ you a few minutes since, without the smallest 
127:420,08[D  ]| idea of seeing you, I was, upon$4$ my honour, in$4$ the 
127:420,09[D  ]| very act of wishing I knew where you were."  
127:420,09['  ]| He had
127:420,10['  ]| recovered his self-control, and while he spoke it
127:420,11['  ]| became complete.  He might have been addressing
127:420,12['  ]| a small committee ~~ making all quietly and clearly
127:420,13['  ]| a statement of importance; aided by$4$ an occasional
127:420,14['  ]| look at a paper of notes concealed in$4$ his hat, which$6#1$
127:420,15['  ]| he had not again put on$5$.  And the committee, assuredly,
127:420,16['  ]| would have felt the point proved.
127:420,17[A  ]| "I have often thought of you, Lord*Warburton,"
127:420,18['  ]| Isabel answered.  
127:420,18[A  ]| "You may be sure I shall always
127:420,19[A  ]| do that$6#2$."  
127:420,19['  ]| And she added in$4$ a tone of which$6#1$ she tried
127:420,20['  ]| to$9$ keep up$5$ the kindness and keep down the meaning:
127:420,21[A  ]| "There is no$2$ harm in$4$ that$6#2$ on$4$ either side."
127:420,22['  ]| They walked along together, and she was prompt 
127:420,23['  ]| to$9$ ask about his sisters and request him to$9$ let them
127:420,24['  ]| know she had done so$5#2$.  He made for$4$ the moment no$2$ 
127:420,25['  ]| further reference to$4$ their great question, but dipped
127:420,26['  ]| again into shallower and safer waters.  But he wished
127:420,27['  ]| to$9$ know when she was to$9$ leave Rome, and on$4$ her
127:420,28['  ]| mentioning the limit of her stay declared he was glad
127:420,29['  ]| it was still so$5#1$ distant.
127:420,30[A  ]| "Why do you say that$6#2$ if you yourself are only passing
127:420,31[A  ]| through?" 
127:420,31['  ]| she enquired with some anxiety.
127:420,32[D  ]| "Ah, when I said I was passing through I did not
127:421,01[D  ]| mean that$3$ one would treat Rome as if it were Clapham*Junction.
127:421,02[D  ]| To$9$ pass through Rome is to$9$ stop a 
127:421,03[D  ]| week or two."
127:421,04[A  ]| "Say frankly that$3$ you mean to$9$ stay as long as I 
127:421,05[A  ]| do!"
127:421,06['  ]| His flushed smile, for$4$ a little, seemed to$9$ sound her.
127:421,07[D  ]| "You will$1$ not like$1$ that$6#2$.  You are afraid you will$1$ see too 
127:421,08[D  ]| much of me."
127:421,09[A  ]| "It does not matter what I like$1$.  I certainly can not
127:421,10[A  ]| expect you to$9$ leave this delightful place on$4$ my account.
127:421,11[A  ]| But I confess I am afraid of you."
127:421,12[D  ]| "Afraid I will$1$ begin again?  I promise to$9$ be very
127:421,13[D  ]| careful."
127:421,14['  ]| They had gradually stopped and they stood a moment 
127:421,15['  ]| face to$4$ face.  
127:421,15[A  ]| "Poor Lord*Warburton!" 
127:421,15['  ]| she
127:421,16['  ]| said with a compassion intended to$9$ be good for$4$ both
127:421,17['  ]| of them.
127:421,18[D  ]| "Poor Lord*Warburton indeed!  But I will$1$ be careful."
127:421,19[D  ]| 
127:421,20[A  ]| "You may be unhappy, but you shall not make 
127:421,21[A  ]| \me\ so$5#2$.  That$6#2$ I can not allow."
127:421,22[D  ]| "If I believed I could make you unhappy I think
127:421,23[D  ]| I should try it."  
127:421,23['  ]| At this she walked in$4$ advance and 
127:421,24['  ]| he also proceeded.  
127:421,24[D  ]| "I will$1$ never say a word to$9$ displease
127:421,25[D  ]| you."
127:421,26[A  ]| "Very good.  If you do, our friendship is at an end."
127:421,27[D  ]| "Perhaps some day ~~ after a while ~~ you will$1$ give 
127:421,28[D  ]| me leave."
127:421,29[A  ]| "Give you leave to$9$ make me unhappy?"
127:421,30['  ]| He hesitated.  
127:421,30[D  ]| "To$9$ tell you again ~~ "  
127:421,30['  ]| But he
127:421,31['  ]| checked himself.  
127:421,31[D  ]| "I will$1$ keep it down.  I will$1$ keep it 
127:421,32[D  ]| down always."
127:422,01['  ]| Ralph*Touchett had been joined in$4$ his visit to$4$ the 
127:422,02['  ]| excavation by$4$ Miss*Stackpole and her attendant,
127:422,03['  ]| and these three now emerged from among the mounds
127:422,04['  ]| of earth and stone collected round the aperture and 
127:422,05['  ]| came into sight of Isabel and her companion.  Poor
127:422,06['  ]| Ralph hailed his friend with joy qualified by$4$ wonder,
127:422,07['  ]| and Henrietta exclaimed in$4$ a high voice 
127:422,07[I  ]| "Gracious,
127:422,08[I  ]| there is that$6#2$ lord!" 
127:422,08['  ]| Ralph and his English neighbour
127:422,09['  ]| greeted with the austerity with which$6#1$, after long separations,
127:422,10['  ]| English neighbours greet, and Miss*Stackpole
127:422,11['  ]| rested her large intellectual gaze upon$4$ the sunburnt
127:422,12['  ]| traveller.  But she soon established her relation to$4$ 
127:422,13['  ]| the crisis.  
127:422,13[I  ]| "I do not suppose you remember me, sir."
127:422,14[D  ]| "Indeed I do remember you," 
127:422,14['  ]| said Lord*Warburton.
127:422,15[D  ]| "I asked you to$9$ come and see me, and you never 
127:422,16[D  ]| came."
127:422,17[I  ]| "I do not go everywhere I am asked," 
127:422,17['  ]| Miss*Stackpole
127:422,18['  ]| answered coldly.
127:422,19[D  ]| "Ah well, I will$1$ not ask you again," 
127:422,19['  ]| laughed the 
127:422,20['  ]| master of Lockleigh.
127:422,21[I  ]| "If you do I will$1$ go; so$3$ be sure!"
127:422,22['  ]| Lord*Warburton, for$4$ all his hilarity, seemed sure
127:422,23['  ]| enough.  Mr%*Bantling had stood by$5$ without claiming
127:422,24['  ]| a recognition, but he now took occasion to$9$ nod to$4$ his
127:422,25['  ]| lordship, who$6#1$ answered him with a friendly 
127:422,25[D  ]| "Oh,
127:422,26[D  ]| you here, Bantling?" 
127:422,26['  ]| and a hand-shake.
127:422,27[I  ]| "Well," 
127:422,27['  ]| said Henrietta, 
127:422,27[I  ]| "I did not know you knew
127:422,28[I  ]| him!"
127:422,29[W  ]| "I guess you do not know every*one I know," 
127:422,29['  ]| Mr%*Bantling
127:422,30['  ]| rejoined facetiously.
127:422,31[I  ]| "I thought that$3$ when an Englishman knew a lord
127:422,32[I  ]| he always told you."
127:423,01[D  ]| "Ah, I am afraid Bantling was ashamed of me,"
127:423,02['  ]| Lord*Warburton laughed again.  Isabel took pleasure
127:423,03['  ]| in$4$ that$6#2$ note; she gave a small sigh of relief as they
127:423,04['  ]| kept their course homeward.
127:423,05['  ]| The next day was Sunday; she spent her morning
127:423,06['  ]| over two long letters ~~ one to$4$ her sister Lily, the
127:423,07['  ]| other to$4$ Madame*Merle; but in$4$ neither of these
127:423,08['  ]| epistles did she mention the fact that$3$ a rejected suitor
127:423,09['  ]| had threatened her with another appeal.  Of a Sunday
127:423,10['  ]| afternoon all good Romans (and the best Romans
127:423,11['  ]| are often the northern barbarians) follow the custom
127:423,12['  ]| of going to$4$ vespers at Saint Peter's; and it had
127:423,13['  ]| been agreed among our friends that$3$ they would drive
127:423,14['  ]| together to$4$ the great church.  After lunch, an hour 
127:423,15['  ]| before the carriage came, Lord*Warburton presented
127:423,16['  ]| himself at the Ho^tel*de*Paris and paid a visit to$4$ the 
127:423,17['  ]| two ladies, Ralph*Touchett and Mr%*Bantling having
127:423,18['  ]| gone out together.  The visitor seemed to$9$ have wished
127:423,19['  ]| to$9$ give Isabel a proof of his intention to$9$ keep the 
127:423,20['  ]| promise made her the evening before; he was both
127:423,21['  ]| discreet and frank ~~ not even dumbly importunate
127:423,22['  ]| or remotely intense.  He thus left her to$9$ judge what
127:423,23['  ]| a mere good friend he could be.  He talked about his
127:423,24['  ]| travels, about Persia, about Turkey, and when Miss*Stackpole
127:423,25['  ]| asked him whether 
127:423,25@i   | it would "pay" for$4$ 
127:423,26@i   | her to$9$ visit those countries 
127:423,26['  ]| assured her 
127:423,26@d   | they offered a 
127:423,27@d   | great field to$4$ female enterprise.  
127:423,27['  ]| Isabel did him justice, 
127:423,28['  ]| but she wondered 
127:423,28@a   | what his purpose was and what he 
127:423,29@a   | expected to$9$ gain even by$4$ proving the superior strain
127:423,30@a   | of his sincerity.  If he expected to$9$ melt her by$4$ showing
127:423,31@a   | what a good fellow he was, he might spare himself 
127:423,32@a   | the trouble. She knew the superior strain of everything
127:424,01@a   | about him, and nothing he could do now was 
127:424,02@a   | required to$9$ light the view.  Moreover his being in$4$ 
127:424,03@a   | Rome at all affected her as a complication of the 
127:424,04@a   | wrong sort ~~ she liked so$5#2$ complications of the right.
127:424,05['  ]| Nevertheless, when, on$4$ bringing his call to$4$ a close,
127:424,06['  ]| he said 
127:424,06@d   | he too should be at Saint*Peter's and should
127:424,07@d   | look out for$4$ her and her friends, 
127:424,07['  ]| she was obliged to$9$
127:424,08['  ]| reply that$3$ 
127:424,08@a   | he must follow his convenience.
127:424,09['  ]| In$4$ the church, as she strolled over its tesselated
127:424,10['  ]| acres, he was the first person she encountered.  She
127:424,11['  ]| had not been one of the superior tourists who$6#1$ are
127:424,12['  ]| "disappointed" in$4$ Saint*Peter's and find it smaller
127:424,13['  ]| than its fame; the first time she passed beneath the 
127:424,14['  ]| huge leathern curtain that$6#1$ strains and bangs at the entrance,
127:424,15['  ]| the first time she found herself beneath the
127:424,16['  ]| far-arching dome and saw the light drizzle down
127:424,17['  ]| through the air thickened with incense and with the 
127:424,18['  ]| reflections of marble and gilt, of mosaic and bronze,
127:424,19['  ]| her conception of greatness rose and dizzily rose.
127:424,20['  ]| After this it never lacked space to$9$ soar.  She gazed
127:424,21['  ]| and wondered like$4$ a child or a peasant, she paid her 
127:424,22['  ]| silent tribute to$4$ the seated sublime.  Lord*Warburton
127:424,23['  ]| walked beside her and talked of Saint*Sophia of Constantinople;
127:424,24['  ]| she feared for$4$ instance that$3$ 
127:424,24@a   | he would
127:424,25@a   | end by$4$ calling attention to$4$ his exemplary conduct.
127:424,26['  ]| The service had not yet begun, but at Saint*Peter's
127:424,27['  ]| there is much to$9$ observe, and as there is something
127:424,28['  ]| almost profane in$4$ the vastness of the place, which$6#1$
127:424,29['  ]| seems meant as much for$4$ physical as for$4$ spiritual
127:424,30['  ]| exercise, the different figures and groups, the mingled 
127:424,31['  ]| worshippers and spectators, may follow their
127:424,32['  ]| various intentions without conflict or scandal.  In$4$ that$6#2$ 
127:425,01['  ]| splendid immensity individual indiscretion carries
127:425,02['  ]| but a short distance.  Isabel and her companions,
127:425,03['  ]| however, were guilty of none; for$3$ though Henrietta
127:425,04['  ]| was obliged in$4$ candour to$9$ declare that$3$ 
127:425,04@i   | Michael*Angelo's
127:425,05@i   | dome suffered by$4$ comparison with that$6#2$ of 
127:425,06@i   | the Capitol at Washington, 
127:425,06['  ]| she addressed her protest
127:425,07['  ]| chiefly to$4$ Mr%*Bantling's ear and reserved it in$4$ its
127:425,08['  ]| more accentuated form for$4$ the columns of the \Interviewer\.
127:425,09['  ]| Isabel made the circuit of the church with 
127:425,10['  ]| his lordship, and as they drew near the choir on$4$ the 
127:425,11['  ]| left of the entrance the voices of the Pope's singers
127:425,12['  ]| were borne to$4$ them over the heads of the large number
127:425,13['  ]| of persons clustered outside the doors.  They 
127:425,14['  ]| paused a while on$4$ the skirts of this crowd, composed
127:425,15['  ]| in$4$ equal measure of Roman cockneys and inquisitive
127:425,16['  ]| strangers, and while they stood there the sacred concert 
127:425,17['  ]| went forward.  Ralph, with Henrietta and Mr%*Bantling, 
127:425,18['  ]| was apparently within, where Isabel, looking
127:425,19['  ]| beyond the dense group in$4$ front of her, saw the 
127:425,20['  ]| afternoon light, silvered by$4$ clouds of incense that$6#1$ 
127:425,21['  ]| seemed to$9$ mingle with the splendid chant, slope
127:425,22['  ]| through the embossed recesses of high windows.
127:425,23['  ]| After a while the singing stopped and then Lord*Warburton
127:425,24['  ]| seemed disposed to$9$ move off with her.  Isabel
127:425,25['  ]| could only accompany him; whereupon she found 
127:425,26['  ]| herself confronted with Gilbert*Osmond, who$6#1$ appeared
127:425,27['  ]| to$9$ have been standing at a short distance behind 
127:425,28['  ]| her.  He now approached with all the forms ~~
127:425,29['  ]| he appeared to$9$ have multiplied them on$4$ this occasion
127:425,30['  ]| to$9$ suit the place.
127:425,31[A  ]| "So$3$ you decided to$9$ come?" 
127:425,31['  ]| she said as she put 
127:425,32['  ]| out her hand.
127:426,01[C  ]| "Yes, I came last night and called this afternoon
127:426,02[C  ]| at your hotel.  They told me you had come here, and 
127:426,03[C  ]| I looked about for$4$ you."
127:426,04[A  ]| "The others are inside," 
127:426,04['  ]| she decided to$9$ say.
127:426,05[C  ]| "I did not come for$4$ the others," 
127:426,05['  ]| he promptly returned.
127:426,06['  ]| 
127:426,07['  ]| She looked away; 
127:426,07@a   | Lord*Warburton was watching
127:426,08@a   | them; perhaps he had heard this.  
127:426,08['  ]| Suddenly she remembered
127:426,09['  ]| it to$9$ be 
127:426,09@a   | just what he had said to$4$ her the 
127:426,10@a   | morning he came to$4$ Gardencourt to$9$ ask her to$9$ marry 
127:426,11@a   | him.  
127:426,11['  ]| Mr%*Osmond's words had brought the colour
127:426,12['  ]| to$4$ her cheek, and this reminiscence had not the effect
127:426,13['  ]| of dispelling it.  She repaired any betrayal by$4$
127:426,14['  ]| mentioning to$4$ each companion the name of the other,
127:426,15['  ]| and fortunately at this moment Mr%*Bantling emerged
127:426,16['  ]| from the choir, cleaving the crowd with British valour
127:426,17['  ]| and followed by$4$ Miss*Stackpole and Ralph*Touchett.
127:426,18['  ]| I say fortunately, but this is perhaps a superficial
127:426,19['  ]| view of the matter; since on$4$ perceiving the gentleman
127:426,20['  ]| from Florence Ralph*Touchett appeared to$9$ take 
127:426,21['  ]| the case as not committing him to$4$ joy.  He did not
127:426,22['  ]| hang back, however, from civility, and presently
127:426,23['  ]| observed to$4$ Isabel, with due benevolence, that$3$ 
127:426,23@b   | she 
127:426,24@b   | would soon have all her friends about her.  
127:426,24['  ]| Miss*Stackpole
127:426,25['  ]| had met Mr%*Osmond in$4$ Florence, but 
127:426,26['  ]| she had already found occasion to$9$ say to$4$ Isabel that$3$
127:426,27@i   | she liked him no$2$ better than her other admirers ~~
127:426,28@i   | than Mr%*Touchett and Lord*Warburton, and even 
127:426,29@i   | than little Mr%*Rosier in$4$ Paris.  
127:426,29[I  ]| "I do not know
127:426,30[I  ]| what it is in$4$ you," 
127:426,30['  ]| she had been pleased to$9$ remark,
127:426,31[I  ]| "but for$4$ a nice girl you do attract the most unnatural 
127:426,32[I  ]| people.  Mr%*Goodwood is the only one I have
127:427,01[I  ]| any respect for$4$, and he is just the one you do not
127:427,02[I  ]| appreciate."
127:427,03[C  ]| "What is your opinion of Saint*Peter's?" 
127:427,03['  ]| Mr%*Osmond
127:427,04['  ]| was meanwhile enquiring of our young lady.
127:427,05[A  ]| "It is very large and very bright," 
127:427,05['  ]| she contented
127:427,06['  ]| herself with replying.
127:427,07[C  ]| "It is too large; it makes one feel like$4$ an atom."
127:427,08[A  ]| "Is not that$6#2$ the right way to$9$ feel in$4$ the greatest of 
127:427,09[A  ]| human temples?" 
127:427,09['  ]| she asked with rather a liking for$4$ 
127:427,10['  ]| her phrase.
127:427,11[C  ]| "I suppose it is the right way to$9$ feel everywhere,
127:427,12[C  ]| when one \is\ nobody.  But I like$1$ it in$4$ a church as little
127:427,13[C  ]| as anywhere else."
127:427,14[A  ]| "You ought indeed to$9$ be a Pope!"  
127:427,14['  ]| Isabel exclaimed,
127:427,15['  ]| remembering something he had referred to$4$ 
127:427,16['  ]| in$4$ Florence.
127:427,17[C  ]| "Ah, I should have enjoyed that$6#2$!" 
127:427,17['  ]| said Gilbert*Osmond.
127:427,18['  ]| 
127:427,19['  ]| Lord*Warburton meanwhile had joined Ralph*Touchett,
127:427,20['  ]| and the two strolled away together.  
127:427,20[D  ]| "Who$6#2$ is
127:427,21[D  ]| the fellow speaking to$4$ Miss*Archer?" 
127:427,21['  ]| his lordship
127:427,22['  ]| demanded.
127:427,23[B  ]| "His name is Gilbert*Osmond ~~ he lives in$4$ Florence,"
127:427,24['  ]| Ralph said.
127:427,25[D  ]| "What is he besides?"
127:427,26[B  ]| "Nothing at all.  Oh yes, he is an American; but 
127:427,27[B  ]| one forgets that$6#2$ ~~ he is so$5#1$ little of one."
127:427,28[D  ]| "Has he known Miss*Archer long?"
127:427,29[B  ]| "Three or four weeks."
127:427,30[D  ]| "Does she like$1$ him?"
127:427,31[B  ]| "She is trying to$9$ find out."
127:427,32[D  ]| "And will$1$ she?"
127:428,01[B  ]| "Find out ~~ ?" 
127:428,01['  ]| Ralph asked
127:428,02[D  ]| "Will$1$ she like$1$ him?"
127:428,03[B  ]| "Do you mean will$1$ she accept him?"
127:428,04[D  ]| "Yes," 
127:428,04['  ]| said Lord*Warburton after an instant;
127:428,05[D  ]| "I suppose that$6#2$ is what I horribly mean."
127:428,06[B  ]| "Perhaps not if one does nothing to$9$ prevent it,"
127:428,07['  ]| Ralph replied.
127:428,08['  ]| His lordship stared a moment, but apprehended.
127:428,09[D  ]| "Then we must be perfectly quiet?"
127:428,10[B  ]| "As quiet as the grave.  And only on$4$ the chance!"
127:428,11['  ]| Ralph added.
127:428,12[D  ]| "The chance she may?"
127:428,13[B  ]| "The chance she may not?"
127:428,14['  ]| Lord*Warburton took this at first in$4$ silence, but he
127:428,15['  ]| spoke again.  
127:428,15[D  ]| "Is he awfully clever?"
127:428,16[B  ]| "Awfully," 
127:428,16['  ]| said Ralph.
127:428,17['  ]| His companion thought.  
127:428,17[D  ]| "And what else?"
127:428,18[B  ]| "What more do you want?" 
127:428,18['  ]| Ralph groaned.
127:428,19[D  ]| "Do you mean what more does \she\?"
127:428,20['  ]| Ralph took him by$4$ the arm to$9$ turn him: they had
127:428,21['  ]| to$9$ rejoin the others.  
127:428,21[B  ]| "She wants nothing that$6#1$ \we\ can
127:428,22[B  ]| give her."
127:428,23[D  ]| "Ah well, if she will$1$ not have You ~~ !" 
127:428,23['  ]| said his
127:428,24['  ]| lordship handsomely as they went.