ing to bed," said Isabel with persistent frivolity.

"Do you know where you're drifting?" Henrietta pursued, holding out her
bonnet delicately.

"No, I haven't the least idea, and I find it very pleasant not to know.
A swift carriage, of a dark night, rattling with four horses over roads
that one can't see--that's my idea of happiness."

"Mr. Goodwood certainly didn't teach you to say such things as
that--like the heroine of an immoral novel," said Miss Stackpole.
"You're drifting to some great mistake."

Isabel was irritated by her friend's interference, yet she still tried
to think what truth this declaration could represent. She could think
of nothing that diverted her from saying: "You must be very fond of me,
Henrietta, to be willing to be so aggressive."

"I love you intensely, Isabel," said Miss Stackpole with feeling.

"Well, if you love me intensely let me as intensely alone. I asked that
of Mr. Goodwood, and I must also ask it of you."

"Take care you're not let alone too much."

"That's what Mr. Goodwood said to me. I told him I must take the risks."

"You're a creature of risks--you make me shudder!" cried Henrietta.
"When does Mr. Goodwood return to America?"

"I don't know--he didn't tell me."

"Perhaps you didn't enquire," said Henrietta with the note of righteous
irony.

"I gave him too little satisfaction to have the right to ask questions
of him."

This assertion seemed to Miss Stackpole for a moment to bid defiance to
comment; but at last she exclaimed: "Well, Isabel, if I didn't know you
I might think you were heartless!"

"Take care," said Isabel; "you're spoiling me."

"I'm afraid I've done that already. I hope, at least," Miss Stackpole
added, "that he may cross with Annie Climber!"

Isabel learned from her the next morning that she had determined not to
return to Gardencourt (where old Mr. Touchett had promised her a renewed
welcome), but to await in London the arrival of the invitation that Mr.
Bantling had promised her from his sister Lady Pensil. Miss Stackpole
related very freely her conversation with Ralph Touchett's sociable
friend and declared to Isabel that she really believed she had now got
hold of something that would lead to something. On the receipt of Lady
Pensil's letter--Mr. Bantling had virtually guaranteed the arrival of
this document--she would immediately depart for Bedfordshire, and if
Isabel cared to look out for her impressions in the Interviewer
she wou