it that when it's all on his side. I've nothing whatever
against him and don't bear him the least little grudge for not doing me
justice. Justice is all I want. However, one feels that he's a gentleman
and would never say anything underhand about one. Cartes sur table,"
Madame Merle subjoined in a moment, "I'm not afraid of him."

"I hope not indeed," said Isabel, who added something about his being
the kindest creature living. She remembered, however, that on her first
asking him about Madame Merle he had answered her in a manner which
this lady might have thought injurious without being explicit. There
was something between them, Isabel said to herself, but she said nothing
more than this. If it were something of importance it should inspire
respect; if it were not it was not worth her curiosity. With all her
love of knowledge she had a natural shrinking from raising curtains and
looking into unlighted corners. The love of knowledge coexisted in her
mind with the finest capacity for ignorance.

But Madame Merle sometimes said things that startled her, made her raise
her clear eyebrows at the time and think of the words afterwards. "I'd
give a great deal to be your age again," she broke out once with a
bitterness which, though diluted in her customary amplitude of ease, was
imperfectly disguised by it. "If I could only begin again--if I could
have my life before me!"

"Your life's before you yet," Isabel answered gently, for she was
vaguely awe-struck.

"No; the best part's gone, and gone for nothing."

"Surely not for nothing," said Isabel.

"Why not--what have I got? Neither husband, nor child, nor fortune, nor
position, nor the traces of a beauty that I never had."

"You have many friends, dear lady."

"I'm not so sure!" cried Madame Merle.

"Ah, you're wrong. You have memories, graces, talents--"

But Madame Merle interrupted her. "What have my talents brought me?
Nothing but the need of using them still, to get through the hours,
the years, to cheat myself with some pretence of movement, of
unconsciousness. As for my graces and memories the less said about them
the better. You'll be my friend till you find a better use for your
friendship."

"It will be for you to see that I don't then," said Isabel.

"Yes; I would make an effort to keep you." And her companion looked at
her gravely. "When I say I should like to be your age I mean with your
qualities--frank, generous, sincere like you. In that case I