rdencourt with
the understanding that she should in any event see Mrs. Touchett there
again, or else in town, before quitting England. Her parting with Isabel
was even more like the beginning of a friendship than their meeting had
been. "I'm going to six places in succession, but I shall see no one I
like so well as you. They'll all be old friends, however; one doesn't
make new friends at my age. I've made a great exception for you. You
must remember that and must think as well of me as possible. You must
reward me by believing in me."

By way of answer Isabel kissed her, and, though some women kiss with
facility, there are kisses and kisses, and this embrace was satisfactory
to Madame Merle. Our young lady, after this, was much alone; she saw her
aunt and cousin only at meals, and discovered that of the hours during
which Mrs. Touchett was invisible only a minor portion was now devoted
to nursing her husband. She spent the rest in her own apartments, to
which access was not allowed even to her niece, apparently occupied
there with mysterious and inscrutable exercises. At table she was grave
and silent; but her solemnity was not an attitude--Isabel could see it
was a conviction. She wondered if her aunt repented of having taken her
own way so much; but there was no visible evidence of this--no tears, no
sighs, no exaggeration of a zeal always to its own sense adequate. Mrs.
Touchett seemed simply to feel the need of thinking things over and
summing them up; she had a little moral account-book--with columns
unerringly ruled and a sharp steel clasp--which she kept with exemplary
neatness. Uttered reflection had with her ever, at any rate, a practical
ring. "If I had foreseen this I'd not have proposed your coming abroad
now," she said to Isabel after Madame Merle had left the house. "I'd
have waited and sent for you next year."

"So that perhaps I should never have known my uncle? It's a great
happiness to me to have come now."

"That's very well. But it was not that you might know your uncle that
I brought you to Europe." A perfectly veracious speech; but, as Isabel
thought, not as perfectly timed. She had leisure to think of this and
other matters. She took a solitary walk every day and spent vague hours
in turning over books in the library. Among the subjects that engaged
her attention were the adventures of her friend Miss Stackpole, with
whom she was in regular correspondence. Isabel liked her friend's
private epi