ch a time of day at the door of a house in which she was esteemed so
little as she must long have known herself to be at Palazzo Crescentini.
Isabel had been made acquainted with the estimate prevailing under that
roof: it represented Mr. Osmond's sister as a lady who had so mismanaged
her improprieties that they had ceased to hang together at all--which
was at the least what one asked of such matters--and had become the mere
floating fragments of a wrecked renown, incommoding social circulation.
She had been married by her mother--a more administrative person, with
an appreciation of foreign titles which the daughter, to do her justice,
had probably by this time thrown off--to an Italian nobleman who had
perhaps given her some excuse for attempting to quench the consciousness
of outrage. The Countess, however, had consoled herself outrageously,
and the list of her excuses had now lost itself in the labyrinth of her
adventures. Mrs. Touchett had never consented to receive her, though the
Countess had made overtures of old. Florence was not an austere city;
but, as Mrs. Touchett said, she had to draw the line somewhere.

Madame Merle defended the luckless lady with a great deal of zeal and
wit. She couldn't see why Mrs. Touchett should make a scapegoat of a
woman who had really done no harm, who had only done good in the wrong
way. One must certainly draw the line, but while one was about it one
should draw it straight: it was a very crooked chalk-mark that would
exclude the Countess Gemini. In that case Mrs. Touchett had better
shut up her house; this perhaps would be the best course so long as
she remained in Florence. One must be fair and not make arbitrary
differences: the Countess had doubtless been imprudent, she had not been
so clever as other women. She was a good creature, not clever at
all; but since when had that been a ground of exclusion from the best
society? For ever so long now one had heard nothing about her, and there
could be no better proof of her having renounced the error of her ways
than her desire to become a member of Mrs. Touchett's circle. Isabel
could contribute nothing to this interesting dispute, not even a patient
attention; she contented herself with having given a friendly welcome to
the unfortunate lady, who, whatever her defects, had at least the merit
of being Mr. Osmond's sister. As she liked the brother Isabel thought it
proper to try and like the sister: in spite of the growing comple