rom the large ante-chamber which was
entered from the staircase and in which even Gilbert Osmond's rich
devices had not been able to correct a look of rather grand nudity. Just
beyond the threshold of the drawing-room she stopped short, the
reason for her doing so being that she had received an impression. The
impression had, in strictness, nothing unprecedented; but she felt it as
something new, and the soundlessness of her step gave her time to take
in the scene before she interrupted it. Madame Merle was there in her
bonnet, and Gilbert Osmond was talking to her; for a minute they were
unaware she had come in. Isabel had often seen that before, certainly;
but what she had not seen, or at least had not noticed, was that their
colloquy had for the moment converted itself into a sort of familiar
silence, from which she instantly perceived that her entrance would
startle them. Madame Merle was standing on the rug, a little way from
the fire; Osmond was in a deep chair, leaning back and looking at her.
Her head was erect, as usual, but her eyes were bent on his. What struck
Isabel first was that he was sitting while Madame Merle stood; there was
an anomaly in this that arrested her. Then she perceived that they had
arrived at a desultory pause in their exchange of ideas and were musing,
face to face, with the freedom of old friends who sometimes exchange
ideas without uttering them. There was nothing to shock in this; they
were old friends in fact. But the thing made an image, lasting only a
moment, like a sudden flicker of light. Their relative positions, their
absorbed mutual gaze, struck her as something detected. But it was all
over by the time she had fairly seen it. Madame Merle had seen her and
had welcomed her without moving; her husband, on the other hand, had
instantly jumped up. He presently murmured something about wanting a
walk and, after having asked their visitor to excuse him, left the room.

"I came to see you, thinking you would have come in; and as you hadn't I
waited for you," Madame Merle said.

"Didn't he ask you to sit down?" Isabel asked with a smile.

Madame Merle looked about her. "Ah, it's very true; I was going away."

"You must stay now."

"Certainly. I came for a reason; I've something on my mind."

"I've told you that before," Isabel said--"that it takes something
extraordinary to bring you to this house."

"And you know what I've told YOU; that whether I come or whether I stay
away,