It was seeing round several corners; but that was
what New England heroines did, and it was moreover interesting for the
moment to make out how many really her young friend had undertaken to
see round. Finally, too, weren't they braving the deeps? They got their
amusement where they could. "Isn't it only," she asked, "rather
probable she'd see that Kate's knowing him as (what's the pretty old
word?) _volage_----?"

"Well?" She hadn't filled out her idea, but neither, it seemed, could
Milly.

"Well, might but do what that often does--by all _our_ blessed little
laws and arrangements at least; excite Kate's own sentiment instead of
depressing it."

The idea was bright, yet the girl but beautifully stared. "Kate's own
sentiment? Oh, she didn't speak of that. I don't think," she added as
if she had been unconsciously giving a wrong impression, "I don't think
Mrs. Condrip imagines _she's_ in love."

It made Mrs. Stringham stare in turn. "Then what's her fear?"

"Well, only the fact of Mr. Densher's possibly himself keeping it
up--the fear of some final result from _that._

"Oh," said Susie, intellectually a little disconcerted--"she looks far
ahead!"

At this, however, Milly threw off another of her sudden vague "sports."
"No--it's only we who do."

"Well, don't let us be more interested for them than they are for
themselves!"

"Certainly not"--the girl promptly assented. A certain interest
nevertheless remained; she appeared to wish to be clear. "It wasn't of
anything on Kate's own part she spoke."

"You mean she thinks her sister does _not_ care for him?"

It was still as if, for an instant, Milly had to be sure of what she
meant; but there it presently was. "If she did care Mrs. Condrip would
have told me."

What Susan Shepherd seemed hereupon for a little to wonder was why then
they had been talking so. "But did you ask her?"

"Ah, no!"

"Oh!" said Susan Shepherd.

Milly, however, easily explained that she wouldn't have asked her for
the world.

BOOK FIFTH

X

Lord Mark looked at her to-day in particular as if to wring from her a
confession that she had originally done him injustice; and he was
entitled to whatever there might be in it of advantage or merit that
his intention really in a manner took effect: he cared about something,
that is, after all, sufficiently to make her feel absurdly as if she
_were_ confessing--all the while it was quite the case that neither
justice nor injustic