"one has to accept one's
conditions. Our young man's people had seen her; one of his sisters, a
charming woman--we know all about them--had observed her somewhere with
me. She had spoken to her brother--turned him on; and we were again
observed, poor Jeanne and I, without our in the least knowing it. It
was at the beginning of the winter; it went on for some time; it
outlasted our absence; it began again on our return; and it luckily
seems all right. The young man had met Chad, and he got a friend to
approach him--as having a decent interest in us. Mr. Newsome looked
well before he leaped; he kept beautifully quiet and satisfied himself
fully; then only he spoke. It's what has for some time past occupied
us. It seems as if it were what would do; really, really all one could
wish. There are only two or three points to be settled--they depend on
her father. But this time I think we're safe."

Strether, consciously gaping a little, had fairly hung upon her lips.
"I hope so with all my heart." And then he permitted himself: "Does
nothing depend on HER?"

"Ah naturally; everything did. But she's pleased comme tout. She has
been perfectly free; and he--our young friend--is really a combination.
I quite adore him."

Strether just made sure. "You mean your future son-in-law?"

"Future if we all bring it off."

"Ah well," said Strether decorously, "I heartily hope you may." There
seemed little else for him to say, though her communication had the
oddest effect on him. Vaguely and confusedly he was troubled by it;
feeling as if he had even himself been concerned in something deep and
dim. He had allowed for depths, but these were greater: and it was as
if, oppressively--indeed absurdly--he was responsible for what they had
now thrown up to the surface. It was--through something ancient and
cold in it--what he would have called the real thing. In short his
hostess's news, though he couldn't have explained why, was a sensible
shock, and his oppression a weight he felt he must somehow or other
immediately get rid of. There were too many connexions missing to make
it tolerable he should do anything else. He was prepared to
suffer--before his own inner tribunal--for Chad; he was prepared to
suffer even for Madame de Vionnet. But he wasn't prepared to suffer
for the little girl So now having said the proper thing, he wanted to
get away. She held him an instant, however, with another appeal.

"Do I seem to y