Page 166 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

ken to in America as you have spoken to me. If a gentleman
conversing with me over there were to speak to me like that
I shouldn’t know what to make of it. We take everything
more naturally over there, and, after all, we’re a great deal
more simple. I admit that; I’m very simple myself. Of course
if you choose to laugh at me for it you’re very welcome; but
I think on the whole I would rather be myself than you. I’m
quite content to be myself; I don’t want to change. There
are plenty of people that appreciate me just as I am. It’s
true they’re nice fresh free-born Americans!’ Henrietta
had lately taken up the tone of helpless innocence and large
concession. ‘I want you to assist me a little,’ she went on. ‘I
don’t care in the least whether I amuse you while you do so;
or, rather, I’m perfectly willing your amusement should be
your reward. I want you to help me about Isabel.’
‘Has she injured you?’ Ralph asked.
‘If she had I shouldn’t mind, and I should never tell you.
What I’m afraid of is that she’ll injure herself.’
‘I think that’s very possible,’ said Ralph.
His companion stopped in the garden-walk, fixing on
him perhaps the very gaze that unnerved him. ‘That too
would amuse you, I suppose. The way you do things! I never
heard any one so indifferent.’
‘To Isabel? Ah, not that!’
‘Well, you’re not in love with her, I hope.’
‘How can that be, when I’m in love with Another?’
‘You’re in love with yourself, that’s the Other!’ Miss Stack-
pole declared. ‘Much good may it do you! But if you wish to
be serious once in your life here’s a chance; and if you re-

166 The Portrait of a Lady