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‘I’ll write to them to send you the paper if you like,’ Hen-
rietta said. ‘I didn’t mention your name; I only said a lady of
high rank. And then I quoted your views.’
The Countess threw herself hastily backward, tossing
up her clasped hands. ‘Do you know I’m rather sorry you
didn’t mention my name? I should have rather liked to see
my name in the papers. I forget what my views were; I have
so many! But I’m not ashamed of them. I’m not at all like my
brother-I suppose you know my brother? He thinks it a kind
of scandal to be put in the papers; if you were to quote him
he’d never forgive you.
‘He needn’t be afraid; I shall never refer to him,’ said
Miss Stackpole with bland dryness. ‘That’s another reason,’
she added, ‘why I wanted to come to see you. You know Mr.
Osmond married my dearest friend.’
‘Ah, yes; you were a friend of Isabel’s. I was trying to
think what I knew about you.’
quite willing to be known by that,’ Henrietta declared.
‘But that isn’t what your brother likes to know me by. He has
tried to break up my relations with Isabel.’
‘Don’t permit it,’ said the Countess.
‘That’s what I want to talk about. I’m going to Rome.’
‘So am I!’ the Countess cried. ‘We’ll go together.’
‘With great pleasure. And when I write about my journey
I’ll mention you by name as my companion.’
The Countess sprang from her chair and came and sat on
the sofa beside her visitor. ‘Ah, you must send me the paper!
My husband won’t like it, but he need never see it. Besides,
he doesn’t know how to read.’

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