Page 716 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

proof than the deep, dumb irritation that reigned in his soul
when he heard Osmond speak of his wife’s feelings as if he
were commissioned to answer for them.
That was all he had had an ear for in what his host said
to him this evening; he had been conscious that Osmond
made more of a point even than usual of referring to the
conjugal harmony prevailing at Palazzo Roccanera. He had
been more careful than ever to speak as if he and his wife
had all things in sweet community and it were as natu-
ral to each of them to say ‘we’ as to say ‘I.’ In all this there
was an air of intention that had puzzled and angered our
poor Bostonian, who could only reflect for his comfort that
Mrs. Osmond’s relations with her husband were none of his
business. He had no proof whatever that her husband mis-
represented her, and if he judged her by the surface of things
was bound to believe that she liked her life. She had never
given him the faintest sign of discontent. Miss Stackpole
had told him that she had lost her illusions, but writing for
the papers had made Miss Stackpole sensational. She was
too fond of early news. Moreover, since her arrival in Rome
she had been much on her guard; she had pretty well ceased
to flash her lantern at him. This indeed, it may be said for
her, would have been quite against her conscience. She had
now seen the reality of Isabel’s situation, and it had inspired
her with a just reserve. Whatever could be done to improve
it the most useful form of assistance would not be to inflame
her former lovers with a sense of her wrongs. Miss Stack-
pole continued to take a deep interest in the state of Mr.
Goodwood’s feelings, but she showed it at present only by

716 The Portrait of a Lady