Page 808 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

something of that sort.’
‘I’m very glad,’ Isabel said. ‘It must be a sudden deci-
sion.’
‘Sudden enough, I believe; a courtship of three weeks. It
has only just been made public.’
‘I’m very glad,’ Isabel repeated with a larger emphasis.
She knew her aunt was watching her-looking for the signs
of some imputed soreness, and the desire to prevent her
companion from seeing anything of this kind enabled her
to speak in the tone of quick satisfaction, the tone almost of
relief. Mrs. Touchett of course followed the tradition that
ladies, even married ones, regard the marriage of their old
lovers as an offence to themselves. Isabel’s first care there-
fore was to show that however that might be in general she
was not offended now. But meanwhile, as I say, her heart
beat faster; and if she sat for some moments thoughtful-
she presently forgot Mrs. Touchett’s observation-it was not
because she had lost an admirer. Her imagination had tra-
versed half Europe; it halted, panting, and even trembling a
little, in the city of Rome. She figured herself announcing to
her husband that Lord Warburton was to lead a bride to the
altar, and she was of course not aware how extremely wan
she must have looked while she made this intellectual effort.
But at last she collected herself and said to her aunt: ‘He was
sure to do it some time or other.’
Mrs. Touchett was silent; then she gave a sharp little
shake of the head.
‘Ah, my dear, you’re beyond me!’ she cried suddenly.
They went on with their luncheon in silence; Isabel felt as if

808 The Portrait of a Lady