Page 198 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

‘Oh, I see; I dare say you found it very quiet at Garden-
court. Naturally there’s not much going on there when
there’s such a lot of illness about. Touchett’s very bad, you
know; the doctors have forbidden his being in England at
all, and he has only come back to take care of his father. The
old man, I believe, has half a dozen things the matter with
him. They call it gout, but to my certain knowledge he has
organic disease so developed that you may depend upon it
he’ll go, some day soon, quite quickly. Of course that sort
of thing makes a dreadfully dull house; I wonder they have
people when they can do so little for them. Then I believe
Mr. Touchett’s always squabbling with his wife; she lives
away from her husband, you know, in that extraordinary
American way of yours. If you want a house where there’s
always something going on, I recommend you to go down
and stay with my sister, Lady Pensil, in Bedfordshire. I’ll
write to her tomorrow and I’m sure she’ll be delighted to ask
you. I know just what you want—you want a house where
they go in for theatricals and picnics and that sort of thing.
My sister’s just that sort of woman; she’s always getting up
something or other and she’s always glad to have the sort of
people who help her. I’m sure she’ll ask you down by return
of post: she’s tremendously fond of distinguished people and
writers. She writes herself, you know; but I haven’t read ev-
erything she has written. It’s usually poetry, and I don’t go
in much for poetry—unless it’s Byron. I suppose you think a
great deal of Byron in America,’ Mr. Bantling continued, ex-
panding in the stimulating air of Miss Stackpole’s attention,
bringing up his sequences promptly and changing his topic

198 The Portrait of a Lady