Page 200 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

you call the place she lives in—Bedfordshire?’
‘She lives away in the northern corner of it. It’s a tiresome
country, but I dare say you won’t mind it. I’ll try and run
down while you’re there.’
All this was very pleasant to Miss Stackpole, and she was
sorry to be obliged to separate from Lady Pensil’s obliging
brother. But it happened that she had met the day before, in
Piccadilly, some friends whom she had not seen for a year:
the Miss Climbers, two ladies from Wilmington, Delaware,
who had been travelling on the Continent and were now
preparing to re-embark. Henrietta had had a long inter-
view with them on the Piccadilly pavement, and though the
three ladies all talked at once they had not exhausted their
store. It had been agreed therefore that Henrietta should
come and dine with them in their lodgings in Jermyn Street
at six o’clock on the morrow, and she now bethought herself
of this engagement. She prepared to start for Jermyn Street,
taking leave first of Ralph Touchett and Isabel, who, seat-
ed on garden chairs in another part of the enclosure, were
occupied—if the term may be used—with an exchange of
amenities less pointed than the practical colloquy of Miss
Stackpole and Mr. Bantling. When it had been settled be-
tween Isabel and her friend that they should be reunited at
some reputable hour at Pratt’s Hotel, Ralph remarked that
the latter must have a cab. She couldn’t walk all the way to
Jermyn Street.
‘I suppose you mean it’s improper for me to walk alone!’
Henrietta exclaimed. ‘Merciful powers, have I come to
this?’

200 The Portrait of a Lady