Page 34 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

She directed their course back to the library while the
visitor continued to look about her. ‘You seem to have plen-
ty of other rooms; they’re in rather better condition. But
everything’s immensely worn.’
‘Have you come to look at the house?’ Isabel asked. ‘The
servant will show it to you.’
‘Send her away; I don’t want to buy it. She has probably
gone to look for you and is wandering about upstairs; she
didn’t seem at all intelligent. You had better tell her it’s no
matter.’ And then, since the girl stood there hesitating and
wondering, this unexpected critic said to her abruptly: ‘I
suppose you’re one of the daughters?’
Isabel thought she had very strange manners. ‘It depends
upon whose daughters you mean.’
‘The late Mr. Archer’s—and my poor sister’s.’
‘Ah,’ said Isabel slowly, ‘you must be our crazy Aunt Lyd-
ia!’
‘Is that what your father told you to call me? I’m your
Aunt Lydia, but I’m not at all crazy: I haven’t a delusion!
And which of the daughters are you?’
‘I’m the youngest of the three, and my name’s Isabel.’
‘Yes; the others are Lilian and Edith. And are you the
prettiest?’
‘I haven’t the least idea,’ said the girl.
‘I think you must be.’ And in this way the aunt and the
niece made friends. The aunt had quarrelled years before
with her brother-in-law, after the death of her sister, taking
him to task for the manner in which he brought up his three
girls. Being a high-tempered man he had requested her to

34 The Portrait of a Lady