Page 342 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

‘I don’t object to showing my things—when people are
not idiots.’
‘You do it delightfully. As cicerone of your museum you
appear to particular advantage.’
Mr. Osmond, in return for this compliment, simply
looked at once colder and more attentive. ‘Did you say she
was rich?’
‘She has seventy thousand pounds.’
‘En ecus bien comptes?’
‘There’s no doubt whatever about her fortune. I’ve seen
it, as I may say.’
‘Satisfactory woman!—I mean you. And if I go to see her
shall I see the mother?’
‘The mother? She has none—nor father either.’
‘The aunt then—whom did you say?—Mrs. Touchett.’
‘I can easily keep her out of the way.’
‘I don’t object to her,’ said Osmond; ‘I rather like Mrs.
Touchett. She has a sort of old-fashioned character that’s
passing away—a vivid identity. But that long jackanapes the
son—is he about the place?’
‘He’s there, but he won’t trouble you.’
‘He’s a good deal of a donkey.’
‘I think you’re mistaken. He’s a very clever man. But he’s
not fond of being about when I’m there, because he doesn’t
like me.’
‘What could be more asinine than that? Did you say she
has looks?’ Osmond went on.
‘Yes; but I won’t say it again, lest you should be disap-
pointed in them. Come and make a beginning; that’s all I

342 The Portrait of a Lady