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he cared or was interested or rightly challenged—just exact-
ly rightly it had to be—then one felt his cleverness and his
distinction. Those qualities didn’t depend, in him, as in so
many people, on his not committing or exposing himself.
He had his perversities—which indeed Isabel would find
to be the case with all the men really worth knowing—and
didn’t cause his light to shine equally for all persons. Ma-
dame Merle, however, thought she could undertake that for
Isabel he would be brilliant. He was easily bored, too easily,
and dull people always put him out; but a quick and culti-
vated girl like Isabel would give him a stimulus which was
too absent from his life. At any rate he was a person not to
miss. One shouldn’t attempt to live in Italy without mak-
ing a friend of Gilbert Osmond, who knew more about the
country than any one except two or three German profes-
sors. And if they had more knowledge than he it was he who
had most perception and taste—being artistic through and
through. Isabel remembered that her friend had spoken of
him during their plunge, at Gardencourt, into the deeps of
talk, and wondered a little what was the nature of the tie
binding these superior spirits. She felt that Madame Merle’s
ties always somehow had histories, and such an impression
was part of the interest created by this inordinate woman.
As regards her relations with Mr. Osmond, however, she
hinted at nothing but a long-established calm friendship.
Isabel said she should be happy to know a person who had
enjoyed so high a confidence for so many years. ‘You ought
to see a great many men,’ Madame Merle remarked; ‘you
ought to see as many as possible, so as to get used to them.’

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