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was not a thing to be despised. Isabel in truth needed no
urging, and the party of four arranged its little journey.
Mrs. Touchett, on this occasion, had resigned herself to the
absence of a duenna; we have seen that she now inclined to
the belief that her niece should stand alone. One of Isabel’s
preparations consisted of her seeing Gilbert Osmond before
she started and mentioning her intention to him.
‘I should like to be in Rome with you,’ he commented. ‘I
should like to see you on that wonderful ground.’
She scarcely faltered. ‘You might come then.’
‘But you’ll have a lot of people with you.’
‘Ah,’ Isabel admitted, ‘of course I shall not be alone.’
For a moment he said nothing more. ‘You’ll like it,’ he
went on at last. They’ve spoiled it, but you’ll rave about it.’
‘Ought I to dislike it because, poor old dear—the Niobe
of Nations, you know—it has been spoiled?’ she asked.
‘No, I think not. It has been spoiled so often,’ he smiled:
‘If I were to go, what should I do with my little girl?’
‘Can’t you leave her at the villa?’
‘I don’t know that I like that—though there’s a very good
old woman who looks after her. I can’t afford a governess.’
‘Bring her with you then,’ said Isabel promptly.
Mr. Osmond looked grave. ‘She has been in Rome all
winter, at her convent; and she’s too young to make jour-
neys of pleasure.’
‘You don’t like bringing her forward?’ Isabel enquired.
‘No, I think young girls should be kept out of the world.’
‘I was brought up on a different system.’
‘You? Oh, with you it succeeded, because you—you were

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