Page 418 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

fortunately at this moment Mr. Bantling emerged from the
choir, cleaving the crowd with British valour and followed
by Miss Stackpole and Ralph Touchett. I say fortunately, be-
cause this is perhaps a superficial view of the matter; since
on perceiving the gentleman from Florence Ralph Touchett
appeared to take the case as not committing him to joy. He
didn’t hang back, however, from civility, and presently ob-
served to Isabel, with due benevolence, that she would soon
have all her friends about her. Miss Stackpole had met Mr.
Osmond in Florence, but she had already found occasion
to say to Isabel that she liked him no better than her oth-
er admirersthan Mr. Touchett and Lord Warburton, and
even than little Mr. Rosier in Paris. ‘I don’t know what it’s
in you,’ she had been pleased to remark, ‘but for a nice-girl
you do attract the most unnatural people. Mr. Goodwood’s
the only one I’ve any respect for, and he’s just the one you
don’t appreciate.’
‘What’s your opinion of Saint Peter’s?’ Mr. Osmond was
meanwhile enquiring of our young lady.
‘It’s very large and very bright,’ she contented herself
with replying.
‘It’s too large; it makes one feel like an atom.’
‘Isn’t that the right way to feel in the greatest of human
temples?’ she asked with rather a liking for her phrase.
‘I suppose it’s the right way to feel everywhere, when
one is nobody. But I like it in a church as little as anywhere
else.’
‘You ought indeed to be a Pope!’ Isabel exclaimed, re-
membering something he had referred to in Florence.

418 The Portrait of a Lady