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‘Ah, I should have enjoyed that!’ said Gilbert Osmond.
Lord Warburton meanwhile had joined Ralph Touchett,
and the two strolled away together. ‘Who’s the fellow speak-
ing to Miss Archer?’ his lordship demanded.
‘His name’s Gilbert Osmond—he lives in Florence,’
Ralph said.
‘What is he besides?’
‘Nothing at all. Oh yes, he’s an American; but one forgets
thathe’s so little of one.’
‘Has he known Miss Archer long?’
‘Three or four weeks.’
‘Does she like him?’
‘She’s trying to find out.’
‘And will she?’
‘Find out-?’ Ralph asked.
‘Will she like him?’
‘Do you mean will she accept him?’
‘Yes,’ said Lord Warburton after an instant; ‘I suppose
that’s what I horribly mean.’
‘Perhaps not if one does nothing to prevent it,’ Ralph re-
plied.
His lordship stared a moment, but apprehended. ‘Then
we must be perfectly quiet?’
‘As quiet as the grave. And only on the chance!’ Ralph
added.
‘The chance she may?’
‘The chance she may not?’
Lord Warburton took this at first in silence, but he spoke
again. ‘Is he awfully clever?’

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