Page 470 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

Chapter 33

Her fit of weeping, however, was soon smothered, and the
signs of it had vanished when, an hour later, she broke the
news to her aunt. I use this expression because she had been
sure Mrs. Touchett would not be pleased; Isabel had only
waited to tell her till she had seen Mr.
Goodwood. She had an odd impression that it would not
be honourable to make the fact public before she should
have heard what Mr. Goodwood would say about it. He had
said rather less than she expected, and she now had a some-
what angry sense of having lost time. But she would lose
no more; she waited till Mrs. Touchett came into the draw-
ing-room before the mid-day breakfast, and then she began.
‘Aunt Lydia, I’ve something to tell you.’
Mrs. Touchett gave a little jump and looked at her almost
fiercely: ‘You needn’t tell me; I know what it is.’
‘I don’t know how you know.’
‘The same way that I know when the window’s open-by
feeling a draught. You’re going to marry that man.’
‘What man do you mean?’ Isabel enquired with great
dignity.
‘Madame Merle’s friend-Mr. Osmond.’
‘I don’t know why you call him Madame Merle’s friend.
Is that the principal thing he’s known by?’
‘If he’s not her friend he ought to after what she has done

470 The Portrait of a Lady