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upon people was often different from what she supposed—
and he frequently gave himself the pleasure of making her
chatter. It was by this term that he qualified her conversa-
tion, which had much of the ‘point’ observable in that of the
young ladies of her country, to whom the ear of the world is
more directly presented than to their sisters in other lands.
Like the mass of American girls Isabel had been encouraged
to express herself; her remarks had been attended to; she
had been expected to have emotions and opinions. Many of
her opinions had doubtless but a slender value, many of her
emotions passed away in the utterance; but they had left a
trace in giving her the habit of seeming at least to feel and
think, and in imparting moreover to her words when she
was really moved that prompt vividness which so many peo-
ple had regarded as a sign of superiority. Mr. Touchett used
to think that she reminded him of his wife when his wife
was in her teens. It was because she was fresh and natural
and quick to understand, to speak—so many characteristics
of her niece—that he had fallen in love with Mrs. Touchett.
He never expressed this analogy to the girl herself, however;
for if Mrs. Touchett had once been like Isabel, Isabel was not
at all like Mrs. Touchett. The old man was full of kindness
for her; it was a long time, as he said, since they had had
any young life in the house; and our rustling, quickly-mov-
ing, clear-voiced heroine was as agreeable to his sense as the
sound of flowing water. He wanted to do something for her
and wished she would ask it of him. She would ask nothing
but questions; it is true that of these she asked a quantity.
Her uncle had a great fund of answers, though her pressure

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