THE GOLDEN BOWL
derings and musings. She had groped through their talk for the thread and now had got it. "She wants to be magnificent."
"She is," said the Colonel almost cynically.
"She wants"—his wife now had it fast—"to be thoroughly superior, and she 's capable of that."
"Of wanting to?"
"Of carrying out her idea."
"And what is her idea?"
"To see Maggie through."
Bob Assingham wondered. "Through what?"
"Through everything. She knows the Prince. And Maggie doesn't. No, dear thing"—Mrs. Assingham had to recognise it—"she doesn't."
"So that Charlotte has come out to give her lessons?"
She continued, Fanny Assingham, to work out her thought. "She has done this great thing for him. That is a year ago she practically did it. She practically, at any rate, helped him to do it himself—and helped me to help him. She kept off, she stayed away, she left him free; and what, moreover, were her silences to Maggie but a direct aid to him? If she had spoken in Florence; if she had told her own poor story; if she had come back at any time—till within a few weeks ago; if she hadn't gone to New York and hadn't held out there: if she hadn't done these things all that has happened since would certainly have been different. Therefore she's in a position to be consistent now. She knows the Prince," Mrs. Assingham repeated. It involved even again her former recognition. "And Maggie, dear thing, doesn't."
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