THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. 171 it may be you have your natural place there. If we are not good Americans we are certainly poor Europeans we have no natural place here. "We are mere parasites, crawling over the surface we haven't our feet in the soil. At least one can know it, and not have illusions. A woman, perhaps, can get on ; a woman, it seems to me, has no natural place anywhere ; where- ever she finds herself she has to remain on the surface and, more or less, to crawl. You protest, my dear 1 ? you are horrified 1 ? you declare you will never crawl ( It is very true that I don't see you crawling ; you stand more upright than a good many poor creatures. Very good; on the whole, I don't think you will crawl. But the men, the Americans ; je vous demande un peu, what do they make of it over here ? I don't envy them, trying to arrange themselves. Look at poor Ralph Touchett; what sort of a figure do you call that? Fortunately he has got a consumption ; I say fortunately, because it gives him something to do. His consumption is his career ; it's a kind of position. You can say, ' Oh, Mr. Touchett, he takes care of his lungs, he knows a great deal about climates.' But without that, who would he be, what would he represent ? ' Mr. Ealph Touchett, an American who lives in Europe.' That signifies absolutely nothing it's impossible that anything should signify less. * He is very cultivated,' they say ; ' he has got a very pretty collection of old snuff-boxes.' The collection is all that is wanted to make it pitiful. I am tired of the sound of the word ; I think it's grotesque. With the poor old father it's different ; he has his identity, and it is rather a massive one. He represents a great financial house, and that, in our day, is as good as anything else. For an American, at any rate, that will do very well. But I persist in thinking your cousin is very lucky to have a chronic malady ; so long as he doesn't die of it. It's much better than the snuff-boxes. If he were not ill, you say, he would do some- thing 1 he would take his father's place in the house. My poor child, I doubt it ; I don't think he is at all fond of the house. However, you know him better than I, though I used to know him rather well, and he may have the benefit of the doubt. The worst case, I think, is a friend of mine, a countryman of ours, who lives in Italy (where he also was brought before he knew better), and who is one of the most delightful men I know. Some day you must know him. I will bring you together, and then you will see what I mean. He is Gilbert Osmond he lives in Italy ; that is all one can say about him. He is exceed- ingly clever, a man made to be distinguished ; but, as I say, you exhaust the description when you say that he is Mr. Osmond,
