240 THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. and open a parley ; she would certainly not allow number threfe to come in. He expressed this view, somewhat after this fashion, to his mother, who looked at him as if he had been dancing a jig. He had such a fanciful, pictorial way of saying things that he might as well address her in the deaf-mute's alphabet. " I don't think I know what you mean," she said ; " you use too many metaphors ; I could never understand allegories. The two words in the language I most respect are Yes and No. If Isabel wants to marry Mr. Osmond, she will do so in spite of all your similes. Let her alone to find a favourable comparison for anything she undertakes. I know very little about the young man in America ; I don't think she spends much of her time in thinking of him, and I suspect he has got tired of waiting for her. There is nothing in life to prevent her marrying Mr. Osmond, if she only looks at him in a certain way. That is all very well; no one approves more than I of one's pleasing one's self. But she takes her pleasure in such odd things ; she is capable of marrying Mr. Osmond for his opinions. She wants to be disinterested : as if she were the only person who is in danger of not being so ! Will he be so disinterested when he has the spending of her money ] That was her idea before your father's death, and it has acquired new charms for her since. She ought to marry some one of whose disinterestedness she should be sure, herself; and there would be no such proof of that as his having a fortune of his own." " My dear mother, I am not afraid," Ralph answered. " She is making fools of us all. She will please herself, of course ; but she will do so by studying human nature and retaining her liberty. She has started on an exploring expedition, and I don't -think she will change her course, at the outset, at a signal from Gilbert Osmond. She may have slackened speed for an hour, but before we know it she will be steaming away again. Excuse another metaphor." Mrs. Touchett excused it perhaps, but she was not so much reassured as to withhold from Madame Merle the expression of her fears. "You who know everything," she said, "you must know this : whether that man is making love to my niece." Madame Merle opened her expressive eyes, and with a bril- liant smile " Heaven help us," she exclaimed, " that's an idea ! " " Has it never occurred to you 1 " "You make me feel like a fool but I confess it hasn't. I
