Miss Stackpole showed every disposition to wait, and evidently was prepared to make a considerable stay at Gardencourt. She occupied herself in the mornings with literary labour; but in spite of this Isabel spent many hours with her friend, who, once her daily task performed, was of an eminently social tendency. Isabel speedily found occasion to request her to desist from celebrating the charms of their common sojourn in print, having discovered, on the second morning of Miss Stackpole's visit, that she was engaged upon a letter to the Interviewer, of which the title, in her exquisitely neat and legible hand (exactly that of the copy-books which our heroine remembered at school), was "Americans and Tudors—Glimpses of Gardencourt." Miss Stackpole, with the best conscience in the world, offered to read her letter to Isabel, who immediately put in her protest.
"I don't think you ought to do that. I don't think you ought to describe the place."
Henrietta gazed at her, as usual. "Why, it's just what the people want, and it's a lovely place."
"It's too lovely to be put in the newspapers, and it's not what my uncle wants."
"Don't you believe that!" cried Henrietta. "They are always delighted, afterwards."
"My uncle won't be delighted—nor my cousin, either. They will consider it a breach of hospitality."
Miss Stackpole showed no sense of confusion; she simply wiped her pen, very neatly, upon an elegant little implement which she kept for the purpose, and put away her manuscript. "Of course if you don't approve, I won't do it; but I sacrifice a beautiful subject."
"There are plenty of other subjects, there are subjects all
