"Well, I like you better than I do her," said Miss Stackpole. "I seem to
remember that when I saw you before you were very interesting. I don't
know whether it was an accident or whether it's your usual style. At
any rate I was a good deal struck with what you said. I made use of it
afterwards in print."

"Dear me!" cried the Countess, staring and half-alarmed; "I had no idea
I ever said anything remarkable! I wish I had known it at the time."

"It was about the position of woman in this city," Miss Stackpole
remarked. "You threw a good deal of light upon it."

"The position of woman's very uncomfortable. Is that what you mean? And
you wrote it down and published it?" the Countess went on. "Ah, do let
me see it!"

"I'll write to them to send you the paper if you like," Henrietta said.
"I didn't mention your name; I only said a lady of high rank. And then I
quoted your views."

The Countess threw herself hastily backward, tossing up her clasped
hands. "Do you know I'm rather sorry you didn't mention my name? I
should have rather liked to see my name in the papers. I forget what my
views were; I have so many! But I'm not ashamed of them. I'm not at all
like my brother--I suppose you know my brother? He thinks it a kind of
scandal to be put in the papers; if you were to quote him he'd never
forgive you."

"He needn't be afraid; I shall never refer to him," said Miss Stackpole
with bland dryness. "That's another reason," she added, "why I wanted to
come to see you. You know Mr. Osmond married my dearest friend."

"Ah, yes; you were a friend of Isabel's. I was trying to think what I
knew about you."

"I'm quite willing to be known by that," Henrietta declared. "But that
isn't what your brother likes to know me by. He has tried to break up my
relations with Isabel."

"Don't permit it," said the Countess.

"That's what I want to talk about. I'm going to Rome."

"So am I!" the Countess cried. "We'll go together."

"With great pleasure. And when I write about my journey I'll mention you
by name as my companion."

The Countess sprang from her chair and came and sat on the sofa beside
her visitor. "Ah, you must send me the paper! My husband won't like it,
but he need never see it. Besides, he doesn't know how to read."

Henrietta's large eyes became immense. "Doesn't know how to read? May I
put that into my letter?"

"Into your letter?"

"In the Interviewer. That's my paper."

"Oh yes, if you like; with his