give up her country.
She herself had relaxed her hold of it, but it had never been her
country as it had been Henrietta's. She presently asked her if she had
enjoyed her visit to Lady Pensil.

"Oh yes," said Henrietta, "she didn't know what to make of me."

"And was that very enjoyable?"

"Very much so, because she's supposed to be a master mind. She thinks
she knows everything; but she doesn't understand a woman of my modern
type. It would be so much easier for her if I were only a little better
or a little worse. She's so puzzled; I believe she thinks it's my duty
to go and do something immoral. She thinks it's immoral that I should
marry her brother; but, after all, that isn't immoral enough. And she'll
never understand my mixture--never!"

"She's not so intelligent as her brother then," said Isabel. "He appears
to have understood."

"Oh no, he hasn't!" cried Miss Stackpole with decision. "I really
believe that's what he wants to marry me for--just to find out the
mystery and the proportions of it. That's a fixed idea--a kind of
fascination."

"It's very good in you to humour it."

"Oh well," said Henrietta, "I've something to find out too!" And Isabel
saw that she had not renounced an allegiance, but planned an attack. She
was at last about to grapple in earnest with England.

Isabel also perceived, however, on the morrow, at the Paddington
Station, where she found herself, at ten o'clock, in the company both
of Miss Stackpole and Mr. Bantling, that the gentleman bore his
perplexities lightly. If he had not found out everything he had found
out at least the great point--that Miss Stackpole would not be wanting
in initiative. It was evident that in the selection of a wife he had
been on his guard against this deficiency.

"Henrietta has told me, and I'm very glad," Isabel said as she gave him
her hand.

"I dare say you think it awfully odd," Mr. Bantling replied, resting on
his neat umbrella.

"Yes, I think it awfully odd."

"You can't think it so awfully odd as I do. But I've always rather liked
striking out a line," said Mr. Bantling serenely.

CHAPTER LIV

Isabel's arrival at Gardencourt on this second occasion was even
quieter than it had been on the first. Ralph Touchett kept but a small
household, and to the new servants Mrs. Osmond was a stranger; so that
instead of being conducted to her own apartment she was coldly shown
into the drawing-room and left to wait while her name was carri