for Charlotte--was that the
Assingham pair, drifting like everyone else, had had somewhere in
the gallery, in the rooms, an accidental concussion; had it after the
Colonel, over his balustrade, had observed, in the favouring high
light, her public junction with the Prince. His very dryness, in this
encounter, had, as always, struck a spark from his wife's curiosity,
and, familiar, on his side, with all that she saw in things, he had
thrown her, as a fine little bone to pick, some report of the way one of
her young friends was "going on" with another. He knew perfectly--such
at least was Charlotte's liberal assumption--that she wasn't going on
with anyone, but she also knew that, given the circumstances, she was
inevitably to be sacrificed, in some form or another, to the humorous
intercourse of the inimitable couple. The Prince meanwhile had also,
under coercion, sacrificed her; the Ambassador had come up to him with
a message from Royalty, to whom he was led away; after which she had
talked for five minutes with Sir John Brinder, who had been of the
Ambassador's company and who had rather artlessly remained with her.
Fanny had then arrived in sight of them at the same moment as someone
else she didn't know, someone who knew Mrs. Assingham and also knew Sir
John. Charlotte had left it to her friend's competence to throw the two
others immediately together and to find a way for entertaining her in
closer quarters. This was the little history of the vision, in her, that
was now rapidly helping her to recognise a precious chance, the chance
that mightn't again soon be so good for the vivid making of a point. Her
point was before her; it was sharp, bright, true; above all it was
her own. She had reached it quite by herself; no one, not even
Amerigo--Amerigo least of all, who would have nothing to do with it--had
given her aid. To make it now with force for Fanny Assingham's benefit
would see her further, in the direction in which the light had dawned,
than any other spring she should, yet awhile, doubtless, be able to
press. The direction was that of her greater freedom--which was all in
the world she had in mind. Her opportunity had accordingly, after a few
minutes of Mrs. Assingham's almost imprudently interested expression
of face, positively acquired such a price for her that she may, for
ourselves, while the intensity lasted, rather resemble a person holding
out a small mirror at arm's length and consulting it with a sp