often heard of, read of, thought
of, but never met, whose very presence, look, voice, the mere
contemporaneous FACT of whom, from the moment it was at all presented,
made a relation of mere recognition. That was not the kind of woman he
had ever found Mrs. Newsome, a contemporaneous fact who had been
distinctly slow to establish herself; and at present, confronted with
Madame de Vionnet, he felt the simplicity of his original impression of
Miss Gostrey. She certainly had been a fact of rapid growth; but the
world was wide, each day was more and more a new lesson. There were at
any rate even among the stranger ones relations and relations. "Of
course I suit Chad's grand way," he quickly added. "He hasn't had much
difficulty in working me in."

She seemed to deny a little, on the young man's behalf, by the rise of
her eyebrows, an intention of any process at all inconsiderate. "You
must know how grieved he'd be if you were to lose anything. He
believes you can keep his mother patient."

Strether wondered with his eyes on her. "I see. THAT'S then what you
really want of me. And how am I to do it? Perhaps you'll tell me
that."

"Simply tell her the truth."

"And what do you call the truth?"

"Well, any truth--about us all--that you see yourself. I leave it to
you."

"Thank you very much. I like," Strether laughed with a slight
harshness, "the way you leave things!"

But she insisted kindly, gently, as if it wasn't so bad. "Be perfectly
honest. Tell her all."

"All?" he oddly echoed.

"Tell her the simple truth," Madame de Vionnet again pleaded.

"But what is the simple truth? The simple truth is exactly what I'm
trying to discover."

She looked about a while, but presently she came back to him. "Tell
her, fully and clearly, about US."

Strether meanwhile had been staring. "You and your daughter?"

"Yes--little Jeanne and me. Tell her," she just slightly quavered,
"you like us."

"And what good will that do me? Or rather"--he caught himself
up--"what good will it do YOU?"

She looked graver. "None, you believe, really?"

Strether debated. "She didn't send me out to 'like' you."

"Oh," she charmingly contended, "she sent you out to face the facts."

He admitted after an instant that there was something in that. "But
how can I face them till I know what they are? Do you want him," he
then braced himself to ask, "to marry your daughter?"

She gave a headshake as noble as it was pr