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THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY.
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THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. 119 than I am ? " the girl asked, with some animation. " I don't mean that I am too good to. improve. I mean I mean that I don't love Lord Warburton enough to marry him." "You did right to refuse him, then," said Mrs. Touchett, in her little spare voice. " Only, the next great offer you get, I hope you will manage to come up to your standard." "We had better wait till the offer comes, before we talk about it. I hope very much that I may have no more offers for the present. They bother me fearfully." " You probably won't be troubled with them if you adopt permanently the Bohemian manner of life. However, I have promised Ealph not to criticise the affair." "I will do whatever Ealph sass is right," Isabel said. "I have unbounded confidence in Ealph." "His mother is much obliged to you ! " cried this lady, with a laugh. " It seems to me she ought to be," Isabel rejoined, smiling. Ralph had assured her that there would be no violation of decency in their paying a visit the little party of three to the sights of the metropolis ; but Mrs. Touchett took a different view. Like many ladies of her country who have lived a long time in Europe, she had completely lost her native tact on such points, and in her reaction, not in itself deplorable, against the liberty allowed to young persons beyond the seas, had fallen into gratuitous and exaggerated scruples. Ealph accompanied the two young ladies to town and established them at a quiet inn in a street that ran at right angles to Piccadilly. His first idea had been to take them to his father's house in Winchester Square, a large, dull mansion, which at this period of the year was shrouded in silence and brown ho Hand ; but he bethought himself that, the 1 cook being at Gardencourt, there was 110 one in the house to get them their meals ; and Prait's Hotel accord- ingly became their resting-place. Ealph, on his side, found quarters in Winchester Square, having a " den " there of which he was very fond, and not being dependent on the local cuisine. He availed himself largely indeed of that of Pratt's Hotel, beginning his day with an early visit to his fellow-travellers, who had Mr. Pratt in person, in a large bulging white waistcoat, to remove their dish-covers. Ealph turned up, as he said, after breakfast, and the little party made out a scheme of entertain- ment for the day. As London does not wear in the month of September its most brilliant face, the young man, who occasionally took an apologetic tone, was obliged to remind his