think she will change her course, at the outset, at a signal from Gilbert Osmond. She may have slackened speed for an hour, but before we know it she will be steaming away again. Excuse another metaphor."
Mrs. Touchett excused it perhaps, but she was not so much reassured as to withhold from Madame Merle the expression of her fears. "You who know everything," she said, "you must know this: whether that man is making love to my niece."
Madame Merle opened her expressive eyes, and with a brilliant smile—"Heaven help us," she exclaimed, "that's an idea!"
"Has it never occurred to you?"
"You make me feel like a fool—but I confess it hasn't. I wonder," added Madame Merle, "whether it has occurred to her."
"I think I will ask her," said Mrs. Touchett.
Madame Merle reflected a moment. "Don't put it into her head. The thing would be to ask Mr. Osmond."
"I can't do that," said Mrs. Touchett; "it's none of my business."
"I will ask him myself," Madame Merle declared, bravely.
"It's none of yours, either."
"That's precisely why I can afford to ask him; it is so much less my business than any one's else, that in me the question will not seem to him embarrassing."
"Pray let me know on the first day, then," said Mrs. Touchett. "If I can't speak to him, at least I can speak to her."
"Don't be too quick with her; don't inflame her imagination."
"I never did anything to any one's imagination. But I am always sure she will do something I don't like."
