THE WINGS OF THE DOVE
then for the other party: "Mr. Merton Densher—who has just come back from America."
"Oh!" said the other party, while Densher said nothing—occupied as he mainly was on the spot with weighing the sound in question. He recognised it in a moment as less imponderable than it might have appeared, as having indeed positive claims. It wasn't, that is, he knew the "Oh!" of the idiot, however great the superficial resemblance: it was that of the clever, the accomplished man; it was the very specialty of the speaker, and a deal of expensive training and experience had gone to producing it. Densher felt somehow that, as a thing of value accidentally picked up, it would retain an interest of curiosity. The three stood for a little together in an awkwardness to which he was conscious of contributing his share; Kate failing to ask Lord Mark to be seated, but letting him know that he would find Mrs. Lowder, with some others, on the balcony.
"Oh, and Miss Theale I suppose?—as I seemed to hear outside, from below, Mrs. Stringham's unmistakable voice."
"Yes, but Mrs. Stringham's alone. Milly's unwell," the girl explained, "and was compelled to disappoint us."
"Ah, 'disappoint'—rather!" And, lingering a little, he had his eyes on Densher while he inquired further. "She isn't really bad, I trust?"
Densher, after all he had heard, easily supposed him interested in Milly; but he could imagine him
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