She had
seated herself and had put away the little dog; her white hands, in
her lap, were folded upon her black dress; her head was erect, her eye
lighted, her flexible figure turned itself easily this way and that,
in sympathy with the alertness with which she evidently caught
impressions. Her impressions were numerous, and they were all
reflected in a clear, still smile. "I've never seen anything so
beautiful as this."
"It's looking very well," said Mr. Touchett. "I know the way it
strikes you. I've been through all that. But you're very beautiful
yourself," he added with a politeness by no means crudely jocular
and with the happy consciousness that his advanced age gave him the
privilege of saying such things- even to young persons who might
possibly take alarm at them.
What degree of alarm this young person took need not be exactly
measured; she instantly rose, however, with a blush which was not a
refutation. "Oh yes, of course I'm lovely!" she returned with a
quick laugh. "How old is your house? Is it Elizabethan?"
"It's early Tudor," said Ralph Touchett.
She turned toward him, watching his face. "Early Tudor? How very
delightful! And I suppose there are a great many others.
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