Cartes sur
table," Madame Merle subjoined in a moment, "I'm not afraid of him."
"I hope not indeed," said Isabel, who added something about his
being the kindest creature living. She remembered, however, that on
her first asking him about Madame Merle he had answered her in a
manner which this lady might have thought injurious without being
explicit. There was something between them, Isabel said to herself,
but she said nothing more than this. If it were something of
importance it should inspire respect; if it were not it was not
worth her curiosity. With all her love of knowledge she had a
natural shrinking from raising curtains and looking into unlighted
corners. The love of knowledge coexisted in her mind with the finest
capacity for ignorance.
But Madame Merle sometimes said things that startled her, made her
raise her clear eyebrows at the time and think of the words
afterwards. "I'd give a great deal to be your age again," she broke
out once with a bitterness which, though diluted in her customary
amplitude of ease, was imperfectly disguised by it. "If I could only
begin again- if I could have my life before me!"
"Your life's before you yet," Isabel answered gently, for she was
vaguely awe-struck.
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