Touchett's departure, and she determined
to devote the last of these to her promise to call on Pansy Osmond.
Her plan, however, seemed for a moment likely to modify itself in
deference to an idea of Madame Merle's. This lady was still at Casa
Touchett; but she too was on the point of leaving Florence, her next
station being an ancient castle in the mountains of Tuscany, the
residence of a noble family of that country, whose acquaintance (she
had known them, as she said, "forever") seemed to Isabel, in the light
of certain photographs of their immense crenellated dwelling which her
friend was able to show her, a precious privilege. She mentioned to
this fortunate woman that Mr. Osmond had asked her to take a look at
his daughter, but didn't mention that he had also made her a
declaration of love.
"Ah, comme cela se trouve!" Madame Merle exclaimed. "I myself have
been thinking it would be a kindness to pay the child a little visit
before I go off."
"We can go together then," Isabel reasonably said: "reasonably"
because the proposal was not uttered in the spirit of enthusiasm.
She had prefigured her small pilgrimage as made in solitude; she
should like it better so.
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