But if I were to annoy you by seeming
to take a place that doesn't belong to me, you wouldn't make that
reflection; you'd simply say I was forgetting certain differences. I'm
determined not to forget them. Certainly a good friend isn't always
thinking of that; one doesn't suspect one's friends of injustice. I
don't suspect you, my dear, in the least; but I suspect human
nature. Don't think I make myself uncomfortable; I'm not always
watching myself. I think I sufficiently prove it in talking to you
as I do now. All I wish to say is, however, that if you were to be
jealous-that's the form it would take-I should be sure to think it was
a little my fault. It certainly wouldn't be your husband's."
Isabel had had three years to think over Mrs. Touchett's theory that
Madame Merle had made Gilbert Osmond's marriage. We know how she had
at first received it. Madame Merle might have made Gilbert Osmond's
marriage, but she certainly had not made Isabel Archer's. That was the
work of-Isabel scarcely knew what: of nature, providence, fortune,
of the eternal mystery of things. It was true her aunt's complaint had
been not so much of Madame Merle's activity as of her duplicity: she
had brought about the strange event and then she had denied her guilt.
Pages:
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705