offers, and it may be confided to the reader that if the young man delayed to carry them out it was because he found the labour of providing for his companion by no means so severe as to require extraneous help. Isabel had spoken to him very often about ‘specimens’, it was a word that played a considerable part in her vocabulary; she had given him to understand that she wished to see English society illustrated by eminent cases.

‘Well now, there’s a specimen,’ he said to her as they walked up from the riverside and he recognized Lord Warburton.

‘A specimen of what?’ asked the girl.

‘A specimen of an English gentleman.’

‘Do you mean they’re all like him?’

‘Oh no; they’re not all like him.’

‘He’s a favourable specimen then,’ said Isabel; ‘because I’m sure he’s nice.’

‘Yes, he’s very nice. And he’s very fortunate.’

The fortunate Lord Warburton exchanged a handshake with our heroine and hoped she was very well. ‘But I needn’t ask that,’ he said, ‘since you’ve been handling the oars.’

‘I’ve been rowing a little,’ Isabel answered; ‘but how should you know it?’

‘Oh, I know he doesn’t row; he’s too lazy,’ said his lordship, indicating Ralph Touchett with a laugh.

‘He has a good excuse for his laziness,’ Isabel rejoined, lowering her voice a little.

‘Ah, he has a good excuse for everything!’ cried Lord Warburton, still with his sonorous mirth.

‘My excuse for not rowing is that my cousin rows so well,’ said Ralph. ‘She does everything well. She touches nothing that she doesn’t adorn!’

‘It makes one want to be touched, Miss Archer,’ Lord Warburton declared.

‘Be touched in the right sense and you’ll never look the worse for it,’ said Isabel, who, if it pleased her to hear it said that her accomplishments were numerous, was happily able to reflect that such complacency was not the indication of a feeble mind, inasmuch as there were several things in which she excelled. Her desire to think well of herself had at least the element of humility that it always needed to be supported by proof.

Lord Warburton not only spent the night at Gardencourt, but he was persuaded to remain over the second day; and when the second day was ended he determined to postpone his departure till the morrow. During this period he addressed many of his remarks to Isabel, who accepted this evidence of his esteem with a very good grace. She found herself liking him extremely; the first impression he had made on her had had weight, but at the end of an evening spent in his society she scarce fell short of seeing him—though quite without luridity—as a hero of romance. She retired to rest with a sense of good fortune, with a quickened consciousness of possible felicities. ‘It’s very nice to know two such charming people as those,’ she said, meaning by ‘those’ her cousin and her cousin’s friend. It must be added moreover that an incident had occurred which might have seemed to put her good-humour to the test. Mr Touchett went to bed at half-past nine o’clock, but his wife remained in the drawing-room with the other members of the party. She prolonged her vigil for something less than an hour, and then, rising, observed to Isabel that it was time they should bid the gentlemen good-night. Isabel had as yet no desire to go to bed; the