VOLUME I
1. CHAPTER I
(continued)
His son broke into a laugh. "He'll think you mean that as a
provocation! My dear father, you've lived with the English for
thirty years, and you've picked up a good many of the things they
say. But you've never learned the things they don't say!"
"I say what I please," the old man returned with all his
serenity.
"I haven't the honour of knowing your niece," Lord Warburton
said. "I think it's the first time I've heard of her."
"She's a niece of my wife's; Mrs. Touchett brings her to
England."
Then young Mr. Touchett explained. "My mother, you know, has been
spending the winter in America, and we're expecting her back. She
writes that she has discovered a niece and that she has invited
her to come out with her."
"I see,--very kind of her," said Lord Warburton. Is the young
lady interesting?"
"We hardly know more about her than you; my mother has not gone
into details. She chiefly communicates with us by means of
telegrams, and her telegrams are rather inscrutable. They say
women don't know how to write them, but my mother has thoroughly
mastered the art of condensation. 'Tired America, hot weather
awful, return England with niece, first steamer decent cabin.'
That's the sort of message we get from her--that was the last
that came. But there had been another before, which I think
contained the first mention of the niece. 'Changed hotel, very
bad, impudent clerk, address here. Taken sister's girl, died last
year, go to Europe, two sisters, quite independent.' Over that my
father and I have scarcely stopped puzzling; it seems to admit of
so many interpretations."
"There's one thing very clear in it," said the old man; "she has
given the hotel-clerk a dressing."
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