THE WINGS OF THE DOVE
when they are not quite candid—a circumstance that had its effect. "Yes; he's charming."
The effect of the words, however, was equally marked; they almost determined in Mrs. Stringham a return of amusement. "I thought you didn't like him!"
"I don't like him for Kate."
"But you don't like him for Milly either."
Mrs. Stringham rose as she spoke, and her friend also got up. "I like him, my dear, for myself."
"Then that's the best way of all."
"Well, it's one way. He's not good enough for my niece, and he's not good enough for you. One's an aunt, one's a wretch and one's a fool."
"Oh, I'm not—not either," Susie declared.
But her companion kept on. "One lives for others. You do that. If I were living for myself I shouldn't at all mind him."
But Mrs. Stringham was sturdier. "Ah, if I find him charming it's however I'm living."
Well, it broke Mrs. Lowder down. She hung fire but an instant, giving herself away with a laugh. "Of course he's all right in himself."
"That's all I contend," Susie said with more reserve; and the note in question—what Merton Densher was "in himself"—closed practically, with some inconsequence, this first of their councils.
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