"Yes--it would be kind. It would be quite beautiful of you. That is, of course," said Maggie, "if you sincerely CAN."
He appeared to wonder an instant why he sincerely shouldn't, and indeed, for that matter, where the question of sincerity came in. This virtue, between him and his daughter's friend, had surely been taken for granted. "My dear child," he returned, "I don't think I'm afraid of Charlotte."
"Well, that's just what it's lovely to have from you. From the moment you're NOT--the least little bit--I'll immediately invite her."
"But where in the world is she?" He spoke as if he had not thought of Charlotte, nor so much as heard her name pronounced, for a very long time. He quite in fact amicably, almost amusedly, woke up to her.
"She's in Brittany, at a little bathing-place, with some people I don't know. She's always with people, poor dear--she rather has to be; even when, as is sometimes the case; they're people she doesn't immensely like."
"Well, I guess she likes US," said Adam Verver. "Yes--fortunately she likes us. And if I wasn't afraid of spoiling it for you," Maggie added, "I'd even mention that you're not the one of our number she likes least."
"Why should that spoil it for me?"
"Oh, my dear, you know. What else have we been talking about? It costs you so much to be liked. That's why I hesitated to tell you of my letter."
He stared a moment--as if the subject had suddenly grown out of recognition. "But Charlotte--on other visits--never used to cost me anything."
"No--only her 'keep,'" Maggie smiled.
"Then I don't think I mind her keep--if that's all." The Princess, however, it was clear, wished to be thoroughly conscientious. "Well, it may not be quite all. If I think of its being pleasant to have her, it's because she WILL make a difference."
"Well, what's the harm in that if it's but a difference for the better?"
"Ah then--there you are!" And the Princess showed in
