"Oh," said Mrs. Stringham, "it's he who has kept me going. I wired the first night, and he answered like an angel. He'll come like one. Only he can't arrive, at the nearest, till Thursday afternoon."
She considered. "Something--yes. She likes him."
"Rather! I can see it still, the face with which, when he was here in October--that night when she was in white, when she had people there and those musicians--she committed him to my care. It was beautiful for both of us--she put us in relation. She asked me, for the time, to take him about; I did so, and we quite hit it off. That proved," Densher said with a quick sad smile, "that she liked him."
"He liked _you_," Susan Shepherd presently risked.
"You ought to then. He went with you to galleries and churches; you saved his time for him, showed him the choicest things, and you perhaps will remember telling me myself that if he hadn't been a great surgeon he might really have been a great judge. I mean of the beautiful."
"Well," the young man admitted, "that's what he is--in having judged _her_. He hasn't," he went on, "judged her for nothing. His interest in her--which we must make the most of--can only be supremely beneficent."
He still roamed, while he spoke, with his hands in his pockets, and she saw him, on this, as her eyes sufficiently betrayed, trying to keep his distance from the recognition he had a few moments before partly confessed to. "I'm glad," she dropped, "you like him!"
There was something for him in the sound of it. "Well, I do no more, dear lady, than you do yourself. Surely _you_ like him. Surely, when he was here, we all liked him."
"Yes, but I seem to feel I know what he thinks. And I should think, with all the time you spent with him, you'd know it," she said, "yourself."
Densher stopped short, though at first without a word. "We never spoke of her. Neither of us mentioned her, even to sound her name, and nothing whatever in connexion with her passed between us."
Mrs. Stringham stared up at him, surprised at this picture. But she had plainly an idea that after an instant resisted it. "That was his professional propriety."
"Precisely. But it was also my sense of that virtue in him, and it was something more besides." And he spoke with sudden intensity. "I couldn't _talk_ to him about her!"