Mrs. Stringham's tone in these last words gave so fully her meaning that Mrs. Lowder could but show herself as taking it in. They sat a moment longer confronted on it.
"Her having what she does want?"
"If it will do anything for her."
Mrs. Lowder seemed to think what it might do; but she spoke for the instant of something else.
"It does provoke me a bit, you know—for of course I'm a brute.
And I had thought of all sorts of things.
Yet it doesn't prevent the fact that we must be decent."
"We must take her"—Mrs. Stringham carried that out—"as she is."
"And we must take Mr. Densher as he is." With which Mrs. Lowder gave a sombre laugh. "It's a pity he isn't better!"
"Well, if he were better," her friend rejoined, "you'd have liked him for your niece; and in that case Milly would interfere.
I mean," Susie added, "interfere with you."
"She interferes with me as it is—not that it matters now.
But I saw Kate and her—really as soon as you came to me—set up side by side.
I saw your girl—I don't mind telling—you helping my girl; and when I say that," Mrs. Lowder continued, "you'll probably put in for yourself that it was part of the reason of my welcome to you.
So you see what I give up.
I do give it up.
But when I take that line," she further set forth, "I take it handsomely.
So good-bye to it all.
Good-day to Mrs. Densher!
Heavens!" she growled.
Susie held herself a minute.
"Even as Mrs. Densher my girl will be somebody."
"Yes, she won't be nobody.
Besides," said Mrs. Lowder, "we're talking in the air."
Her companion sadly assented. "We're leaving everything out."
"It's nevertheless interesting." And Mrs. Lowder had another thought. "He's not quite nobody either." It brought her back to the question she had already put and which her friend hadn't at the time dealt with. "What in fact do you make of him?"
Susan Shepherd, at this, for reasons not clear even to herself, was moved a little to caution.
So she remained general.
"He's charming."
She had met Mrs. Lowder's eyes with that extreme pointedness in her own to which people resort 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.