Ralph meanwhile handed Isabel her candlestick. He had been watching her; it had seemed to him her temper was involved—an accident that might be interesting. But if he had expected anything of a flare he was disappointed, for the girl simply laughed a little, nodded good-night and withdrew accompanied by her aunt. For himself he was annoyed at his mother, though he thought she was right. Above-stairs the two ladies separated at Mrs. Touchett’s door. Isabel had said nothing on her way up.
“Of course you’re vexed at my interfering with you,” said Mrs. Touchett.
Isabel considered. “I’m not vexed, but I’m surprised—and a good deal mystified. Wasn’t it proper I should remain in the drawing-room?”
“Not in the least. Young girls here—in decent houses—don’t sit alone with the gentlemen late at night.”
“You were very right to tell me then,” said Isabel. “I don’t understand it, but I’m very glad to know it.
“I shall always tell you,” her aunt answered, “whenever I see you taking what seems to me too much liberty.”
“Pray do; but I don’t say I shall always think your remonstrance just.”
“Very likely not. You’re too fond of your own ways.”
“Yes, I think I’m very fond of them. But I always want to know the things one shouldn’t do.”
“So as to do them?” asked her aunt.