Lily's conception of such achievements was extremely vague; but this was exactly what she had expected of Isabel--to give it form and body.

Isabel could have done as well as she had done in New York; and Mrs.Ludlow appealed to her husband to know whether there was any privilege she enjoyed in Europe which the society of that city might not offer her.

We know ourselves that Isabel had made conquests--whether inferior or not to those she might have effected in her native land it would be a delicate matter to decide; and it is not altogether with a feeling of complacency that I again mention that she had not rendered these honourable victories public.

She had not told her sister the history of Lord Warburton, nor had she given her a hint of Mr.Osmond's state of mind; and she had had no better reason for her silence than that she didn't wish to speak.
It was more romantic to say nothing, and, drinking deep, in secret, of romance, she was as little disposed to ask poor Lily's advice as she would have been to close that rare volume forever.

But Lily knew nothing of these discriminations, and could only pronounce her sister's career a strange anti-climax--an impression confirmed by the fact that Isabel's silence about Mr.Osmond, for instance, was in direct proportion to the frequency with which he occupied her thoughts.