. »Thanks, I'd rather not. Your correspondence with
Mother's your own affair. I'm only with you both on it, whatever it is.«
Strether, at this, while their eyes met, slowly folded the missive and put it in
his pocket; after which, before he had spoken again, Chad broke fresh ground.
»Has Miss Gostrey come back?«
    But when Strether presently spoke it wasn't in answer. »It's not, I gather,
that your mother's physically ill; her health, on the whole, this spring, seems
to have been better than usual. But she's worried, she's anxious, and it appears
to have risen within the last few days to a climax. We've tired out, between us,
her patience.«
    »Oh it isn't you!« Chad generously protested.
    »I beg your pardon - it is me.« Strether was mild and melancholy, but firm.
He saw it far away and over his companion's head. »It's very particularly me.«
    »Well then all the more reason. Marchons, marchons!« said the young man
gaily. His host, however, at this, but continued to stand agaze; and he had the
next thing repeated his question of a moment before. »Has Miss Gostrey come
back?«
    »Yes, two days ago.«
    »Then you've seen her?«
    »No - I'm to see her to-day.« But Strether wouldn't linger now on Miss
Gostrey. »Your mother sends me an ultimatum. If I can't bring you I'm to leave
you; I'm to come at any rate myself.«
    »Ah but you can bring me now,« Chad, from his sofa, reassuringly replied.
    Strether had a pause. »I don't think I understand you. Why was it that, more
than a month ago, you put it to me so urgently to let Madame de Vionnet speak
for you?«
    »Why?« Chad considered, but he had it at his fingers' ends. »Why but because
I knew how well she'd do it? It was the way to keep you quiet and, to that
extent, do you good. Besides,« he happily and comfortably explained, »I wanted
you really to know her and to get the impression of her - and you see the good
that has done you.«
    »Well,«
