"From an old friend—an American gentleman," Isabel said with a colour in her cheek.
"An American gentleman of course. It's only an American gentleman who calls at ten o'clock in the morning."
"It was half-past ten; he was in a great hurry; he goes away this evening."
"Couldn't he have come yesterday, at the usual time?"
"He only arrived last night."
"He spends but twenty-four hours in Florence?"Mrs. Touchett cried. "He's an American gentleman truly."
"He is indeed," said Isabel, thinking with perverse admiration of what Caspar Goodwood had done for her.