THE BOSTONIANS

A NOVEL

BY HENRY JAMES

IN TWO VOLUMES

VOL. I

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
1921

First Published in 1886


BOOK FIRST

I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX

BOOK SECOND

XXI
XXII
XXIII


BOOK FIRST


I

"Olive will come down in about ten minutes; she told me to tell youthat. About ten; that is exactly like Olive. Neither five nor fifteen,and yet not ten exactly, but either nine or eleven. She didn't tell meto say she was glad to see you, because she doesn't know whether she isor not, and she wouldn't for the world expose herself to telling a fib.She is very honest, is Olive Chancellor; she is full of rectitude.Nobody tells fibs in Boston; I don't know what to make of them all.Well, I am very glad to see you, at any rate."

These words were spoken with much volubility by a fair, plump, smilingwoman who entered a narrow drawing-room in which a visitor, kept waitingfor a few moments, was already absorbed in a book. The gentleman had noteven needed to sit down to become interested: apparently he had taken upthe volume from a table as soon as he came in, and, standing there,after a single glance round the apartment, had lost himself in itspages. He threw it down at the approach of Mrs. Luna, laughed, shookhands with her, and said in answer to her last remark, "You imply thatyou do tell fibs. Perhaps that is one."

"Oh no; there is nothing wonderful in my being glad to see you," Mrs.Luna rejoined, "when I tell you that I have been three long weeks inthis unprevaricating city."

"That has an unflattering sound for me," said the young man. "I pretendnot to prevaricate."

"Dear me, what's the good of being a Southerner?" the lady asked. "Olivetold me to tell you she hoped you will stay to dinner. And if she saidit, she does really hope it. She is willing to risk that."

"Just as I am?" the visitor inquired, presenting himself with rather awork-a-day aspect.

Mrs. Luna glanced at him from head to foot, and gave a little smilingsigh, as if he had been a long sum in addition. And, indeed, he was verylong, Basil Ransom, and he even looked a little hard and discouraging,like a column of figures, in spite of the friendly face which he bentupon his hostess's deputy, and which, in its thinness, had a deep dryline, a sort of premature wrinkle, on either side of the mouth. He wastall and lean, and dressed throughout in black; his shirt-collar was lowand wide, a

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