"I judge more than I used to," she said to Isabel,"but it seems to me one has earned the right. One can＇t judge till one＇s forty; before that we＇re too eager, too hard, too cruel, and in addition much too ignorant. I＇m sorry for you; it will be a long time before you＇re forty.But every gain＇s a loss of some kind; I often think that after forty one can＇t really feel. The freshness,the quickness have certainly gone. You＇ll keep them longer than most people; it will be a great satisfaction to me to see you some years hence. I want to see what life makes of you. One thing＇s certain—it can＇t spoil you. It may pull you about horribly, but I defy it to break you up."