VOLUME I
16. CHAPTER XVI
(continued)
"When you leave your uncle where do you go?" her companion asked.
"I go abroad with my aunt--to Florence and other places."
The serenity of this announcement struck a chill to the young
man's heart; he seemed to see her whirled away into circles from
which he was inexorably excluded. Nevertheless he went on quickly
with his questions. "And when shall you come back to America?"
"Perhaps not for a long time. I'm very happy here."
"Do you mean to give up your country?"
"Don't be an infant!"
"Well, you'll be out of my sight indeed!" said Caspar Goodwood.
"I don't know," she answered rather grandly. "The world--with all
these places so arranged and so touching each other--comes to
strike one as rather small."
"It's a sight too big for ME!" Caspar exclaimed with a simplicity
our young lady might have found touching if her face had not been
set against concessions.
This attitude was part of a system, a theory, that she had lately
embraced, and to be thorough she said after a moment: "Don't
think me unkind if I say it's just THAT--being out of your sight--
that I like. If you were in the same place I should feel you were
watching me, and I don't like that--I like my liberty too much.
If there's a thing in the world I'm fond of," she went on with a
slight recurrence of grandeur, "it's my personal independence."
But whatever there might be of the too superior in this speech
moved Caspar Goodwood's admiration; there was nothing he winced
at in the large air of it. He had never supposed she hadn't wings
and the need of beautiful free movements--he wasn't, with his own
long arms and strides, afraid of any force in her. Isabel's
words, if they had been meant to shock him, failed of the mark
and only made him smile with the sense that here was common
ground. "Who would wish less to curtail your liberty than I? What
can give me greater pleasure than to see you perfectly
independent--doing whatever you like? It's to make you
independent that I want to marry you."
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