VOLUME II
43. CHAPTER XLIII
(continued)
"Certainly not, if I can't dance with HER!" he answered.
"You had better go away then," said Isabel with the manner of
good counsel.
"I shall not go till she does!" And he let Lord Warburton pass
without giving him a look.
This nobleman, however, had noticed the melancholy youth, and he
asked Isabel who her dismal friend was, remarking that he had
seen him somewhere before.
"It's the young man I've told you about, who's in love with
Pansy."
"Ah yes, I remember. He looks rather bad."
"He has reason. My husband won't listen to him."
"What's the matter with him?" Lord Warburton enquired. "He seems
very harmless."
"He hasn't money enough, and he isn't very clever."
Lord Warburton listened with interest; he seemed struck with this
account of Edward Rosier. "Dear me; he looked a well-set-up young
fellow."
"So he is, but my husband's very particular."
"Oh, I see." And Lord Warburton paused a moment. "How much money
has he got?" he then ventured to ask.
"Some forty thousand francs a year."
"Sixteen hundred pounds? Ah, but that's very good, you know."
"So I think. My husband, however, has larger ideas."
"Yes; I've noticed that your husband has very large ideas. Is he
really an idiot, the young man?"
"An idiot? Not in the least; he's charming. When he was twelve
years old I myself was in love with him."
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