VOLUME II
43. CHAPTER XLIII
(continued)
A quick blush sprang to his brow. "You told me she would have no
wish apart from her father's, and as I've gathered that he would
favour me--!" He paused a little and then suggested "Don't you
see?" through his blush.
"Yes, I told you she has an immense wish to please her father,
and that it would probably take her very far."
"That seems to me a very proper feeling," said Lord Warburton.
"Certainly; it's a very proper feeling." Isabel remained silent
for some moments; the room continued empty; the sound of the
music reached them with its richness softened by the interposing
apartments. Then at last she said: "But it hardly strikes me as
the sort of feeling to which a man would wish to be indebted for
a wife."
"I don't know; if the wife's a good one and he thinks she does
well!"
"Yes, of course you must think that."
"I do; I can't help it. You call that very British, of course."
"No, I don't. I think Pansy would do wonderfully well to marry
you, and I don't know who should know it better than you. But
you're not in love."
"Ah, yes I am, Mrs. Osmond!"
Isabel shook her head. "You like to think you are while you sit
here with me. But that's not how you strike me."
"I'm not like the young man in the doorway. I admit that. But
what makes it so unnatural? Could any one in the world be more
loveable than Miss Osmond?"
"No one, possibly. But love has nothing to do with good reasons."
"I don't agree with you. I'm delighted to have good reasons."
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