VOLUME II
44. CHAPTER XLIV
(continued)
Henrietta got up; these seemed to her, naturally, very dreadful
expectations. She honestly believed she had no desire to see Mr.
Osmond unhappy; and indeed he could not be for her the subject of
a flight of fancy. She was on the whole rather disappointed in
the Countess, whose mind moved in a narrower circle than she had
imagined, though with a capacity for coarseness even there. "It
will be better if they love each other," she said for
edification.
"They can't. He can't love any one."
"I presumed that was the case. But it only aggravates my fear for
Isabel. I shall positively start to-morrow."
"Isabel certainly has devotees," said the Countess, smiling very
vividly. "I declare I don't pity her."
"It may be I can't assist her," Miss Stackpole pursued, as if it
were well not to have illusions.
"You can have wanted to, at any rate; that's something. I
believe that's what you came from America for," the Countess
suddenly added.
"Yes, I wanted to look after her," Henrietta said serenely.
Her hostess stood there smiling at her with small bright eyes and
an eager-looking nose; with cheeks into each of which a flush had
come. "Ah, that's very pretty c'est bien gentil! Isn't it what
they call friendship?"
"I don't know what they call it. I thought I had better come."
"She's very happy--she's very fortunate," the Countess went on.
"She has others besides." And then she broke out passionately.
"She's more fortunate than I! I'm as unhappy as she--I've a very
bad husband; he's a great deal worse than Osmond. And I've no
friends. I thought I had, but they're gone. No one, man or woman,
would do for me what you've done for her."
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