VOLUME II
52. CHAPTER LII
(continued)
"Yes; but I know it better. I'll do anything--I'll do anything,"
said Pansy. Then, as she heard her own words, a deep, pure blush
came into her face. Isabel read the meaning of it; she saw the
poor girl had been vanquished. It was well that Mr. Edward Rosier
had kept his enamels! Isabel looked into her eyes and saw there
mainly a prayer to be treated easily. She laid her hand on
Pansy's as if to let her know that her look conveyed no diminution
of esteem; for the collapse of the girl's momentary resistance
(mute and modest thought it had been) seemed only her tribute to
the truth of things. She didn't presume to judge others, but she
had judged herself; she had seen the reality. She had no vocation
for struggling with combinations; in the solemnity of
sequestration there was something that overwhelmed her. She bowed
her pretty head to authority and only asked of authority to be
merciful. Yes; it was very well that Edward Rosier had reserved a
few articles!
Isabel got up; her time was rapidly shortening. "Good-bye then. I
leave Rome to-night."
Pansy took hold of her dress; there was a sudden change in the
child's face. "You look strange, you frighten me."
"Oh, I'm very harmless," said Isabel.
"Perhaps you won't come back?"
"Perhaps not. I can't tell."
"Ah, Mrs. Osmond, you won't leave me!"
Isabel now saw she had guessed everything. "My dear child, what
can I do for you?" she asked.
"I don't know--but I'm happier when I think of you."
"You can always think of me."
"Not when you're so far. I'm a little afraid," said Pansy.
"What are you afraid of?"
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