VOLUME I
7. CHAPTER VII
(continued)
"A specimen of what?" asked the girl.
"A specimen of an English gentleman."
"Do you mean they're all like him?"
"Oh no; they're not all like him."
"He's a favourable specimen then," said Isabel; "because I'm sure
he's nice."
"Yes, he's very nice. And he's very fortunate."
The fortunate Lord Warburton exchanged a handshake with our
heroine and hoped she was very well. "But I needn't ask that," he
said, "since you've been handling the oars."
"I've been rowing a little," Isabel answered; "but how should you
know it?"
"Oh, I know he doesn't row; he's too lazy," said his lordship,
indicating Ralph Touchett with a laugh.
"He has a good excuse for his laziness," Isabel rejoined,
lowering her voice a little.
"Ah, he has a good excuse for everything!" cried Lord Warburton,
still with his sonorous mirth.
"My excuse for not rowing is that my cousin rows so well," said
Ralph. "She does everything well. She touches nothing that she
doesn't adorn!"
"It makes one want to be touched, Miss Archer," Lord Warburton
declared.
"Be touched in the right sense and you'll never look the worse
for it," said Isabel, who, if it pleased her to hear it said that
her accomplishments were numerous, was happily able to reflect
that such complacency was not the indication of a feeble mind,
inasmuch as there were several things in which she excelled. Her
desire to think well of herself had at least the element of
humility that it always needed to be supported by proof.
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