VOLUME II
51. CHAPTER LI
(continued)
"Yes, yes, the mother has done so," said Isabel, who had listened
to all this with a face more and more wan. "She betrayed herself
to me the other day, though I didn't recognise her. There
appeared to have been a chance of Pansy's making a great
marriage, and in her disappointment at its not coming off she
almost dropped the mask."
"Ah, that's where she'd dish herself!" cried the Countess. "She
has failed so dreadfully that she's determined her daughter shall
make it up."
Isabel started at the words "her daughter," which her guest threw
off so familiarly. "It seems very wonderful," she murmured; and
in this bewildering impression she had almost lost her sense of
being personally touched by the story.
"Now don't go and turn against the poor innocent child!" the
Countess went on. "She's very nice, in spite of her deplorable
origin. I myself have liked Pansy; not, naturally, because she
was hers, but because she had become yours."
"Yes, she has become mine. And how the poor woman must have
suffered at seeing me--!" Isabel exclaimed while she flushed at
the thought.
"I don't believe she has suffered; on the contrary, she has
enjoyed. Osmond's marriage has given his daughter a great little
lift. Before that she lived in a hole. And do you know what the
mother thought? That you might take such a fancy to the child
that you'd do something for her. Osmond of course could never
give her a portion. Osmond was really extremely poor; but of
course you know all about that. Ah, my dear," cried the Countess,
"why did you ever inherit money?" She stopped a moment as if she
saw something singular in Isabel's face. "Don't tell me now that
you'll give her a dot. You're capable of that, but I would refuse
to believe it. Don't try to be too good. Be a little easy and
natural and nasty; feel a little wicked, for the comfort of it,
once in your life!"
"It's very strange. I suppose I ought to know, but I'm sorry,"
Isabel said. "I'm much obliged to you."
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