g at Madame Merle, he pushed one or two chairs back into
their places. His visitor waited a moment for him to speak, watching him
as he moved about. Then at last she said: "I hoped you'd have come to
Rome. I thought it possible you'd have wished yourself to fetch Pansy
away."

"That was a natural supposition; but I'm afraid it's not the first time
I've acted in defiance of your calculations."

"Yes," said Madame Merle, "I think you very perverse."

Mr. Osmond busied himself for a moment in the room--there was plenty of
space in it to move about--in the fashion of a man mechanically
seeking pretexts for not giving an attention which may be embarrassing.
Presently, however, he had exhausted his pretexts; there was nothing
left for him--unless he took up a book--but to stand with his hands
behind him looking at Pansy. "Why didn't you come and see the last of
mamman Catherine?" he asked of her abruptly in French.

Pansy hesitated a moment, glancing at Madame Merle. "I asked her to stay
with me," said this lady, who had seated herself again in another place.

"Ah, that was better," Osmond conceded. With which he dropped into a
chair and sat looking at Madame Merle; bent forward a little, his elbows
on the edge of the arms and his hands interlocked.

"She's going to give me some gloves," said Pansy.

"You needn't tell that to every one, my dear," Madame Merle observed.

"You're very kind to her," said Osmond. "She's supposed to have
everything she needs."

"I should think she had had enough of the nuns."

"If we're going to discuss that matter she had better go out of the
room."

"Let her stay," said Madame Merle. "We'll talk of something else."

"If you like I won't listen," Pansy suggested with an appearance of
candour which imposed conviction.

"You may listen, charming child, because you won't understand," her
father replied. The child sat down, deferentially, near the open door,
within sight of the garden, into which she directed her innocent,
wistful eyes; and Mr. Osmond went on irrelevantly, addressing himself to
his other companion. "You're looking particularly well."

"I think I always look the same," said Madame Merle.

"You always ARE the same. You don't vary. You're a wonderful woman."

"Yes, I think I am."

"You sometimes change your mind, however. You told me on your return
from England that you wouldn't leave Rome again for the present."

"I'm pleased that you remember so well what I say. T