ourself that I should talk of him so quietly and
coldly, as if he were any one else. I wouldn't talk of him at all to any
one but you; and you, after what you've said--I may just answer you once
for all. Pray, would you wish me to make a mercenary marriage--what
they call a marriage of ambition? I've only one ambition--to be free to
follow out a good feeling. I had others once, but they've passed away.
Do you complain of Mr. Osmond because he's not rich? That's just what I
like him for. I've fortunately money enough; I've never felt so thankful
for it as to-day. There have been moments when I should like to go and
kneel down by your father's grave: he did perhaps a better thing than
he knew when he put it into my power to marry a poor man--a man who has
borne his poverty with such dignity, with such indifference. Mr. Osmond
has never scrambled nor struggled--he has cared for no worldly prize. If
that's to be narrow, if that's to be selfish, then it's very well. I'm
not frightened by such words, I'm not even displeased; I'm only sorry
that you should make a mistake. Others might have done so, but I'm
surprised that you should. You might know a gentleman when you see
one--you might know a fine mind. Mr. Osmond makes no mistakes! He knows
everything, he understands everything, he has the kindest, gentlest,
highest spirit. You've got hold of some false idea. It's a pity, but
I can't help it; it regards you more than me." Isabel paused a moment,
looking at her cousin with an eye illumined by a sentiment which
contradicted the careful calmness of her manner--a mingled sentiment,
to which the angry pain excited by his words and the wounded pride of
having needed to justify a choice of which she felt only the nobleness
and purity, equally contributed. Though she paused Ralph said
nothing; he saw she had more to say. She was grand, but she was highly
solicitous; she was indifferent, but she was all in a passion. "What
sort of a person should you have liked me to marry?" she asked suddenly.
"You talk about one's soaring and sailing, but if one marries at all one
touches the earth. One has human feelings and needs, one has a heart in
one's bosom, and one must marry a particular individual. Your mother
has never forgiven me for not having come to a better understanding
with Lord Warburton, and she's horrified at my contenting myself with a
person who has none of his great advantages--no property, no title,
no honours, no houses, nor