pursuit of Pansy. He sought her, as
usual, in the neighbouring room, but he again encountered Mrs. Osmond
in his path. He gave his hostess no greeting--he was too righteously
indignant, but said to her crudely: "Your husband's awfully
cold-blooded."

She gave the same mystical smile he had noticed before. "You can't
expect every one to be as hot as yourself."

"I don't pretend to be cold, but I'm cool. What has he been doing to his
daughter?"

"I've no idea."

"Don't you take any interest?" Rosier demanded with his sense that she
too was irritating.

For a moment she answered nothing; then, "No!" she said abruptly and
with a quickened light in her eyes which directly contradicted the word.

"Pardon me if I don't believe that. Where's Miss Osmond?"

"In the corner, making tea. Please leave her there."

Rosier instantly discovered his friend, who had been hidden by
intervening groups. He watched her, but her own attention was entirely
given to her occupation. "What on earth has he done to her?" he asked
again imploringly. "He declares to me she has given me up."

"She has not given you up," Isabel said in a low tone and without
looking at him.

"Ah, thank you for that! Now I'll leave her alone as long as you think
proper!"

He had hardly spoken when he saw her change colour, and became aware
that Osmond was coming toward her accompanied by the gentleman who had
just entered. He judged the latter, in spite of the advantage of good
looks and evident social experience, a little embarrassed. "Isabel,"
said her husband, "I bring you an old friend."

Mrs. Osmond's face, though it wore a smile, was, like her old friend's,
not perfectly confident. "I'm very happy to see Lord Warburton," she
said. Rosier turned away and, now that his talk with her had been
interrupted, felt absolved from the little pledge he had just taken. He
had a quick impression that Mrs. Osmond wouldn't notice what he did.

Isabel in fact, to do him justice, for some time quite ceased to observe
him. She had been startled; she hardly knew if she felt a pleasure or
a pain. Lord Warburton, however, now that he was face to face with her,
was plainly quite sure of his own sense of the matter; though his grey
eyes had still their fine original property of keeping recognition and
attestation strictly sincere. He was "heavier" than of yore and looked
older; he stood there very solidly and sensibly.

"I suppose you didn't expect to see me," he said;