bad; the women look like laundresses and sing like
peacocks. I feel very low."

"You had better go home," Lord Warburton said without affectation.

"And leave my young lady in this sad place? Ah no, I must watch over
her."

"She seems to have plenty of friends."

"Yes, that's why I must watch," said Ralph with the same large
mock-melancholy.

"If she doesn't want you it's probable she doesn't want me."

"No, you're different. Go to the box and stay there while I walk about."

Lord Warburton went to the box, where Isabel's welcome was as to a
friend so honourably old that he vaguely asked himself what queer
temporal province she was annexing. He exchanged greetings with Mr.
Osmond, to whom he had been introduced the day before and who, after he
came in, sat blandly apart and silent, as if repudiating competence in
the subjects of allusion now probable. It struck her second visitor
that Miss Archer had, in operatic conditions, a radiance, even a
slight exaltation; as she was, however, at all times a keenly-glancing,
quickly-moving, completely animated young woman, he may have been
mistaken on this point. Her talk with him moreover pointed to presence
of mind; it expressed a kindness so ingenious and deliberate as to
indicate that she was in undisturbed possession of her faculties. Poor
Lord Warburton had moments of bewilderment. She had discouraged him,
formally, as much as a woman could; what business had she then with
such arts and such felicities, above all with such tones of
reparation--preparation? Her voice had tricks of sweetness, but why play
them on HIM? The others came back; the bare, familiar, trivial opera
began again. The box was large, and there was room for him to remain
if he would sit a little behind and in the dark. He did so for half an
hour, while Mr. Osmond remained in front, leaning forward, his elbows
on his knees, just behind Isabel. Lord Warburton heard nothing, and from
his gloomy corner saw nothing but the clear profile of this young
lady defined against the dim illumination of the house. When there was
another interval no one moved. Mr. Osmond talked to Isabel, and Lord
Warburton kept his corner. He did so but for a short time, however;
after which he got up and bade good-night to the ladies. Isabel said
nothing to detain him, but it didn't prevent his being puzzled again.
Why should she mark so one of his values--quite the wrong one--when she
would have nothing to do with another, whi