he
merit--for Pansy--of being in love with Pansy. She can see at a glance
that Lord Warburton isn't."

"He'd be very good to her," said Ralph.

"He has been good to her already. Fortunately, however, he has not said
a word to disturb her. He could come and bid her good-bye to-morrow with
perfect propriety."

"How would your husband like that?"

"Not at all; and he may be right in not liking it. Only he must obtain
satisfaction himself."

"Has he commissioned you to obtain it?" Ralph ventured to ask.

"It was natural that as an old friend of Lord Warburton's--an older
friend, that is, than Gilbert--I should take an interest in his
intentions."

"Take an interest in his renouncing them, you mean?"

Isabel hesitated, frowning a little. "Let me understand. Are you
pleading his cause?"

"Not in the least. I'm very glad he shouldn't become your stepdaughter's
husband. It makes such a very queer relation to you!" said Ralph,
smiling. "But I'm rather nervous lest your husband should think you
haven't pushed him enough."

Isabel found herself able to smile as well as he. "He knows me well
enough not to have expected me to push. He himself has no intention
of pushing, I presume. I'm not afraid I shall not be able to justify
myself!" she said lightly.

Her mask had dropped for an instant, but she had put it on again, to
Ralph's infinite disappointment. He had caught a glimpse of her natural
face and he wished immensely to look into it. He had an almost savage
desire to hear her complain of her husband--hear her say that she should
be held accountable for Lord Warburton's defection. Ralph was certain
that this was her situation; he knew by instinct, in advance, the form
that in such an event Osmond's displeasure would take. It could only
take the meanest and cruellest. He would have liked to warn Isabel of
it--to let her see at least how he judged for her and how he knew. It
little mattered that Isabel would know much better; it was for his own
satisfaction more than for hers that he longed to show her he was not
deceived. He tried and tried again to make her betray Osmond; he felt
cold-blooded, cruel, dishonourable almost, in doing so. But it scarcely
mattered, for he only failed. What had she come for then, and why did
she seem almost to offer him a chance to violate their tacit convention?
Why did she ask him his advice if she gave him no liberty to answer her?
How could they talk of her domestic embarrassments, a