e've heard so much
of him of late."

Madame Merle bent her head on one side a little, protestingly, and
smiled at the left corner of her mouth. "You've heard, yes. But you must
remember that I've not, in Naples. I hoped to find him here and to be
able to congratulate Pansy."

"You may congratulate Pansy still; but not on marrying Lord Warburton."

"How you say that! Don't you know I had set my heart on it?" Madame
Merle asked with a great deal of spirit, but still with the intonation
of good-humour.

Isabel was discomposed, but she was determined to be good-humoured too.
"You shouldn't have gone to Naples then. You should have stayed here to
watch the affair."

"I had too much confidence in you. But do you think it's too late?"

"You had better ask Pansy," said Isabel.

"I shall ask her what you've said to her."

These words seemed to justify the impulse of self-defence aroused
on Isabel's part by her perceiving that her visitor's attitude was a
critical one. Madame Merle, as we know, had been very discreet hitherto;
she had never criticised; she had been markedly afraid of intermeddling.
But apparently she had only reserved herself for this occasion, since
she now had a dangerous quickness in her eye and an air of irritation
which even her admirable ease was not able to transmute. She had
suffered a disappointment which excited Isabel's surprise--our heroine
having no knowledge of her zealous interest in Pansy's marriage; and
she betrayed it in a manner which quickened Mrs. Osmond's alarm. More
clearly than ever before Isabel heard a cold, mocking voice proceed from
she knew not where, in the dim void that surrounded her, and declare
that this bright, strong, definite, worldly woman, this incarnation of
the practical, the personal, the immediate, was a powerful agent in her
destiny. She was nearer to her than Isabel had yet discovered, and her
nearness was not the charming accident she had so long supposed. The
sense of accident indeed had died within her that day when she happened
to be struck with the manner in which the wonderful lady and her own
husband sat together in private. No definite suspicion had as yet
taken its place; but it was enough to make her view this friend with a
different eye, to have been led to reflect that there was more intention
in her past behaviour than she had allowed for at the time. Ah yes,
there had been intention, there had been intention, Isabel said to
herself; and she seem