Page 598 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

It was as thin as a hair, but there were moments when she
seemed to hear it vibrate. For herself nothing was changed;
what she once thought of him she always thought; it was
needless this feeling should change; it seemed to her in fact
a better feeling than ever. But he? had he still the idea that
she might be more to him than other women? Had he the
wish to profit by the memory of the few moments of inti-
macy through which they had once passed? Isabel knew she
had read some of the signs of such a disposition. But what
were his hopes, his pretensions, and in what strange way
were they mingled with his evidently very sincere apprecia-
tion of poor Pansy? Was he in love with Gilbert Osmond’s
wife, and if so what comfort did he expect to derive from
it? If he was in love with Pansy he was not in love with her
stepmother, and if he was in love with her stepmother he
was not in love with Pansy. Was she to cultivate the advan-
tage she possessed in order to make him commit himself
to Pansy, knowing he would do so for her sake and not for
the small creature’s own-was this the service her husband
had asked of her? This at any rate was the duty with which
she found herself confronted-from the moment she admit-
ted to herself that her old friend had still an uneradicated
predilection for her society. It was not an agreeable task; it
was in fact a repulsive one. She asked herself with dismay
whether Lord Warburton were pretending to be in love with
Pansy in order to cultivate another satisfaction and what
might be called other chances. Of this refinement of duplic-
ity she presently acquitted him; she preferred to believe him
in perfect good faith. But if his admiration for Pansy were

598 The Portrait of a Lady