Page 620 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

Isabel saw Lord Warburton advancing through the crowd.
He presently drew near and bade her good-evening; she had
not seen him since the day before. He looked about him,
and then ‘Where’s the little maid?’ he asked. It was in this
manner that he had formed the harmless habit of alluding
to Miss Osmond.
‘She’s dancing,’ said Isabel. ‘You’ll see her somewhere.’
He looked among the dancers and at last caught Pan-
sy’s eye. ‘She sees me, but she won’t notice me,’ he then
remarked. ‘Are you not dancing?’
‘As you see, I’m a wall-flower.’
‘Won’t you dance with me?’
‘Thank you; I’d rather you should dance with the little
maid.’
‘One needn’t prevent the other-especially as she’s en-
gaged.’
‘She’s not engaged for everything, and you can reserve
yourself. She dances very hard, and you’ll be the fresher.’
‘She dances beautifully,’ said Lord Warburton, following
her with his eyes. ‘Ah, at last,’ he added, ‘she has given me
a smile.’ He stood there with his handsome, easy, impor-
tant physiognomy; and as Isabel observed him it came over
her, as it had done before, that it was strange a man of his
mettle should take an interest in a little maid. It struck her
as a great incongruity; neither Pansy’s small fascinations,
nor his own kindness, his good-nature, not even his need
for amusement, which was extreme and constant, were suf-
ficient to account for it. ‘I should like to dance with you,’ he
went on in a moment, turning back to Isabel; ‘but I think I

620 The Portrait of a Lady