Page 622 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

talked to her, advised her, helped her to develop.’
‘Ah yes, if she isn’t the rose she has lived near it.’
She laughed, and her companion did as much; but there
was a certain visible preoccupation in his face which inter-
fered with complete hilarity. ‘We all try to live as near it as
we can,’ he said after a moment’s hesitation.
Isabel turned away; Pansy was about to be restored to
her, and she welcomed the diversion. We know how much
she liked Lord Warburton; she thought him pleasanter even
than the sum of his merits warranted; there was something
in his friendship that appeared a kind of resource in case
of indefinite need; it was like having a large balance at the
bank. She felt happier when he was in the room; there was
something reassuring in his approach; the sound of his voice
reminded her of the beneficence of nature. Yet for all that it
didn’t suit her that he should be too near her, that he should
take too much of her good-will for granted. She was afraid
of that; she averted herself from it; she wished he wouldn’t.
She felt that if he should come too near, as it were, it might
be in her to flash out and bid him keep his distance. Pansy
came back to Isabel with another rent in her skirt, which
was the inevitable consequence of the first and which she
displayed to Isabel with serious eyes. There were too many
gentlemen in uniform; they wore those dreadful spurs,
which were fatal to the dresses of little maids. It hereupon
became apparent that the resources of women are innumer-
able. Isabel devoted herself to Pansy’s desecrated drapery;
she fumbled for a pin and repaired the injury; she smiled
and listened to her account of her adventures. Her atten-

622 The Portrait of a Lady