Page 628 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

more point, ‘Don’t you think we might sit here?’ he asked.
‘Wherever you please.’ The room was a sort of boudoir,
pervaded by a subdued, rose-coloured light; a lady and gen-
tleman moved out of it as our friends came in.
‘It’s very kind of you to take such an interest in Mr. Ros-
ier,’ Isabel said.
‘He seems to me rather ill-treated. He had a face a yard
long. I wondered what ailed him.’
‘You’re a just man,’ said Isabel. ‘You’ve a kind thought
even for a rival.’
Lord Warburton suddenly turned with a stare. ‘A rival!
Do you call him my rival?’
‘Surely-if you both wish to marry the same person.’
‘Yes-but since he has no chance!’
‘I like you, however that may be, for putting yourself in
his place. It shows imagination.’
‘You like me for it?’ And Lord Warburton looked at her
with an uncertain eye. ‘I think you mean you’re laughing at
me for it.’
‘Yes, I’m laughing at you a little. But I like you as some-
body to laugh at.’
‘Ah well, then, let me enter into his situation a little more.
What do you suppose one could do for him?’
‘Since I have been praising your imagination I’ll leave
you to imagine that yourself,’ Isabel said. ‘Pansy too would
like you for that.’
‘Miss Osmond? Ah, she, I flatter myself, likes me al-
ready.’
‘Very much, I think.’

628 The Portrait of a Lady