Page 642 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

‘So I’m told; I don’t know the details,’ said the Countess
lightly. ‘But Isabel’s pretty safe.’
Henrietta gazed earnestly at her companion; for a mo-
ment she said nothing. ‘When do you go to Rome?’ she
enquired abruptly.
‘Not for a week, I’m afraid.’
‘I shall go to-morrow,’ Henrietta said. ‘I think I had bet-
ter not wait.’
‘Dear me, I’m sorry; I’m having some dresses made. I’m
told Isabel receives immensely. But I shall see you there; I
shall call on you at your pension.’ Henrietta sat still-she was
lost in thought; and suddenly the Countess cried: ‘Ah, but if
you don’t go with me you can’t describe our journey!’
Miss Stackpole seemed unmoved by this consideration;
she was thinking of something else and presently expressed
it. ‘I’m not sure that I understand you about Lord Warbur-
ton.’
‘Understand me? I mean he’s very nice, that’s all.’
‘Do you consider it nice to make love to married wom-
en?’ Henrietta enquired with unprecedented distinctness.
The Countess stared, and then with a little violent laugh:
‘It’s certain all the nice men do it. Get married and you’ll
see!’ she added.
‘That idea would be enough to prevent me,’ said Miss
Stackpole. ‘I should want my own husband; I shouldn’t want
any one else’s. Do you mean that Isabel’s guilty-guilty-?’
And she paused a little, choosing her expression.
‘Do I mean she’s guilty? Oh dear no, not yet, I hope. I
only mean that Osmond’s very tiresome and that Lord

642 The Portrait of a Lady