Page 674 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

that one had to say something. Such a sense was upsetting;
it muddled one’s wits. He had it at present, and that was the
effect it produced on him. If Mrs. Osmond didn’t think he
spoke as he ought she must set it down to agitation; it was
no light thing to part with Mrs. Osmond. He was really very
sorry to be going. He had thought of writing to her instead
of calling-but he would write to her at any rate, to tell her a
lot of things that would be sure to occur to him as soon as
he had left the house. They must think seriously about com-
ing to Lockleigh.
If there was anything awkward in the conditions of his
visit or in the announcement of his departure it failed to
come to the surface. Lord Warburton talked about his agi-
tation; but he showed it in no other manner, and Isabel saw
that since he had determined on a retreat he was capable of
executing it gallantly. She was very glad for him; she liked
him quite well enough to wish him to appear to carry a
thing off. He would do that on any occasion-not from im-
pudence but simply from the habit of success; and Isabel
felt it out of her husband’s power to frustrate this faculty.
A complex operation, as she sat there, went on in her mind.
On one side she listened to their visitor; said what was prop-
er to him; read, more or less, between the lines of what he
said himself; and wondered how he would have spoken if
he had found her alone. On the other she had a perfect con-
sciousness of Osmond’s emotion. She felt almost sorry for
him; he was condemned to the sharp pain of loss without
the relief of cursing. He had had a great hope, and now, as
he saw it vanish into smoke, he was obliged to sit and smile

674 The Portrait of a Lady