Page 745 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

of the head which she had some weeks before perceived to
be characteristic of baffled but indestructible purpose. Such
an attitude, today, could belong only to Mr. Edward Rosier;
and this gentleman proved in fact to have been considering
the question of speaking to her. When he had assured him-
self that she was unaccompanied he drew near, remarking
that though she would not answer his letters she would per-
haps not wholly close her ears to his spoken eloquence. She
replied that her stepdaughter was close at hand and that she
could only give him five minutes; whereupon he took out his
watch and sat down upon a broken block.
‘It’s very soon told,’ said Edward Rosier. ‘I’ve sold all my
bibelots!’ Isabel gave instinctively an exclamation of horror;
it was as if he had told her he had had all his teeth drawn.
‘I’ve sold them by auction at the Hotel Drouot,’ he went on.
‘The sale took place three days ago, and they’ve telegraphed
me the result. It’s magnificent.’
‘I’m glad to hear it; but I wish you had kept your pretty
things.’
‘I have the money instead-fifty thousand dollars. Will Mr.
Osmond think me rich enough now?’
‘Is it for that you did it?’ Isabel asked gently.
‘For what else in the world could it be? That’s the only
thing I think of. I went to Paris and made my arrangements.
I couldn’t stop for the sale; I couldn’t have seen them going
off; I think it would have killed me. But I put them into good
hands, and they brought high prices. I should tell you I have
kept my enamels. Now I have the money in my pocket, and
he can’t say I’m poor!’ the young man exclaimed defiantly.

745