Page 116 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

person require more or less pluck. Do you suppose she’ll
interview me?’
‘Never in the world. She’ll not think you of enough im-
portance.’
‘You’ll see,’ said Ralph. ‘She’ll send a description of us all,
including Bunchie, to her newspaper.’
‘I shall ask her not to,’ Isabel answered.
‘You think she’s capable of it then?’
‘Perfectly.’
‘And yet you’ve made her your bosom-friend?’
‘I’ve not made her my bosom-friend; but I like her in
spite of her faults.’
‘Ah well,’ said Ralph, ‘I’m afraid I shall dislike her in spite
of her merits.’
‘You’ll probably fall in love with her at the end of three
days.’
‘And have my love-letters published in the Interviewer?
Never!’ cried the young man.
The train presently arrived, and Miss Stackpole, promptly
descending, proved, as Isabel had promised, quite delicately,
even though rather provincially, fair. She was a neat, plump
person, of medium stature, with a round face, a small mouth,
a delicate complexion, a bunch of light brown ringlets at the
back of her head and a peculiarly open, surprised-looking
eye. The most striking point in her appearance was the re-
markable fixedness of this organ, which rested without
impudence or defiance, but as if in conscientious exercise of
a natural right, upon every object it happened to encounter.
It rested in this manner upon Ralph himself, a little arrest-

116 The Portrait of a Lady