Page 135 - the-portrait-of-a-lady
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betrayed it. ‘You don’t ask that right—as if you thought it im-
         portant. You’re changed—you’re thinking of other things.’
            ‘Tell me what you mean, and I’ll think of that.’
            ‘Will you really think of it? That’s what I wish to be sure
         of.’
            ‘I’ve  not  much  control  of  my  thoughts,  but  I’ll  do  my
         best,’ said Isabel. Henrietta gazed at her, in silence, for a pe-
         riod which tried Isabel’s patience, so that our heroine added
         at last: ‘Do you mean that you’re going to be married?’
            ‘Not till I’ve seen Europe!’ said Miss Stackpole. ‘What
         are you laughing at?’ she went on. ‘What I mean is that Mr.
         Goodwood came out in the steamer with me.’
            ‘Ah!’ Isabel responded.
            ‘You say that right. I had a good deal of talk with him; he
         has come after you.’
            ‘Did he tell you so?’
            ‘No, he told me nothing; that’s how I knew it,’ said Hen-
         rietta cleverly. ‘He said very little about you, but I spoke of
         you a good deal.’
            Isabel waited. At the mention of Mr. Goodwood’s name
         she had turned a little pale. ‘I’m very sorry you did that,’ she
         observed at last.
            ‘It was a pleasure to me, and I liked the way he listened.
         I could have talked a long time to such a listener; he was so
         quiet, so intense; he drank it all in.’
            ‘What did you say about me?’ Isabel asked.
            ‘I said you were on the whole the finest creature I know.’
            ‘I’m very sorry for that. He thinks too well of me already;
         he oughtn’t to be encouraged.’

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