Page 136 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

‘He’s dying for a little encouragement. I see his face now,
and his earnest absorbed look while I talked. I never saw an
ugly man look so handsome.’
‘He’s very simple-minded,’ said Isabel. ‘And he’s not so
ugly.’
‘There’s nothing so simplifying as a grand passion.’
‘It’s not a grand passion; I’m very sure it’s not that.’
‘You don’t say that as if you were sure.’
Isabel gave rather a cold smile. ‘I shall say it better to Mr.
Goodwood himself.’
‘He’ll soon give you a chance,’ said Henrietta. Isabel
offered no answer to this assertion, which her compan-
ion made with an air of great confidence. ‘He’ll find you
changed,’ the latter pursued. ‘You’ve been affected by your
new surroundings.’
‘Very likely. I’m affected by everything.’
‘By everything but Mr. Goodwood!’ Miss Stackpole ex-
claimed with a slightly harsh hilarity.
Isabel failed even to smile back and in a moment she
said: ‘Did he ask you to speak to me?’
‘Not in so many words. But his eyes asked it—and his
handshake, when he bade me good-bye.’
‘Thank you for doing so.’ And Isabel turned away.
‘Yes, you’re changed; you’ve got new ideas over here,’ her
friend continued.
‘I hope so,’ said Isabel; ‘one should get as many new ideas
as possible.’
‘Yes; but they shouldn’t interfere with the old ones when
the old ones have been the right ones.’

136 The Portrait of a Lady