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Isabel turned about again. ‘If you mean that I had any
idea with regard to Mr. Goodwood-!’ But she faltered before
her friend’s implacable glitter.
‘My dear child, you certainly encouraged him.’
Isabel made for the moment as if to deny this charge; in-
stead of which, however, she presently answered: ‘It’s very
true. I did encourage him.’ And then she asked if her com-
panion had learned from Mr. Goodwood what he intended
to do. It was a concession to her curiosity, for she disliked
discussing the subject and found Henrietta wanting in deli-
cacy.
‘I asked him, and he said he meant to do nothing,’ Miss
Stackpole answered. ‘But I don’t believe that; he’s not a man
to do nothing. He is a man of high, bold action. Whatever
happens to him he’ll always do something, and whatever he
does will always be right.’
‘I quite believe that.’ Henrietta might be wanting in
delicacy, but it touched the girl, all the same, to hear this
declaration.
‘Ah, you do care for him!’ her visitor rang out.
‘Whatever he does will always be right,’ Isabel repeated.
‘When a man’s of that infallible mould what does it matter
to him what one feels?’
‘It may not matter to him, but it matters to one’s self.’
‘Ah, what it matters to me—that’s not what we’re discuss-
ing,’ said Isabel with a cold smile.
This time her companion was grave. ‘Well, I don’t care;
you have changed. You’re not the girl you were a few short
weeks ago, and Mr. Goodwood will see it. I expect him here

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