Page 559 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

If Ralph had been kept alive by suspense it was with a good
deal of the same emotion-the excitement of wondering in
what state she should find him-that Isabel mounted to his
apartment the day after Lord Warburton had notified her of
his arrival in Rome.
She spent an hour with him; it was the first of several vis-
its. Gilbert Osmond called on him punctually, and on their
sending their carriage for him Ralph came more than once
to Palazzo Roccanera. A fortnight elapsed, at the end of
which Ralph announced to Lord Warburton that he thought
after all he wouldn’t go to Sicily. The two men had been din-
ing together after a day spent by the latter in ranging about
the Campagna. They had left the table, and Warburton, be-
fore the chimney, was lighting a cigar, which he instantly
removed from his lips.
‘Won’t go to Sicily? Where then will you go?’
‘Well, I guess I won’t go anywhere,’ said Ralph, from the
sofa, all shamelessly.
‘Do you mean you’ll return to England?’
‘Oh dear no; I’ll stay in Rome.’
‘Rome won’t do for you. Rome’s not warm enough.’
‘It will have to do. I’ll make it do. See how well I’ve
been.’
Lord Warburton looked at him a while, puffing a cigar
and as if trying to see it. ‘You’ve been better than you were
on the journey, certainly. I wonder how you lived through
that. But I don’t understand your condition. I recommend
you to try Sicily.’
‘I can’t try,’ said poor Ralph. ‘I’ve done trying. I can’t

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