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of you to come to-dayso far from your house; for Im really as yet only a child. Oh, yes, Ive only the occupations of a child. When did you give them up, the occupations of a child? I should like to know how old you are, but I dont know whether its right to ask. At the convent they told us that we must never ask the age. I dont like to do anything thats not expected; it looks as if one had not been properly taught. I myselfI should never like to be taken by surprise. Papa left directions for everything. I go to bed very early. When the sun goes off that side I go into the garden. Papa left strict orders that I was not to get scorched. I always enjoy the view; the mountains are so graceful. In Rome, from the convent, we saw nothing but roofs and bell-towers. I practise three hours. I dont play very well. You play yourself? I wish very much youd play something for me; papa has the idea that I should hear good music. Madame Merle has played for me several times; thats what I like best about Madame Merle; she has great facility. I shall never have facility. And Ive no voicejust a small sound like the squeak of a slate-pencil making flourishes. Isabel gratified this respectful wish, drew off her gloves and sat down to the piano, while Pansy, standing beside her, watched her white hands move quickly over the keys. When she stopped she kissed the child good-bye, held her close, looked at her long. Be very good, she said; give pleasure to your father. I think thats what I live for, Pansy answered. He has not much pleasure; hes rather a sad man. Isabel listened to this assertion with an interest which she felt it almost a torment to be obliged to conceal. It was her pride that obliged her, and a certain sense of decency; there were still other things in her head which she felt a strong impulse, instantly checked, to say to Pansy about her father; there were things it would have given her pleasure to hear the child, to make the child, say. But she no sooner became conscious of these things than her imagination was hushed with horror at the idea of taking advantage of the little girlit was of this she would have accused herselfand of exhaling into that air where he might still have a subtle sense for it any breath of her charmed state. She had comeshe had come; but she had stayed only an hour. She rose quickly from the music-stool; even then, however, she lingered a moment, still holding her small companion, drawing the childs sweet slimness closer and looking down at her almost in envy. She was obliged to confess it to herselfshe would have taken a passionate pleasure in talking of Gilbert Osmond to this innocent, diminutive creature who was so near him. But she said no other word; she only kissed Pansy once again. They went together through the vestibule, to the door that opened on the court; and there her young hostess stopped, looking rather wistfully beyond. I may go no further. Ive promised papa not to pass this door. Youre right to obey him, hell never ask you anything unreasonable. I shall always obey him. But when will you come again? Not for a long time, Im afraid. As soon as you can, I hope. Im only a little girl, said Pansy, but I shall always expect you. And the small figure stood in the high, dark doorway, watching Isabel cross the clear, grey court and disappear into the brightness beyond the big portone,5 which gave a wider dazzle as it opened. |
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