‘He’s welcome to the comfort of it! My daughter has only to sit perfectly quiet to become Lady Warburton.’

‘Should you like that?’ Isabel asked with a simplicity which was not so affected as it may appear. She was resolved to assume nothing, for Osmond had a way of unexpectedly turning her assumptions against her. The intensity with which he would like his daughter to become Lady Warburton had been the very basis of her own recent reflections. But that was for herself; she would recognize nothing until Osmond should have put it into words; she would not take for granted with him that he thought Lord Warburton a prize worth an amount of effort that was unusual among the Osmonds. It was Gilbert’s constant intimation that for him nothing in life was a prize; that he treated as from equal to equal with the most distinguished people in the world, and that his daughter had only to look about her to pick out a prince. It cost him therefore a lapse from consistency to say explicitly that he yearned for Lord Warburton and that if this nobleman should escape his equivalent might not be found; with which moreover it was another of his customary implications that he was never inconsistent. He would have liked his wife to glide over the point. But strangely enough, now that she was face to face with him and although an hour before she had almost invented a scheme for pleasing him, Isabel was not accommodating, would not glide. And yet she knew exactly the effect on his mind of her question: it would operate as an humiliation. Never mind; he was terribly capable of humiliating her—all the more so that he was also capable of waiting for great opportunities and of showing sometimes an almost unaccountable indifference to small ones. Isabel perhaps took a small opportunity because she would not have availed herself of a great one.

Osmond at present acquitted himself very honourably. ‘I should like it extremely; it would be a great marriage. And then Lord Warburton has another advantage: he’s an old friend of yours. It would be pleasant for him to come into the family. It’s very odd Pansy’s admirers should all be your old friends.’

‘It’s natural that they should come to see me. In coming to see me they see Pansy. Seeing her it’s natural they should fall in love with her.’

‘So I think. But you’re not bound to do so.’

‘If she should marry Lord Warburton I should be very glad,’ Isabel went on frankly. ‘He’s an excellent man. You say, however, that she has only to sit perfectly still. Perhaps she won’t sit perfectly still. If she loses Mr Rosier she may jump up!’

Osmond appeared to give no heed to this; he sat gazing at the fire. ‘Pansy would like to be a great lady,’ he remarked in a moment with a certain tenderness of tone. ‘She wishes above all to please,’ he added.

‘To please Mr Rosier, perhaps.’

‘No, to please me.’

‘Me too a little, I think,’ said Isabel.

‘Yes, she has a great opinion of you. But she’ll do what I like.’

‘If you’re sure of that, it’s very well,’ she went on.

‘Meantime,’ said Osmond, ‘I should like our distinguished visitor to speak.’

‘He has spoken—to me. He has told me it would be a great pleasure to him to believe she could care for him.’

Osmond turned his head quickly, but at first he said nothing. Then, ‘Why didn’t you tell me that?’ he asked sharply.

‘There was no opportunity. You know how we live. I’ve taken the first chance that has offered.’