had always had a high standard of courtesy, and it was therefore not remarkable, under the circumstances, that he should have taken the trouble to come down from London to call on Mrs Touchett. It was of course Mrs Touchett he had come to see, and not Mrs Osmond; and to prove to herself the validity of this thesis Isabel presently stepped out of the house and wandered away into the park. Since her arrival at Gardencourt she had been but little out of doors, the weather being unfavourable for visiting the grounds. This evening, however, was fine, and at first it struck her as a happy thought to have come out. The theory I have just mentioned was plausible enough, but it brought her little rest, and if you had seen her pacing about you would have said she had a bad conscience. She was not pacified when at the end of a quarter of an hour, finding herself in view of the house, she saw Mrs Touchett emerge from the portico accompanied by her visitor. Her aunt had evidently proposed to Lord Warburton that they should come in search of her. She was in no humour for visitors and, if she had had a chance, would have drawn back behind one of the great trees. But she saw she had been seen and that nothing was left her but to advance. As the lawn at Gardencourt was a vast expanse this took some time; during which she observed that, as he walked beside his hostess, Lord Warburton kept his hands rather stiffly behind him and his eyes upon the ground. Both persons apparently were silent; but Mrs Touchett’s thin little glance, as she directed it toward Isabel, had even at a distance an expression. It seemed to say with cutting sharpness: ‘Here’s the eminently amenable nobleman you might have married!’ When Lord Warburton lifted his own eyes, however, that was not what they said. They only said ‘This is rather awkward, you know, and I depend upon you to help me.’ He was very grave, very proper and, for the first time since Isabel had known him, greeted her without a smile. Even in his days of distress he had always begun with a smile. He looked extremely self-conscious.

‘Lord Warburton has been so good as to come out to see me,’ said Mrs Touchett. ‘He tells me he didn’t know you were still here. I know he’s an old friend of yours, and as I was told you were not in the house I brought him out to see for himself.’

‘Oh, I saw there was a good train at 6.40, that would get me back in time for dinner,’ Mrs Touchett’s companion rather irrelevantly explained. ‘I’m so glad to find you’ve not gone.’

‘I’m not here for long, you know,’ Isabel said with a certain eagerness.

‘I suppose not; but I hope it’s for some weeks. You came to England sooner than—a—than you thought?’

‘Yes, I came very suddenly.’

Mrs Touchett turned away as if she were looking at the condition of the grounds, which indeed was not what it should be, while Lord Warburton hesitated a little. Isabel fancied he had been on the point of asking about her husband—rather confusedly—and then had checked himself. He continued immitigably grave, either because he thought it becoming in a place over which death had just passed, or for more personal reasons. If he was conscious of personal reasons it was very fortunate that he had the cover of the former motive; he could make the most of that. Isabel thought of all this. It was not that his face was sad, for that was another matter; but it was strangely inexpressive.

‘My sisters would have been so glad to come if they had known you were still here—if they had thought you would see them,’ Lord Warburton went on. ‘Do kindly let them see you before you leave England.’

‘It would give me great pleasure; I have such a friendly recollection of them.’

‘I don’t know whether you would come to Lockleigh for a day or two? You know there’s always that old promise.’ And his lordship coloured a little as he made this suggestion, which gave his face a somewhat more familiar air. ‘Perhaps I’m not right in saying that just now; of course you’re not thinking of visiting. But I meant what would hardly be a visit. My sisters are to be at Lockleigh at Whitsuntide for five days; and if you could come then—as you say you’re not to be very long in England—I would see that there should be literally no one else.’


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