"
"Did he tell you so?"
"No, he told me nothing; that's how I knew it," said Henrietta
cleverly. "He said very little about you, but I spoke of you a good
deal."
Isabel waited. At the mention of Mr. Goodwood's name she had
turned a little pale. "I'm very sorry you did that," she observed at
last.
"It was a pleasure to me, and I liked the way he listened. I could
have talked a long time to such a listener; he was so quiet, so
intense; he drank it all in."
"What did you say about me?" Isabel asked.
"I said you were on the whole the finest creature I know."
"I'm very sorry for that. He thinks too well of me already; he
oughtn't to be encouraged."
"He's dying for a little encouragement. I see his face now, and
his earnest absorbed look while I talked. I never saw an ugly man look
so handsome."
"He's very simple-minded," said Isabel. "And he's not so ugly."
"There's nothing so simplifying as a grand passion."
"It's not a grand passion; I'm very sure it's not that."
"You don't say that as if you were sure."
Isabel gave rather a cold smile. "I shall say it better to Mr.
Goodwood himself."
"He'll soon give you a chance," said Henrietta.
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