"
"I hope he'll hate me then," said Isabel.
"I believe you hope it about as much as I believe him capable of
it."
To this observation our heroine made no return; she was absorbed
in the alarm given her by Henrietta's intimation that Caspar
Goodwood would present himself at Gardencourt. She pretended to
herself, however, that she thought the event impossible, and, later,
she communicated her disbelief to her friend. For the next forty-eight
hours, nevertheless, she stood prepared to hear the young man's name
announced. The feeling pressed upon her; it made the air sultry, as if
there were to be a change of weather; and the weather, socially
speaking, had been so agreeable during Isabel's stay at Gardencourt
that any change would be for the worse. Her suspense indeed was
dissipated the second day. She had walked into the park in company
with the sociable Bunchie, and after strolling about for some time, in
a manner at once listless and restless, had seated herself on a garden
bench, within sight of the house, beneath a spreading beech, where, in
a white dress ornamented with black ribbons, she formed among the
flickering shadows a graceful and harmonious image.
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