"Oh no," said Caspar Goodwood simply; "I didn't want to do that.
She'll hear it quick enough; she hears everything."
"I shall write to her, and then she'll write to me and scold me,"
Isabel declared, trying to smile again.
Caspar, however, remained sternly grave. "I guess she'll come
right out," he said.
"On purpose to scold me?"
"I don't know. She seemed to think she had not seen Europe
thoroughly."
"I'm glad you tell me that," Isabel said. "I must prepare for her."
Mr. Goodwood fixed his eyes for a moment on the floor; then at last,
raising them, "Does she know Mr. Osmond?" he enquired.
"A little. And she doesn't like him. But of course I don't marry
to please Henrietta," she added. It would have been better for poor
Caspar if she had tried a little more to gratify Miss Stackpole; but
he didn't say so; he only asked, presently, when her marriage would
take place. To which she made answer that she didn't know yet. "I
can only say it will be soon. I've told no one but yourself and one
other person-an old friend of Mr. Osmond's."
"Is it a marriage your friends won't like?" he demanded.
"I really haven't an idea.
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