Of old she had been
curious, and now she was indifferent, and yet in spite of her
indifference her activity was greater than ever. Slender still, but
lovelier than before, she had gained no great maturity of aspect;
yet there was an amplitude and a brilliancy in her personal
arrangements that gave a touch of insolence to her beauty. Poor
human-hearted Isabel, what perversity had bitten her? Her light step
drew a mas of drapery behind it; her intelligent head sustained a
majesty of ornament. The free, keen girl had become quite another
person; what he saw was the fine lady who was supposed to represent
something. What did Isabel represent? Ralph asked himself; and he
could only answer by saying that she represented Gilbert Osmond. "Good
heavens, what a function!" he then woefully exclaimed. He was lost
in wonder at the mystery of things.
He recognized Osmond, as I say; he recognized him at every turn.
He saw how he kept all things within limits; how he adjusted,
regulated, animated their manner of life. Osmond was in his element;
at last he had material to work with. He always had an eye to
effect, and his effects were deeply calculated.
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