She had only to close her eyes to see the
place, to hear his voice, to feel the warm, sweet air. How could he
have known? What a mystery, what a wonder of wisdom! As intelligent as
Gilbert? He was much more intelligent-to arrive at such a judgement as
that. Gilbert had never been so deep, so just. She had told him then
that from her at least he should never know if he was right; and
this was what she was taking care had now. It gave her plenty to do;
there was passion, exaltation, religion in it. Women find their
religion sometimes in strange exercises, and Isabel at present, in
playing a part before her cousin, had an idea that she was doing him a
kindness. It would have been a kindness perhaps if he had been for a
single instant a dupe. As it was, the kindness consisted mainly in
trying to make him believe that he had once wounded her greatly and
that the event had put him to shame, but that, as she was very
generous and he was so ill, she bore him no grudge and even
considerately forbore to flaunt her happiness in his face. Ralph
smiled to himself, as he lay on his sofa, at this extraordinary form
of consideration; but he forgave her for having forgiven him.
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