It seemed deeper than the mere death
of a cousin, and the Countess had no hesitation in connecting her
exasperating brother with the expression of her sister-in-law's
eyes. Her heart beat with an almost joyous expectation, for if she had
wished to see Osmond overtopped the conditions looked favourable
now. Of course if Isabel should go to England she herself would
immediately leave Palazzo Roccanera; nothing would induce her to
remain there with Osmond. Nevertheless she felt an immense desire to
hear that Isabel would go to England.
"Nothing's impossible for you, my dear," she said caressingly.
"Why else are you rich and clever and good?"
"Why indeed? I feel stupidly weak."
"Why does Osmond say it's impossible?" the Countess asked in a
tone which sufficiently declared that she couldn't imagine.
From the moment she thus began to question her, however, Isabel drew
back; she disengaged her hand, which the Countess had affectionately
taken. But she answered this enquiry with frank bitterness. "Because
we're so happy together that we can't separate even for a fortnight."
"Ah," cried the Countess while Isabel turned away, "when I want to
make a journey my husband simply tells me I can have no money!"
Isabel went to her room, where she walked up and down for an hour.
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