But as in this latter case she would (for very solemnity's
sake) never have mentioned the awful phenomenon, so she put away all
knowledge of the secrets of larger lives than her own. "You'll be very
far away," she presently went on.
"Yes; I shall be far away. But it will scarcely matter," Isabel
explained; "since so long as you're here I can't be called near you."
"Yes, but you can come and see me; though you've not come very
often."
"I've not come because your father forbade it. To-day I bring
nothing with me. I can't amuse you."
"I'm not to be amused. That's not what papa wishes."
"Then it hardly matters whether I'm in Rome or in England."
"You're not happy, Mrs. Osmond," said Pansy.
"Not very. But it doesn't matter."
"That's what I say to myself. What does it matter? But I should like
to come out."
"I wish indeed you might."
"Don't leave me here," Pansy went on gently.
Isabel said nothing for a minute; her heart beat fast. "Will you
come away with me now?" she asked.
Pansy looked at her pleadingly. "Did papa tell you to bring me?"
"No; it's my own proposal."
"I think I had better wait then.
Pages:
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977