278 THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. Isabel gratified this respectful wish, drew off her gloves, and sat down to the piano, while Pansy, standing beside her, watched her white hands move quickly over the keys. When she stopped, she kissed the child good-bye, and held her a moment, looking at her. " Be a good child," she said ; " give pleasure to your father." " I think that is what I live for," Pansy answered. " He has not much pleasure ; he is rather a sad man." Isabel listened to this assertion with an interest which she felt it to be almost a torment that she was obliged to conceal from the child. It was her pride that obliged her, and a certain sense of decency ; there Vere still other things in her head which she felt a strong impulse, instantly checked, to say to Pansy about her father ; there were things it would have given her pleasure to hear the child, to make the child, say. But she no sooner became conscious of these things than her imagination was hushed with horror at the idea of taking advantage of the little girl it was of this she would have accused herself and of leaving an audible trace of her emotion behind. She had come she had come ; but she had stayed only an hour ! She rose quickly from the music-stool; even then, however, she lingered a moment, still holding her small companion, drawing the child's little tender person closer, and looking down at her. She was obliged to confess it to herself she would have taken a passionate pleasure in talking about Gilbert Osmond to this innocent, diminutive creature who was near to him. But she said not another word ; she only kissed Pansy once more. They went together through the vestibule, to the door which opened into the court ; and there Pansy stopped, looking rather wistfully beyond. " I may go no further," she said. " I have promised papa not to go out of this door." " You are right to obey him ; he will never ask you anything unreasonable." " I shall always obey him. But when will you come again 1 " " Not for a long time, I am afraid." " As soon as you can, I hope. I am only a little girl," said Pansy, " but I shall always expect you." And the small figure stood in the high, dark doorway, watch- ing Isabel cross the clear, grey court, and disappear into the brightness beyond the big portone, which gave a wider gleam as it opened.
