THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. 453 I know you will tell it if I ask you. It's an immense blessing with you, that one can count upon that. No, you won't believe what a comfort I take in it." " What truth do you speak of 1 ?" Isabel asked, wondering. " Just this : whether Lord "Wai-burton changed his mind quite of his own movement, or because you recommended it. To please himself, I mean ; or to please you. Think of the con- fidence I must still have in you, in spite of having lost a little of it," Madame Merle continued with a smile, " to ask such a question as that ! " She sat looking at Isabel a moment, to judge of the effect of her words, and then she went on " Now don't be heroic, don't be unreasonable, don't take offence. It seems to me I do you an honour in speaking so. I don't know another woman to whom I would do it. I haven't the least idea that any other woman would tell me the truth. And don't you see how well it is that your husband should know it 1 It is true that he doesn't appear to have had any tact whatever in trying to extract it ; he has indulged in gratuitous suppositions. But that doesn't alter the fact that it would make a difference in his view of his daughter's prospects to know distinctly what really occurred. If Lord Warburton simply got tired of the poor child, that's one thing ; it's a pity. If he gave her up to please you, it's another. That's a pity, too ; but in a different way. Then, in the latter case, you would perhaps resign yourself to not being pleased to simp]y seeing your step-daughter married. Let him off let us have him ! " Madame Merle had proceeded very deliberately, watching her companion and apparently thinking she could proceed safely. As she went on, Isabel grew pale ; she clasped her hands more tightly in her lap. It was not that Madame Merle had at last thought it the right time to be insolent ; for this was not what was most apparent. It was a worse horror than that. " Who are you what are you 1 " Isabel murmured. " What have you to do with my husband 1 " It was strange that, for the moment, she drew as near to him as if she had loved him. " Ah, then you take it heroically ! I am very sorry. Don't think, however, that I shall do so." " What have you to do with me ? " Isabel went on. Madame Merle slowly got up, stroking her muff, but not removing her eyes from Isabel's face. k< Everything ! " she answered. Isabel sat there looking up at her, without rising ; her face was almost a prayer to be enlightened. But the light of her visitor's eyes seemed only a darkness.
