"You're laughing at some one, but this time I don't think it's at me.""I didn't mean to laugh," said Isabel."I laugh very seldom.Now you had better go away.""I feel very safe!" Rosier declared without moving.This might be;but it evidently made him feel more so to make the announcement in rather a loud voice, balancing himself a little complacently on his toes and looking all round the Coliseum as if it were filled with an audience.Suddenly Isabel saw him change colour; there was more of an audience than he had suspected.She turned and perceived that her two companions had returned from their excursion."You must really go away," she said quickly.
"Ah, my dear lady, pity me!" Edward Rosier murmured in a voice strangely at variance with the announcement I have just quoted.And then he added eagerly, like a man who in the midst of his misery is seized by a happy thought: "Is that lady the Countess Gemini? I've a great desire to be presented to her."Isabel looked at him a moment."She has no influence with her brother.""Ah, what a monster you make him out!" And Rosier faced the Countess, who advanced, in front of Pansy, with an animation partly due perhaps to the fact that she perceived her sister-in-law to be engaged in conversation with a very pretty young man.
"I'm glad you've kept your enamels!" Isabel called as she left him.She went straight to Pansy, who, on seeing Edward Rosier, had stopped short, with lowered eyes."We'll go back to the carriage," she said gently.
"Yes, it's getting late," Pansy returned more gently still.And she went on without a murmur, without faltering or glancing back.
Isabel, however, allowing herself this last liberty, saw that a meeting had immediately taken place between the Countess and Mr.
Rosier.He had removed his hat and was bowing and smiling; he had evidently introduced himself, while the Countess's expressive back displayed to Isabel's eye a gracious inclination.These facts, none the less, were presently lost to sight, for Isabel and Pansy took their places again in the carriage.Pansy, who faced her stepmother, at first kept her eyes fixed on her lap; then she raised them and rested them on Isabel's.There shone out of each of them a little melancholy ray-a spark of timid passion which touched Isabel to the heart.At the same time a wave of envy passed over her soul, as she compared the tremulous longing, the definite ideal of the child with her own dry despair."Poor little Pansy!" she affectionately said.
"Oh never mind!" Pansy answered in the tone of eager apology.
And then there was a silence; the Countess was a long time coming.
"Did you show your aunt everything, and did she enjoy it?" Isabel asked at last.
"Yes, I showed her everything.I think she was very much pleased.""And you're not tired, I hope."
"Oh no, thank you, I'm not tired."
The Countess still remained behind, so that Isabel requested the footman to go into the Coliseum and tell her they were waiting.He presently returned with the announcement that the Signora Contessa begged them not to wait-she would come home in a cab!"About a week after this lady's quick sympathies had enlisted themselves with Mr.Rosier, Isabel, going rather late to dress for dinner, found Pansy sitting in her room.The girl seemed to have been awaiting her; she got up from her low chair."Pardon my taking the liberty," she said in a small voice."It will be the last-for some time."Her voice was strange, and her eyes, widely opened, had an excited, frightened look."You're not going away!" Isabel exclaimed.
"I'm going to the convent."
"To the convent?"
Pansy drew nearer, till she was near enough to put her arms round Isabel and rest her head on her shoulder.She stood this way a moment, perfectly still; but her companion could feel her tremble.The quiver of her little body expressed everything she was unable to say.Isabel nevertheless pressed her."Why are you going to the convent?""Because papa thinks it best.He says a young girl's better, every now and then, for ****** a little retreat.He says the world, always the world, is very bad for a young girl.This is just a chance for a little seclusion-a little reflexion." Pansy spoke in short detached sentences, as if she could scarce trust herself; and then she added with a triumph of self-control: "I think papa's right; I've been so much in the world this winter."Her announcement had a strange effect on Isabel; it seemed to carry a larger meaning than the girl herself knew."When was this decided?" she asked."I've heard nothing of it.""Papa told me half an hour ago; he thought it better it shouldn't be too much talked about in advance.Madame Catherine's to come for me at a quarter past seven, and I'm only to take two frocks.It's only for a few weeks; I'm sure it will be very good.I shall find all those ladies who used to be so kind to me, and I shall see the little girls who are being educated.I'm very fond of little girls," said Pansy with an effect of diminutive grandeur."And I'm also very fond of Mother Catherine.I shall be very quiet and think a great deal."Isabel listened to her, holding her breath; she was almost awe-struck.
"Think of me sometimes."
"Ah, come and see me soon!" cried Pansy; and the cry was very different from the heroic remarks of which she had just delivered herself.
Isabel could say nothing more; she understood nothing; she only felt how little she yet knew her husband.Her answer to his daughter was a long, tender kiss.
