llusion to the success
Pansy might extract from their visit. He murmured a recognition, but
left Isabel to say that it was a matter requiring grave consideration.
Isabel, even while she made this remark, could see the great vista
which had suddenly opened out in her husband's mind, with Pansy's little
figure marching up the middle of it.

Lord Warburton had asked leave to bid good-bye to Pansy, but neither
Isabel nor Osmond had made any motion to send for her. He had the air of
giving out that his visit must be short; he sat on a small chair, as if
it were only for a moment, keeping his hat in his hand. But he stayed
and stayed; Isabel wondered what he was waiting for. She believed it
was not to see Pansy; she had an impression that on the whole he would
rather not see Pansy. It was of course to see herself alone--he had
something to say to her. Isabel had no great wish to hear it, for she
was afraid it would be an explanation, and she could perfectly dispense
with explanations. Osmond, however, presently got up, like a man of good
taste to whom it had occurred that so inveterate a visitor might wish
to say just the last word of all to the ladies. "I've a letter to write
before dinner," he said; "you must excuse me. I'll see if my daughter's
disengaged, and if she is she shall know you're here. Of course when
you come to Rome you'll always look us up. Mrs. Osmond will talk to you
about the English expedition: she decides all those things."

The nod with which, instead of a hand-shake, he wound up this little
speech was perhaps rather a meagre form of salutation; but on the whole
it was all the occasion demanded. Isabel reflected that after he
left the room Lord Warburton would have no pretext for saying, "Your
husband's very angry"; which would have been extremely disagreeable to
her. Nevertheless, if he had done so, she would have said: "Oh, don't be
anxious. He doesn't hate you: it's me that he hates!"

It was only when they had been left alone together that her friend
showed a certain vague awkwardness--sitting down in another chair,
handling two or three of the objects that were near him. "I hope he'll
make Miss Osmond come," he presently remarked. "I want very much to see
her."

"I'm glad it's the last time," said Isabel.

"So am I. She doesn't care for me."

"No, she doesn't care for you."

"I don't wonder at it," he returned. Then he added with inconsequence:
"You'll come to England, won't you?"

"I thi