've never congratulated you."

"Of course I've noticed that. I wondered why you were silent."

"There have been a good many reasons. I'll tell you now," Ralph said.
He pulled off his hat and laid it on the ground; then he sat looking at
her. He leaned back under the protection of Bernini, his head against
his marble pedestal, his arms dropped on either side of him, his hands
laid upon the rests of his wide chair. He looked awkward, uncomfortable;
he hesitated long. Isabel said nothing; when people were embarrassed she
was usually sorry for them, but she was determined not to help Ralph to
utter a word that should not be to the honour of her high decision. "I
think I've hardly got over my surprise," he went on at last. "You were
the last person I expected to see caught."

"I don't know why you call it caught."

"Because you're going to be put into a cage."

"If I like my cage, that needn't trouble you," she answered.

"That's what I wonder at; that's what I've been thinking of."

"If you've been thinking you may imagine how I've thought! I'm satisfied
that I'm doing well."

"You must have changed immensely. A year ago you valued your liberty
beyond everything. You wanted only to see life."

"I've seen it," said Isabel. "It doesn't look to me now, I admit, such
an inviting expanse."

"I don't pretend it is; only I had an idea that you took a genial view
of it and wanted to survey the whole field."

"I've seen that one can't do anything so general. One must choose a
corner and cultivate that."

"That's what I think. And one must choose as good a corner as possible.
I had no idea, all winter, while I read your delightful letters, that
you were choosing. You said nothing about it, and your silence put me
off my guard."

"It was not a matter I was likely to write to you about. Besides, I knew
nothing of the future. It has all come lately. If you had been on your
guard, however," Isabel asked, "what would you have done?"

"I should have said 'Wait a little longer.'"

"Wait for what?"

"Well, for a little more light," said Ralph with rather an absurd smile,
while his hands found their way into his pockets.

"Where should my light have come from? From you?"

"I might have struck a spark or two."

Isabel had drawn off her gloves; she smoothed them out as they lay
upon her knee. The mildness of this movement was accidental, for her
expression was not conciliatory. "You're beating about the bush, Ralph.
You