"She learned that the wisdom of this world is foolishness," replied Isabel dreamily, "and she found the key to life's Holy of Holies. Therefore I killed her, because she knew too much. You never met her, and I have forgotten her, for it is nearly two years since she died."
"Really, Isabel, you are a little too prone to let your imagination run away with you. But now I want you to look at this rustic fencing; it is an idea of my own, and is, I think, most effective."
"Oh! it is pretty enough," replied Isabel indifferently.
Lord Wrexham's face fell. "I am so sorry you are not more pleased with it, my darling; I designed it for you, and I did so hope that it would give you pleasure. Is there anything about it you would like different?"
"Oh! no; it is all right."
"You see, all my delight now in improving Vernacre is in making it fitter for you. It could never be worthy of such a mistress as it will have; but I hardly let a day pass without doing something to make it a little more meet for your acceptance."
"It is very good of you," said Isabel gently, as they turned away.
"Not at all; it is mere selfishness on my part, as my greatest pleasure lies in pleasing you. I trust you will not hesitate to mention anything that you would like different, either in my home or in myself; and, if alteration is possible, it shall be made."
"Do you mean you would let me tell you of your faults?"
"Of course I would," replied Lord Wrexham; "and, what is more, I would try to correct them."