“You like me for it?” And Lord Warburton looked at her with an uncertain eye. “I think you mean you’re laughing at me for it.”
“Yes, I’m laughing at you a little. But I like you as somebody to laugh at.”
“Ah well, then, let me enter into his situation a little more. What do you suppose one could do for him?”
“Since I have been praising your imagination I’ll leave you to imagine that yourself,” Isabel said. “Pansy too would like you for that.”
“Miss Osmond? Ah, she, I flatter myself, likes me already.”
“Very much, I think.”
He waited a little; he was still questioning her face. “Well then, I don’t understand you. You don’t mean that she cares for him?”
A quick blush sprang to his brow. “You told me she would have no wish apart from her father’s, and as I’ve gathered that he would favour me—!” He paused a little and then suggested “Don’t you see?” through his blush.
“Yes, I told you she has an immense wish to please her father, and that it would probably take her very far.”
“That seems to me a very proper feeling,” said Lord Warburton.