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258 258 THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. Isabel for a moment did the same ; whereupon she found herself confronted with Gilbert Osmond, who appeared to have been standing at a short distance behind her. He now approached, with a formal salutation. " So you decided to come 1 " she said, putting out her hand. " Yes, I came last night, and called this afternoon at your hotel. They told me you had come here, and I looked about for you." " The others are inside," said Isabel. " I didn't come for the others," Gilbert Osmond murmured, smiling. She turned away; Lord Warfrurton was looking at them; perhaps he had heard this. Suddenly she remembered that it was just what he had said to her the morning he came to Gar- dencourt to ask her to marry him. Mr. Osmond's words had brought the colour to her cheek, and this reminiscence had not the effect of dispelling it. Isabel sought refuge from her slight agitation in mentioning to each gentleman the name of the other, and fortunately at this moment Mr. Bantling made his way out of the choir, cleaving the crowd with British valour, and followed by Miss Stack pole and Ralph Touchett. I say fortunately, but this is perhaps a superficial view of the matter ; for on perceiv- ing the gentleman from Florence, Ralph Touchett exhibited symptoms of surprise which might not perhaps have seemed nattering to Mr. Osmond. It must be added, however, that these manifestations were momentary, and Ralph was presently able to say to his cousin, with due jocularity, that she would soon have all her friends about her. His greeting -to Mr. Osmond was apparently frank ; that is, the two men shook hands and looked at each other. Miss Stackpole had met the new-comer in Florence, but she had already found occasion to say to Isabel that she liked him no better than her other admirers than Mr Touchett, Lord Warburton, and little Mr. Rosier in Paris. " I don't know what it is in you," she had been pleased to remark, " but for a nice girl you do attract the most unpleasant people. Mr. Goodwood is the only one I have any respect for, and he's just the one you don't appreciate." " What's your opinion of St. Peter's ? " Mr. Osmond asked of Isabel. "It's very large and very bright," said the girl. " It's too large ; it makes one feel like an atom." " Is not that the right way to feel in a church?" Isabel asked, with a faint but interested smile. " I suppose it's the right way to feel everywhere, when one