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262 262 THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. by a gigantic iron fence, some thirty miles round," Henrietta announced, for the information of Mr. Osmond. " I should like him to converse with a few of our Boston radicals." " Don't they approve of iron fences ? " asked Mr. Bantling. " Only to shut up wicked conservatives. I always feel as if I were talking to you over a fence ! " "Do you know him well, this unreformed reformer ? ' Osmond went on, questioning Isabel. " Well enough." " Do you like him 1 " " Very much." " Is he a man of ability ? " " Of excellent ability, and as good as he looks." "As good as he is good-looking do you mean? He is very good-looking. How detestably fortunate ! to be a great English magnate, to be clever and handsome into the bargain, and, b way of finishing off, to enjoy your favour ! That's a man could envy." Isabel gave a serious smile. " You seem to me to be always envying some one. Yesterday it was the Pope ; to-day it's poor Lord Warburton." " My envy is not dangerous ; it is very platonic. "Why do you call him poor ? " " Women usually pity men after they have hurt them ; that is their great way of showing kindness," said Ralph, joining in the conversation for the first time, with a cynicism so trans- parently ingenious as to be virtually innocent. "Pray, have I hurt Lord Warburton 1" Isabel asked, raising her eyebrows, as if the idea were perfectly novel. " It serves him right if you have," said Henrietta, while the curtain rose for the ballet. Isabel saw no more of her attributive victim for the next twenty-four hours, but on the second day after the visit to the opera she encountered him in the gallery of the Capitol, where he was standing before the lion of the collection, the statue of the Dying Gladiator. She had come in with her companions, among whom, on this occasion again, Gilbert Osmond was numbered, and the party, having ascended the staircase, entered the first and finest of the rooms. Lord Warburton spoke to her with all his usual geniality, but said in a moment that he was leaving the gallery. "And I am leaving Koine," he added. "I should bid you good-bye." I shall not undertake to explain why, but Isabel was sorry to