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273 THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. 273 " Very likely ; but you are very wise." " So are you, Miss Archer ! " Osmond exclaimed. " I don't feel so just now. Still, I am wise enough to think you had better go. Good night." " God bless you ! " said Gilbert Osmond, taking the hand which she failed to surrender to him. And then in a moment* he added, " If we meet again, you will find me as you leave me. If we don't, I shall be so, all the same." " Thank you very much. Good-bye." There was something quietly firm about Isabel's visitor ; he might go of his own movement, but he would not be dismissed. " There is one thing more," he said. " I haven't asked anything of you not even a thought in the future ; you must do me that justice. But there is a little service I should like to ask. I shall not return home for several days ; Rome is delightful, and it is a good place for a man in my state of mind. Oh, I know you are sorry to leave it ; but you are right to do what your aunt wishes." " She doesn't even wish it ! "Isabel broke out, strangely. Osmond for a moment was apparently on the point of saying something that would match these words. But he changed his mind, and rejoined, simply " Ah well, it's proper you should go with her, all the same. Do everything that's proper ; I go in for that. Excuse my being so patronising. You say you don't know me ; but when you do you will discover what a worship I have for propriety." " You are not conventional 1 " said Isabel, very gravely. " I like the way you utter that word ! No, I am not conven- tional : I am convention itself. You don't understand that ? " And Osmond paused a moment, smiling. "I should like to explain it." Then, with a sudden, quick, bright naturalness " Do come back again ! " he cried. " There are so many things we might talk about." Isabel stood there with lowered eyes. " What service did you speak of just now ? " " Go and see my little daughter before you leave Florence. She is alone at the villa ; I decided not to send her to my sister, who hasn't my ideas. Tell her she must love her poor father very much," said Gilbert Osmond, gently. " It will be a great pleasure to me to go," Isabel answered. " I will tell her what you say. Once more, good-bye." On this he took a rapid, respectful leave. When he had gone, she stood a moment, looking about her, and then she seated herself, slowly, with an air of deliberation. She sat there till T