"It's very kind of you to pity her!" she cried, with a discordant laugh. "Yes, indeed, you have a pure mind!"
"He must have been false to his wife," said Isabel, suddenly controlling herself.
"That's all that's wanting—that you should take up her cause!" the Countess went on.
"But to me—to me—" And Isabel hesitated, though there was a question in her eyes.
"To you he has been faithful? It depends upon what you call faithful. When he married you, he was no longer the lover of another woman. That state of things had passed away; the lady had repented; and she had a worship of appearances so intense that even Osmond himself got tired of it. You may therefore imagine what it was! But the whole past was between them."
"Yes," said Isabel, "the whole past is between them."
"Ah, this later past is nothing. But for five years they were very intimate."
"Why then did she want him to marry me?"
"Ah, my dear, that's her superiority! Because you had money; and because she thought you would be good to Pansy."
"Poor woman—and Pansy who doesn't like her!" cried Isabel.
"That's the reason she wanted some one whom Pansy would like. She knows it; she knows everything."
"Will she know that you have told me this?"
"That will depend upon whether you tell her. She is prepared for it, and do you know what she counts upon for her defence? On your thinking that I lie. Perhaps you do; don't make yourself uncomfortable to hide it. Only, as it happens
