"Ah, it's very true; I was going away."
"You must stay now."
"Certainly. I came for a reason; I have something on my mind."
"I have told you that before," Isabel said—"that it takes something extraordinary to bring you to this house."
"And you know what I have told you; that whether I come or whether I stay away, I have always the same motive—the affection I bear you."
"Yes, you have told me that."
"You look just now as if you didn't believe me," said Madame Merle.
"Ah," Isabel answered, "the profundity of your motives, that is the last thing I doubt!"
"You doubt sooner of the sincerity of my words."
Isabel shook her head gravely. "I know you have always been kind to me."
"As often as you would let me. You don't always take it; then one has to let you alone. It's not to do you a kindness, however, that I have come to-day; it's quite another affair. I have come to get rid of a trouble of my own—to make it over to you. I have been talking to your husband about it."
"I am surprised at that; he doesn't like troubles."
"Especially other people's; I know that. But neither do you, I suppose. At any rate, whether you do or not, you must help me. It's about poor Mr. Rosier."
"Ah," said Isabel, reflectively, "it's his trouble, then, not yours."
"He has succeeded in saddling me with it. He comes to see me ten times a week, to talk about Pansy."
"Yes, he wants to marry her. I know all about it."
