138 THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. " You are angry," said the girl. " We have discussed this matter quite enough." " Oh, yes, I am angry. I plead guilty to that ! " Isabel turned away from him, walked to the open window, and stood a moment looking into the dusky vacancy of the street, where a turbid gaslight alone represented social anima- tion. For some time neither of these young persons spoke ; Caspar lingered near the chimney-piece, with his eyes gloomily fixed upon our heroine. She had virtually requested him to withdraw he knew that ; but at the risk of making himself odious to her he kept his ground. She was far too dear to him to be easily forfeited, and he had sailed across the Atlantic to extract some pledge from her. Presently she left the window and stood before him again. "You do me very little justice," she said "after my telling you what I told you just now. I am sorry I told you since it matters so little to you." "Ah," cried the young man, "if you were thinking of me when you did it ! " And then he paused, with the fear that she might contradict so happy a thought. " I was thinking of you a little," said Isabel. "A little 1 ? I don't understand. If the knowledge that I love you had any weight with you at all, it must have had a good deal." Isabel shook her head impatiently, as if to carry off a blush. " I have refused a noble gentleman. Make the most of that." " I thank you, then," said Caspar Goodwood, gravely. " I thank you immensely." "And now you had better go home." " May I not see you again]" he asked. " I think it is better not. You will be sure to talk of this, and you see it leads to nothing." " I promise you not to say a word that will annoy you." Isabel reflected a little, and then she said "I return in a day or two to my uncle's, and I can't propose to you to come there ; it would be very inconsistent." Caspai Goodwood, on his side, debated within himself. "You must do me justice too. I received an invitation to your uncle's more than a week ago, and I declined it." "From whom was your invitation?" Isabel asked, surprised. "From Mr. Ralph Touchett, whom I suppose to be your cousin. I declined it because I had not your authorisation to accept it. The suggestion that Mr. Touchett should invite me appeared to have come from Miss Stackpole."
