THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. 59 clear and to lay bare to her apprehension the peculiarities of English life. Isabel was often amused at his explicitness and at the small allowance he seemed to make either for her own experience or for her imagination. "He thinks I am a bar- barian,' 2 she said, "and that I have never seen forks and spoons;" and she used to ask him artless questions for the pleasure of hearing him answer seriously. Then when he had fallen into the trap "It's a pity you can't ?ee me in my war-paint and feathers," she remarked ; " if I had known how kind you are to the poor savages, I would have brought over my national costume ! " Lord Warburton had travelled through the United States, and knew much more about them than Isabel ; he was so good as to say that America was the most charming country in the world, but his recollections of it appeared to encourage the idea that Americans in England would need to have a great many things explained to them. " If I had only had you to explain things to me in America ! " he said. " I was rather puzzled in your country ; in fact, I was quite bewildered, and the trouble was that the explanations only puzzled me more. You know I think they often gave me the wrong ones on purpose ; they are rather clever about that over there. But when I explain, you can trust me ; about what I tell you there is no mistake." There was no mistake at least about his being very intelligent and cultivated, and knowing almost everything in the world. Although he said the most interesting and entertaining things, Isabel perceived that he never said them to exhibit himself, and though he had a great good fortune, he was as far as possible from making a merit of it. He had enjoyed the best things of life, but they had not spoiled his sense of proportion. His composition was a mixture of good-humoured manly force and a modesty that at times was almost boyish ; the sweet and wholesome savour of which it was as agreeable as something tasted lost nothing from the addition of a tone of kindness which was not boyish, inasmuch as there was a good deal of reflection and of conscience in it. " I like your specimen English gentleman very much," Isabel said to Ralph, after Lord Warburton had gone. "I like him too I love him well," said Ralph. "But I pity him more." Isabel looked at him askance. " Why, that seems to me his only fault that one can't pity him a little. He appears to have everything, to know everything, to be everything." " Oh, he's in a bad way," Ralph insisted.
