graceful platitudes to cover the working of their observation. It must be confessed that her pride was a trifle alarmed. A man whom she had heard spoken of in terms that excited interest, and who was evidently capable of distinguishing himself, had invited her, a young lady not lavish of her favours, to come to his house. Now that she had done so, the burden of the entertainment rested naturally upon himself. Isabel was not rendered less observant, and for the moment, I am afraid, she was not rendered more indulgent, by perceiving that Mr. Osmond carried his burden less complacently than might have been expected. "What a fool I was to have invited these women here!" she could fancy his exclaiming to himself.
"You will be tired when you go home, if he shows you all his bibelots and gives you a lecture on each," said the Countess Gemini.
"I am not afraid of that; but if I am tired, I shall at least have learned something."
"Very little, I suspect. But my sister is dreadfully afraid of learning anything," said Mr. Osmond.
"Oh, I confess to that; I don't want to know anything more—I know too much already. The more you know, the more unhappy you are."
"You should not undervalue knowledge before Pansy, who has not finished her education," Madame Merle interposed, with a smile.
"Pansy will never know any harm," said the child's father. "Pansy is a little convent-flower."
"Oh, the convents, the convents!" cried the Countess, with a sharp laugh. "Speak to me of the convents. You may learn anything there; I am a convent-flower myself. I don't pretend to be good, but the nuns do. Don't you see what I mean?" she went on, appealing to Isabel.
