Isabel thought this rather sharp; she also got up. and stood a moment, looking into the fire. "Lord Warburton has shown you great attention," she said; "of course you know it's of him I speak." She found herself, against her expectation, almost placed in the position of justifying herself; which led her to introduce this nobleman more crudely than she had intended.
"He has been very kind to me, and I like him very much. But if you mean that he will ask me to marry him, I think you are mistaken."
"Perhaps I am. But your father would like it extremely."
Pansy shook her head, with a little wise smile. "Lord Warburton won't ask me simply to please papa."
"Your father would like you to encourage him," Isabel went on, mechanically.
"How can I encourage him?"
"I don't know. Your father must tell you that."
Pansy said nothing for a moment; she only continued to smile as if she were in possession of a bright assurance. "There is no danger—no danger!" she declared at last.
There was a conviction in the way she said this, and a felicity in her believing it, which made Isabel feel very awkward. She felt accused of dishonesty, and the idea was disgusting. To repair her self-respect, she was on the point of saying that Lord Warburton had let her know that there was a danger. But she did not; she only said—in her embarrassment rather wide of the mark—that he surely had been most kind, most friendly.
"Yes, he has been very kind," Pansy answered. "That's what I like him for."
"Why then is the difficulty so great?"
"I have always felt sure that he knows that I don't want—what did you say I should do?—to encourage him. He knows