"But I needn't ask that," he said, "since you've been handling the oars." "I've been rowing a little," Isabel answered; "but how should you know it ?" "Oh, I know he doesn't row; he's too lazy," said his lordship, indicating Ralph Touchett with a laugh.
"He has a good excuse for his laziness," Isabel rejoined, lowering her voice a little.
"Ah, he has a good excuse for everything!" cried Lord Warburton, still with his sonorous mirth.
"My excuse for not rowing is that my cousin rows so well," said Ralph.
"She does everything well.

She touches nothing that she doesn't adorn!" "It makes one want to be touched, Miss Archer," Lord Warburton declared.
"Be touched in the right sense and you'll never look the worse for it," said Isabel, who, if it pleased her to hear it said that her accomplishments were numerous, was happily able to reflect that such complacency was not the indication of a feeble mind, inasmuch as there were several things in which she excelled.

Her desire to think well of herself had at least the element of humility that it always needed to be supported by proof.
Lord Warburton not only spent the night at Gardencourt, but he was persuaded to remain over the second day; and when the second day was ended he determined to postpone his departure till the morrow.

During this period he addressed many of his remarks to Isabel, who accepted this evidence of his esteem with a very good grace.

She found herself liking him extremely; the first impression he had made on her had had weight, but at the end of an evening spent in his society she scarce fell short of seeing him--though quite without luridity--as a hero of romance.