Madame Merle observed her as she passed and while she stood a moment before the mantel-glass and pushed into its place a wandering tress of hair.
"Poor Mr.Rosier keeps saying there's nothing impossible in Lord Warburton's falling in love with Pansy," Madame Merle went on.

Isabel was silent a little; she turned away from the glass.

"It's true--there's nothing impossible," she returned at last, gravely and more gently.
"So I've had to admit to Mr.Rosier.So, too, your husband thinks." "That I don't know." "Ask him and you'll see." "I shall not ask him," said Isabel.
"Pardon me; I forgot you had pointed that out.

Of course," Madame Merle added, "you've had infinitely more observation of Lord Warburton's behaviour than I." "I see no reason why I shouldn't tell you that he likes my stepdaughter very much." Madame Merle gave one of her quick looks again.

"Likes her, you mean--as Mr.Rosier means ?" "I don't know how Mr.Rosier means; but Lord Warburton has let me know that he's charmed with Pansy." "And you've never told Osmond ?" This observation was immediate, precipitate; it almost burst from Madame Merle's.