Chapter 45

CHAPTER XLV

I have already had reason to say that Isabel knew her husband to
be displeased by the continuance of Ralph's visit to Rome. That
knowledge was very present to her as she went to her cousin's
hotel the day after she had invited Lord Warburton to give a
tangible proof of his sincerity; and at this moment, as at
others, she had a sufficient perception of the sources of
Osmond's opposition. He wished her to have no freedom of mind,
and he knew perfectly well that Ralph was an apostle of freedom.
It was just because he was this, Isabel said to herself, that it
was a refreshment to go and see him. It will be perceived that
she partook of this refreshment in spite of her husband's
aversion to it, that is partook of it, as she flattered herself,
discreetly. She had not as yet undertaken to act in direct
opposition to his wishes; he was her appointed and inscribed
master; she gazed at moments with a sort of incredulous blankness
at this fact. It weighed upon her imagination, however;
constantly present to her mind were all the traditionary
decencies and sanctities of marriage. The idea of violating them
filled her with shame as well as with dread, for on giving
herself away she had lost sight of this contingency in the
perfect belief that her husband's intentions were as generous as
her own. She seemed to see, none the less, the rapid approach
of the day when she should have to take back something she had
solemnly bestown. Such a ceremony would be odious and monstrous;
she tried to shut her eyes to it meanwhile. Osmond would do
nothing to help it by beginning first; he would put that burden
upon her to the end. He had not yet formally forbidden her to
call upon Ralph; but she felt sure that unless Ralph should very
soon depart this prohibition would come. How could poor Ralph
depart? The weather as yet made it impossible. She could
perfectly understand her husband's wish for the event; she
didn't, to be just, see how he COULD like her to be with her
cousin. Ralph never said a word against him, but Osmond's sore,
mute protest was none the less founded. If he should positively
interpose, if he should put forth his authority, she would have
to decide, and that wouldn't be easy. The prospect made her heart
beat and her cheeks burn, as I say, in advance; there were
moments when, in her wish to avoid an open rupture, she found
herself wishing Ralph would start even at a risk. And it was of
no use that, when catching herself in this state of mind, she
called herself a feeble spirit, a coward. It was not that she
loved Ralph less, but that almost anything seemed preferable to
repudiating the most serious act--the single sacred act--of her
life. That appeared to make the whole future