Gerald had always had a loyal regard for his homely and despised uncle. He listened to his confession with sympathy, and undertook to warn Belle that she was in her father’s house. But he had carried out his task imperfectly. The marquis realized that he must himself complete the revelation which Gerald had begun. He had found Belle for a moment by herself, and had arranged this meeting in a spot where he expected to be free from interruption.
“Why should the marchioness look at you like that?” asked Belle, in perfect innocence, as she came towards the window, where her father was waiting for her.
“That is one of the things that I have to tell you,” he answered, gravely. “But sit down, my dear, sit down.”
She obeyed, and gazed up at him wonderingly as he stood before her.
“I thought it better to bring you here,” he explained. “We might have been disturbed down-stairs, but no one ever comes here except the members of the family.”
Belle opened her eyes.
“Are you, then—what about you? Are you a member of the same family as the Marchioness of Severn?”
The marquis bowed his head.
“Yes, I am a member of the family. That is what I want to speak to you about. I want to tell you a family secret.”
“But why? Why should you tell me?” she gasped, with something like dismay. “I don’t belong to the Marquis of Severn’s family.”