"You are prejudiced and uncharitable."
Jean dashed out of the room, and Miss Lorraine sighed. When the spring came, the girl went to Paris. She wrote at first pretty frequently; then her letters flagged, finally ceased altogether, and Miss Lorraine took counsel with the Colonel about her.
"It sometimes strikes me, how strangely we are brought into contact with one another," she said, with a little laugh. "Here are you and I worrying ourselves over a girl who has no particular claim upon us, and who resents our interference in her affairs. Shall we put her out of our lives, and let her, as you say, buy her experience?"
The Colonel looked into the fire with knitted brow.
"I am responsible for her leaving her home," he said. "I should never forgive myself, if she came to grief in any way. Write to her continually, Frances, whether she replies or not. Let her see you mean to keep a hold over her. Write to Mrs. Blake."
"I have, but she does not answer. However, I know Jean is in good health, for my friend Miss Greer saw her working at the Louvre the other day."
"Did she speak to her?"
"Just for a few minutes. Jean was not communicative."
"We cannot put her out of our lives," the Colonel went on seriously. "She has been brought into them with a purpose."
Miss Lorraine smiled.