“Nay, it is he plagues me. He is always quarrelling.”
“You are always finding cause to make him, you mean?”
“He is a man, and must be kept in his place;” and Lucette shrugged her shoulders.
“By bickering and teasing and wrangling? Does it please you?”
“There is always the making up again;” and Lucette laughed roguishly.
“Beware how you try him too much. He is sterling mettle.” She paused and suppressed a sigh as she added: “How happy you should be!”
Lucette glanced across at her and her manner changed.
“You are thinking again, Gabrielle. You are not sad?”
“Yes, I was thinking. I ought not to be sad, to-day of all days; and yet——” The rest of the sentence was an unmistakable sigh, deep and sincere.
“He may prove a gallant cavalier, Gabrielle, your Gerard; as gallant maybe as your hero of the market place. Don’t look like that, dear.”