"Where Annette goes I go," said Chaytor.
"Yet," said Gilbert, with a certain wary thoughtfulness, "matters should be more definitely arranged before you become absolutely one of our family circle. I have spoken of this before. You are neither brother nor cousin--what really would you be to her?"
"You know what I would really be."
"I know, but at present it is locked in a box. If you tarry too long you will lose her. I perceive that that would be a blow; and well it might be, for she is a prize a king would be proud to win. Shall we decide it this evening?" Chaytor nodded. "Join us at nine o'clock, and we will settle the matter. It may be advisable that I speak first to Annette. She may need management. I will give you a word of warning. If it goes according to your wish, be more careful in your behaviour. Think a little less of yourself, a little more of her. Be tender, considerate, thoughtful, for a time at least, until you are secure of her. Then it is your affair and hers, and I shall have nought to do with either of you."
"I will take care of that," thought Chaytor, and said aloud, "You think I need your warning?"
"I know you need it. You have either small regard for women, or you are clumsy in your management of them. Before I leave you now, I wish you to sign this paper."
It was a document, carefully worded, which Gilbert Bidaud had drawn out, by which Chaytor bound himself to make no demand upon Annette's guardian for any money or property, which had fallen to Annette upon her father's death. It was in fact, a renunciation of all claims in the present or the future.
"Why should I sign this?" asked Chaytor rebelliously.
"Because it is my wish," replied Gilbert.
"If I refuse?"