Gibson hesitated. Then he stammered:
"I was afraid, Ma'am, that ... that me goin' to France the same time as you, Ma'am, wouldn't be ... I mean, it would look like taking a liberty."
I perceived that Gibson, like many others of his class, conceives France as a territory about the size of the Isle of Wight, with Paris in the middle.
"But France is a very big country, Gibson," I said. "Far larger than England. Even if I did object to you, we shouldn't be likely to meet. You couldn't learn to be a chauffeur at Saint Véronique. It's the last place in the world. That's why I go there."
Gibson looked at me narrowly.
"I thank you, Ma'am," he said curtly and proudly. And he made room for me to pass.
In his own fashion, Gibson is as good and as likable as Susan. Never till this week has either of them caused me the slightest anxiety. I saw in a flash how matters stood; and I felt in my heart that Gibson deserved the more sympathy of the two. He was deeper-natured than Susan: prouder and capable of a grand passion which my sweeter and shallower Susan could neither receive nor return. His clean-shaven face was almost as handsome as Susan's was pretty; and if he had enjoyed Susan's advantages instead of being brought up among grooms and stable-boys, he might have been as refined. Rather rashly, I let myself go and said:
"No, Gibson, I'm not going in yet. You have not told me what it is that is really troubling you. There is something on your mind."
He stood stock-still at the path-side and vouchsafed no answer for a long time. At last he said abruptly:
"Then you won't prevent me, Ma'am, coming to France?"