Sybil looked at the picture. “She is exactly like Philippe,” she said. “Tell me how she came to you.”
So Miss Mason told the story.
“I must write to Cecily and tell her to stop sending money to Madame Fournier,” said Sybil when she had ended.
Again there was a long silence. It was broken by Sybil.
“What am I to do?” she said. “I never told Luke I’d been married before. He knows nothing. And now for the first time in my life I want my little girl. It’s odd, isn’t it?”
Miss Mason looked straight before her. Her face had paled a little, and her voice was not quite steady as she answered:
“You must tell him now.”
Sybil drew in her breath quickly. “I can’t do that. You don’t know Luke. He’d never forgive me—never. And I love him.”
“My dear,” said Miss Mason quietly, “are you sure he wouldn’t? Remember, he loves you, and love——”
“Ah,” said Sybil, with a little laugh that was almost a sob, “you’re a woman. Men aren’t like that. At least, Luke isn’t. If he knew I had deceived him he wouldn’t love me any more.”