"Do not talk so," she answered. "Sir Stephen has a—a kind heart; and I think—one day—he will atone."
Michael did not reply, only he raised the comforting hand, kissing it reverently.
With woman's wisdom, she made haste to change a painful subject.
"I should be so afraid if you were not here," she said, with child-like frankness—"so very afraid."
"Of what, little one?"
He still held her hand very closely.
"Lord Denningham. Oh! I hate him, and yet he frightens me. His eyes are horrible."
Her cheeks flushed as she remembered the insolent boldness of my lord's stare when he met her not two hours since in the garden.
"He shall not hurt you, Gabrielle."
She smiled at the assurance in happy trustfulness.