It was very earnestly put, and it embarrassed him. What a life the child had lived; what an education had been hers! And now he feared that the inevitable had come to be. Thrown into the society of the big-limbed boy, she had immediately fallen in love with him. This should have been looked for, and it would have been if he had realised a little earlier the nature of her birthright and its consequences. She was born in a land where passion is often uncurbed and the blood runs hot in the veins. Religion had done nothing for her; those who would educate her must begin at the very beginning. He himself felt totally unfit for the task. And she had refused already to live with the Silvesters, at any rate in England.
"Has Harry Lassett spoken to you about going to Paris?" he asked upon an impulse. She shook her head.
"I wish he would. I wish he would ask me to go away from her."
"Don't you think it would be very unkind to Gabrielle to go with him even if there were no other reason?"
"I don't think that. She wouldn't care."
"She is going to be his wife."
"Yes, and that is why I hate her."
No further question could be asked or answered, for Gabrielle entered the room at the moment, and immediately the child hid herself in the bedclothes and would not speak another word.