“I could hope not, indeed. It seems to me the world has sterner work for some of us women than to be plaguing our wits to please a man or pleasing ourselves by plaguing him. I would gladly give up all if I could help my people in Morvaix here. Little did the Duke think how nearly his offer touched me.” “Did you think so sternly yesterday, Gabrielle, after that chance encounter in the market place?” “If my thoughts wandered from my duty for an hour, a night’s reflection has corrected them,” answered Gabrielle slowly. “The night had nothing but bitterness for me,” cried Lucette dismally. “And to-day Denys has ridden away without a word.” “You should not provoke his anger against you so lightly.” “There was no cause for it. He would be jealous of another man’s shadow,” said Lucette with a pout; and then with a quick change of mood, she cried: “Oh, how selfish I am; but how am I to tell you?” “To tell me what?” “I don’t know what name to give it, or how to speak of it. I was talking with Master Dauban, your uncle’s secretary----” “So that was the cause of Denys’ anger! Lucette, Lucette!” “I hate him; he is a loathsome creature.” “Then why talk to him?” “He made me talk to him by what he said.” “Now of a truth you puzzle me.” “It is true. He spoke of some danger threatening Malincourt and you, and I did but try to get it from him. That was all.” “You should not listen to tittle-tattle, coz.” “He spoke of your betrothal to this M. de Cobalt--that there was some sinister meaning in it; that M. de Cobalt was no true man but a villain; and that others greater than he were concerned to do you harm through him. What could I do but listen and seek the truth?” “You could have bid him hold his tongue for a mischief-making meddler in concerns that are none of his. Tell me no more of it, Lucette.” “But he swore it was true, and that----” “Peace, child; I will hear no more.” “Gabrielle, you must,” cried Lucette, looking up. “It is true, and you must find out what it means.” “Shall I give my hand to a man not trusting him?” “Can you marry him knowing he is not true?” “Lucette, you will make me lose patience. Would you have me deign to fret myself over the worrying of an idle gossip-monger?” “Oh, it is terrible.” “You are not yourself, child, and are frightened because you have angered Denys more deeply than usual. Come, let us go out into the bright sunshine and shake off these fretting fancies. You are always the slave of passing moods, Lucette,” she said, as they crossed the terrace and passed down the broad steps into the garden. “But out here in the sunshine you can most easily recover your spirits.” “I am plagued with a fear of--I know not what,” answered Lucette, sighing dismally. “I wonder where Denys has gone.” “He will come back, and as you are always telling me, all will come right, again.” She smiled but the smile ended in something like a sigh.