Why should she not have been? What pages of her life written in the dark room of a shabby parsonage forbade that freshet of a young girl's spirit, here gushing from the wells of convention which so long had preserved it? Silvester, all said and done, was just a successful Congregational minister. His sincerity and natural gifts of eloquence had pushed him into the first rank of well-advertised special pleaders. By this cause and that, the doors had been opened to him; and with him went Gabrielle to the ethical fray. If her heart remained with those whom the world would have called "her equals," she was but obeying the fundamental laws of human nature. Millionaires and their palaces; my lord this and my lord that, thrust into the chair of a cause for which they did not care a snap of the fingers--what had Silvester's house in common with them? Reason answered nothing; he himself would never have put the question. So here was Gabrielle like a child let out of school. The long afternoon found her pirouetting with Harry Lassett, or with other disorderly young men of a like nature; the swift night discovered her in a sentimental mood, with all thought of multi-millionaires gone away to the twinkling stars. A brass band had begun to play by that time, and a man was selling baked chestnuts. A pretty contrast that to the Savoy Hotel. Their talk had been chiefly ejaculatory during the afternoon, but the twilight found them mellowing. Harry still harped upon America, and with some disdain; and now, at length, his contempt found expression. "Did you see that American chap all right?" he asked her in an interval of the riot. She admitted the guilt of it. "Do you mean Mr. Faber?" "The fellow you met on the ship--Apollo and the liar; the man who talked about eleven millions sterling." "Yes, I saw him. How did you know I was going?" "Oh! I was in the Savoy myself this morning. I'm thinking of buying the place." "Then you propose to settle down?" "Or settle up. What did you want from the Stars and Stripes this morning, Gabrielle?" "An impertinent question. Why should I tell you? Why do you want to know?" "Because I have the right to know." "The right, Harry--the right!"