"She got rid of you on purpose; drove you out, to be untrammelled in her intercourse with him!" whispered the abbe with compassion. "My children!" moaned the chatelaine, aghast. "Why can it be his wish that she should take them from me, their mother?" CHAPTER IX. THUNDER CLOUDS. Gabrielle was stung to the quick. When _she_ taught the infants her husband could never be lured into the nursery, and now--in so brief a space of time--a stranger had succeeded in rousing his dormant interest. In her jealousy she took to secretly watching the movements of the governess, and discovered, to her dismay, that the steps of Clovis were constantly wending towards the school-room. And this state of things had been brought about by the non-performance of duties. It was her own fault--of course it was her own fault for neglecting the abbe's warning. Had he not said that Clovis required leading; had he not even offered to assist her in leading him, and had she not replied by inference that so long as he was guided judiciously, it might be by another hand? But never, in wildest nightmare, had she conjured the possibility of that hand being another woman's! She was a bad wife, for she had neglected her duty, since, surely, it is a wife's first duty to make herself pleasant to her husband. Oh! woe on sins of omission! Instead of pampering her spouse's hobbies she had scoffed at them, and punishment had swooped swiftly down on her. But it was not too late to set the matter right. He was not a bad man, though difficult to live with. A word of remonstrance at this juncture was worth a homily later, and he would hearken to her words of pleading, for since the arrival of the brothers at Lorge he had shown, in a glimmering glow-worm way, that he admired and liked his wife. She was satisfied that his sluggish nature was not capable of a warmer feeling, and had brought herself meekly to accept that microscopic meed of affection. She must take her courage in her hands, and open her heart to him; declare that his new arrangement, which at the start promised well enough, was making his wife wretched. When he came to understand that she was miserable, he would apologise at once and send the interloper packing.