of disquiet. "I—I scarcely heard what the letter contained; and—and before I can say so much I—ought to see it—to examine it." He stumbled and hesitated over the words.
"Do I understand, M. le Baron, that you give me the lie?" and the cold cutting words were accompanied by a look that no one could misunderstand.
"God forfend; but I wash my hands of the whole affair," he cried, with a gesture of profound agitation and a sigh. "It is true, Gabrielle. The letter was written by Gerard to me some time since. It is one of several that have passed between us."
"I do not believe it;" and Gabrielle drew herself up in proud repudiation of the further attack upon the man she loved and trusted.
"On my honour it is so, mademoiselle," declared the Duke. "And now I must make my confession of the part I have played in this. It is no humour of mine to seek others' forgiveness, but for what I have done in all this distressful error, I do beg yours. It was at my instance that this de Cobalt was brought to Morvaix."
"Then do I thank you, my lord, and, believe me, I see nothing in the act which calls for forgiveness," interposed Gabrielle swiftly, as he paused. He took no notice of the interruption; he was too deeply engrossed in thinking how to put his case most plausibly.
"My motive you will at least admit was worthy—it was the good of the people of Morvaix. Next to myself, the House of Malincourt is the most potent influence here, and thus the subject of your marriage has given me much thought. It would have been a disaster had you fallen under the sway of some unworthy man and been prevailed upon to marry him, and so let the influence of your house pass into evil hands. To prevent this, we—for your uncle has shared my views and acted with me throughout—we planned to arrange your marriage with
