"You uphold me, then?"
"I told the Duke I was sure what your reply would be when he laid on me the ungrateful task of questioning you. Yet in a way I am sorry; for if it be not you, it may be some one less worthy, to the hurt of all in Morvaix."
"And if need should come, you will stand by me as to my cousin?"
"Have I ever failed you when I had the power to help? But in this I am powerless. It would be wrong to give you fruitless hope. Were he but a good man, worthy of your sweet pure love, how gladly would I serve you, if serve any one I can in my helplessness."
Gabrielle smiled. "I will prove him worthy—nay, not I, he himself will prove it to Morvaix and the world; and then I will claim your promise."
"Nor claim it in vain, Gabrielle; that you know. And now let us speak of less trying matters. I am weary," said the Duchess, and they were thus engaged when the Governor entered.
Gabrielle rose, and the Duke first cast a sharp questioning glance at his wife's face—
"I am always glad to find you here, mademoiselle. I trust you have had long enough time to come to an understanding?"
"I have done my utmost, Charles," said the Duchess, shrinkingly.
"I ask no more. May I beg some words with you, mademoiselle?"
"Except on one subject, certainly," replied Gabrielle.
"We will discuss the exceptions in private," he returned with a frown.
"I beg you to excuse me, my lord."
His answer was characteristic. He opened the door leading to an adjoining room and held it for her to pass out.
