]

Slowly the colour died away from her cheeks. Her eyes became
preternaturally bright and anxious.

"There is no one," she faltered, "except that man. He called himself my
guardian."

"Had you seen him before he came to the convent and fetched you away?" I
asked.

"Only once," she answered. "He came to St. Argueil about a year ago. I
hated him then. I have hated him ever since. I think that if all men
were like that I would be content to stay in the convent all my life."

"You don't remember the circumstances under which he took you there, I
suppose?" Mabane asked thoughtfully.

She shook her head.

"I do not remember being taken there at all," she answered. "I think
that I was not more than four or five years old."

"And all the time no one else has been to see you or written to you?" I
asked.

"No one!"

She smothered a little sob as she answered me. It was as though my
questions and Mabane's, although I had asked them gently enough, had
suddenly brought home to her a fuller sense of her complete loneliness.
Her eyes were full of tears. She held herself proudly, and she fought
hard for her self-control. Arthur glanced indignantly at both of us. He
had the wit, however, to remain silent.

"There are just one or two more questions, Isobel," I said, "which I
must ask you some time or other."

"Now, please, then," she begged.

"Did Major Delahaye ever mention his wife to you?"

"Never."

"You did not even know, then, when you arrived in London where he was
taking you?"

"I knew nothing," she admitted. "He behaved very strangely, and I was
miserable every moment of the time I was with him. I understood that I
was to have a companion and live in London."

I felt my blood run cold for a moment. I did not dare to look at Mabane.

"I do not think," I said, "that you need fear anything more from Major
Delahaye, even if he should recover."

"You mean--?" she cried breathlessly.

"We should never give you up to him," I declared firmly.

"Thank God!" she murmured. "Mr. Arnold," she added, looking at me
eagerly, "I can paint and sing and play the piano. Can't people earn
money sometimes by doing these things? I would work--oh, I am not afraid
to work. Couldn't I stay here for a little while?"

"Of course you can," I assured her. "And there is no need at all for you
to think about earning money yet. It is not that which troubles us at
all. It is the fact that we have no legal claim upon you, and people