I felt rather unwell when I went out for my ride this morning," she answered with a frantic attempt at excuse.
The blind man was well aware that her reply was but a subterfuge.
Little, however, did he dream the cause.

Little did he know that a dark shadow had fallen upon the young girl's life--a shadow of evil.
"Gabrielle," he said in a low, intense voice, "why aren't you open and frank with me as you once used to be?
Remember that you, my daughter, are my only friend!" Slim, dainty, and small-waisted, with a sweet, dimpled face, and blue eyes large and clear like a child's, a white throat, a well-poised head, and light-chestnut hair dressed low with a large black bow, she presented the picture of happy, careless youth, her features soft and refined, her half-bare arms well moulded, and hands delicate and white.
She wore only one ornament--upon her left hand was a small signet-ring with her monogram engraved, a gift from one of her governesses when a child, and now worn upon the little finger.
That face was strikingly beautiful, it had been remarked more than once in London; but any admiration only called forth the covert sneers of Lady Heyburn.
"Why don't you tell me ?" urged the blind man.

"Why don't you tell me the truth ?" he protested.
Her countenance changed when she heard his words.

In her blue eyes was a look of abject fear.

Her left hand was tightly clenched and her mouth set hard, as though in resolution.
"I really don't know what you mean, dad," she responded with a hollow laugh.