“I do,” Miss Vaux said, in a voice clear and cold, and hard as ice. From Bertha there came no answer.
“It is one of the few things I recollect about her,” Gabrielle said again, very softly, “the rest is almost all indistinct, like a half-forgotten dream. I was only four years old, you say, Joanna, when she died?”
“You know it; why do you ask?” Miss Vaux said, harshly and quickly.
There was a pause. It was so dark that none of their faces could be seen, but one might have told, from the quick nervous way in which, unconsciously, Gabrielle was clasping and unclasping her hand, that there was some struggle going on within her. At last, very timidly, her voice trembling, though she tried hard to steady it, she spoke again.
“Sisters, do not be angry with me. Often, lately I have wished so very much to ask you some things about my mother. Oh, let me ask them now. Dear sisters, tell me why it is that you never speak to me, or almost allow me to speak, of her? Is it because it grieves you so much to think of her death, or is there any other cause”—her voice sank so low that it was almost a whisper—“why her name is never mentioned amongst us? I have kept silence about this for so long, for I knew you did not wish to speak of it; but, oh sisters, tell me now! Ought I not to know about my own mother?”
“Hush!” Miss Vaux said, in a voice stern and harsh. “Gabrielle, you do not know what you are asking. Let it be enough for you to learn that any thing I could tell you of your mother could give you nothing but pain to hear—pain which we would gladly spare you yet, knowing, as we so well do, the great bitterness of it. I ask you for all our sakes, yours as much as ours, never again be the first to mention your mother’s name!”
She had risen from her seat, and stood upright before Gabrielle, the outline of her tall, dark figure showing clearly against the window. In her voice there was not one trace of emotion; her whole manner was hard, and cold, and unimpassioned; like that of one who had, long ago, subdued all gentle feelings.
Gabrielle’s tears were falling fast, but she made no answer to Miss Vaux’s words. She stood much in awe of both her sisters, especially of the eldest, and knew well how hopeless all remonstrance with her would be.