Over her fell dim, coloured lights from the stained-glass windows; and shadowy ancestors looked silently down from the armour-hung walls.
To Gaston, collected as he was, it gave an ominous feeling.

Why did she come here even in her sleep?
What did that look mean?
He gazed intently into her eyes.
All at once her voice came low and broken, and a sob followed the words: "Gaston, my brother, my brother!" He stood for a moment stunned, gazing helplessly at her passive figure.
"Gaston, my brother!" he repeated to himself.

Then the painful matter dawned upon him.

This girl, the granddaughter of the rector of the parish, was his father's daughter--his own sister.

He had a sudden spring of new affection--unfelt for those other relations, his by the rights of the law and the gospel.