used her fan vigorously; her face had suddenly grown burning red.
"They are very much attached to each other," continued Mark. "I never saw anything like the way in which he worships her. I am sure that if he lost her he would go mad."
"Let us hope not," said the duchess, with a smile. "Going mad is a very serious matter."
"Then," said the low, sweet voice of Lady Estelle, "your protegee is provided for, Mr. Brace? Her future is safe?"
"I hope so, my lady," said cautious Mark. "But as the wedding does not take place for a year, much may happen in that time."
"We will hope it will all end happily," said her grace, kindly.
Then Mark understood that his interview had ended. Lady Estelle murmured a careless adieu: the duchess spoke kindly of Patty, and Mark went home that night a proud and happy man.
He was greeted with innumerable questions; his wife seemed to think that Mark had been the principal person present: that except for the fact of his presence, the dinner-party would have been insignificant. Doris positively bewildered him with questions. Mrs. Brace and Mattie sat with awe and wonder on their faces.
"I cannot answer so many questions, Doris," said Mark, at last. "I tell you what – I am going to the Castle again on Tuesday to renew my lease; will you go with me?"
Her beautiful face flushed crimson.
"Will I? Of course I will," Doris said.
"What would they say?" asked Mattie.
"They would not say anything," said Mark. "I should tell them that my daughter Doris had a great fancy for seeing the inside of a castle; and you may take my word they will be kind enough."
"Let Mattie go," suggested Mrs. Brace.
But Mattie shrank back.
"Oh, no!" she said, "I should not care for it, I would rather not."
"And I would give a year of my life," said Doris.
"You need not give anything," said Mark. "Dress yourself tidily, not finely," he added, with a touch of natural shrewdness. "One does not require finery in going to see a duchess."
"Shall I see the duchess?" asked Doris, opening her eyes wide with surprise.
Then Mark Brace perceived his error.
"I am a poor hand at keeping a secret," he thought. "If you go to the Castle," he replied, "it is very probable you will see the Duchess of Downsbury."
"I shall not be able to sleep from this moment till then," cried Doris.
And when Earle Moray came she could talk to him about nothing but the intensity of the pleasure in store for her. A hundred times and more did Mark repent giving the invitation; he had no peace, no rest; even Earle himself could not persuade her to talk about anything except the grandeur of Downsbury Castle.
"I am quite sorry I cannot go back to school for a few days," she said, "just to make all my school-fellows mad with jealousy."
"Why should they be mad?" asked Mattie.
"You do not know how much they talk about Downsbury Castle," she replied. "My dear, they call England a Christian land, and they pray for the conversion of all pagans and idolaters. There are no such idolaters as these same English, who worship rank, title, and wealth, as they never worshiped Heaven."
"You are one of them, Doris," said Mattie.
"Not altogether. Underneath my worship there is a vein of cynicism, but no one suspects it. If you want to learn a few lessons of that kind, Mattie, you should go to a fashionable boarding-school. I declare that I never heard any one quoted for being good or virtuous; it was always for being nobly born, rich, titled. I learned my lesson quickly, Mattie."
"You did, indeed," was the brief reply, "and it is a lesson that I am sorry Earle's wife should ever have taken to heart."
The only reply was a careless laugh. Doris did not even care to quarrel with her sister, so highly delighted was she at the prospect of going to the Castle.
At length, to the intense delight and the relief of every one, Tuesday came, and it was time to go.
Doris did not love nature. She had no appreciation of its beauties; but in after years she did remember how the sun had shone on this day, and how blithely the little birds had sung in the trees; how sweet was the perfume of the flowers and the fragrance of the hedges as they drove to Downsbury Castle.
CHAPTER XX
"THEY TELL ME, CHILD, THAT YOU ARE REALLY PROMISED IN MARRIAGE."
It was a busy morning at Downsbury Castle. Several visitors had called, and when Mark, with his beautiful protegee, arrived, they were shown into the library to await the duke's leisure. It was evident to Mark that they had been expected, for a tempting lunch was served to them; a lunch the servants called it – to Mark and Doris it seemed a most sumptuous dinner. Mark could not help watching the girl. He himself was strange, embarrassed, confused; the silver fork was heavy, the napkin confused him; she sat with the easy grace and dignity of a young queen, sipping the rosy wine from the richly cut glass, and looking quite at her ease over it.
"You seem quite at home, Doris," said Mark, enviously.
"I feel so," she replied. "I could live happily enough here; it is so easy to be good when one is rich."
He looked at her in dull wonder, as he generally did when she puzzled him.
"But Doris," he said, "that is just exactly the opposite of what the Bible says. Don't you remember the text about the rich man, the camel, and the needle's eye?"
"I remember it," she replied. "Those who have no money long for it, and some desire it so ardently they will do anything to win it; the rich have no need to be envious or jealous."
He was not clever enough to argue with her; the only thing he could do was to tell her she was wrong, and that she should not talk that way.
Before there was time to reply, the door opened, and the duke came in.
He spoke kindly, saying that the duchess was engaged with some visitors, but that Lady Estelle Hereford would see Miss Brace, and would be pleased to show her the pictures and the flowers.
Mark looked astounded at the condescension; even the duke himself felt some little surprise when she had made the offer.
"You had better let the housekeeper take her, my dear," he had said.
"Very well, papa," she replied, carelessly; but after a few minutes she added: "I think it will amuse me to see this young girl, papa. I will show her some of the pictures and my flowers."
"She would be more comfortable with the housekeeper," he said; "but do as you wish, my dear."
When he saw the beautiful, refined, high-bred young girl seated at the table, he changed his mind – it did not seem so certain that she would be more comfortable with the housekeeper. He looked in wonder at her perfect face and graceful figure.
"She looks like a young princess," he said to himself: and his manner almost involuntarily changed – something of chivalrous respect came into
