"She is—a little particular!"—fondly.
"Oh, very!—very!"
Doris heard her own voice speaking to the Squire, as she stood with head thrown back,—"I'm not the very least afraid of being taken for one of Jane Morris's friends!" She added faintly—
"I'm afraid—I'm a little particular too."
He looked at her with admiration, ready to believe that she was so in the abstract, and failing to see the present application.
"You shall be as particular as you like with me, my darling. Whatever you wish shall be done."
She sighed, but did not explain; and again he poured out loving words, till he had once more the upper hand, and her doubts waned before his fervour. After a while she reverted to them sufficiently to observe—
"I wonder why Mr. Stirling has never spoken of you to us—or of your mother. We know him so well."
"He would hardly go about talking of his own generosity. I don't think that would be his way. Besides—" Maurice stopped.
"Yes. Besides—?"