Doris blushes and hangs her head.
"Then there appeared this rich old French count—"
"He wasn't very old," interrupts Doris.
"Older than I am at any rate. And I thought at first you were a little bit dazzled with the prospect of horses and carriages and diamonds and so forth, so, although I knew even then that I was in a position to give them to you also, I made up my mind I would be sure that you were accepting me for myself, even as the artist who could only give you a very different position to that which the old (I beg pardon, the middle-aged) count could, and I suppose did, offer you. Am I forgiven, Doris? I must be hastening back to my duties now; but you must tell me first, dear, if you care any less for Sir Edward than for the Lancelot you have known so long?"
Doris lifts her face, a little paler than when they entered the room at first, and with unshed tears standing in her large blue eyes she says:
"Dear Lancelot, I care for you no less, no more than at first. I do not think I could ever be fonder of you than I was when I promised to become your wife. But I am glad now that you tried me, and that I accepted you in ignorance of your real position. O," she adds a little archly, "it was horribly mean of you, but I am very, very glad now!"
Sir Edward (for we may as well give him his title now) folds Doris in his arms for one brief moment, then he hurries her out of the room. As they are approaching the hall once more, he whispers, "Give me your programme, Lady Ferrars! I must squeeze in every dance that I can with your ladyship; but oh, these duty dances! I must have one with Honor, and Molly too. Now you understand, I suppose, why I opened the proceedings with Lady Castleton, and why the Earl was your partner?"
"But he doesn't know, does he?" says Doris, looking frightened.
"Yes, I gave him a hint. We are old friends; my father and he were very intimate in days gone by. Lord Castleton has just told me that he thinks Miss Merivale is a very charming girl. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he proposes your health at supper to-night. There will have to be a little speechifying, worse luck, because of the occasion."
"O, good gracious, I hope he won't!" exclaims Doris excitedly. "If he does, I shall fall straight under the table with nervousness!"