"Is she much older than you?"
"Older?—-she is younger than I am!" exclaims Doris, fairly laughing out this time.
"I beg your pardon," begins Mr. Ferrars, looking a little vexed, "but I thought I understood you to say 'old girl' in reference to your sister just now."
"O, yes, I daresay I did," replies Doris checking her laughter; "but that is a way we all have of speaking of her. She seems like a little mother to us all, and appears to take a delight in all those things which I hate. Honor has always been the industrious one of the family, and it was just the same in the school-room. Miss Denny (our late governess) used to complain dreadfully of my laziness over my lessons; and although I was supposed to be 'finished,' and was going up to town for my first season, I am sure I couldn't speak a whole sentence in French without at least two mistakes. I used to tell them all not to bother about me, because I had made up my mind to marry a duke after I was presented and had 'come out;' then, you see, I could have done just as I liked, and should always have had everything done for me."
"You couldn't have had French spoken for you though," objects Mr. Ferrars smiling up at the girl, who is seated in state in the arm-chair; "and I fancy even a duchess would sometimes be called upon to speak another language than her own. Would nothing less than a duke do?"
Doris shakes her head solemnly.
"I had quite made up mind to be a duchess, nothing more nor less. But that is all at an end now," she adds with a little sigh. "I suppose I shall remain plain Doris Merivale to the end of my days."
"O, I don't know; why should you?"
"Well, you see, all chance of a duke or anybody of that sort is quite at an end now, and no ordinary person would care to have me."
"Why not?"