“I don’t think so. I only hope you won’t be disappointed in me. I am awfully stupid; but I’m always trying to learn,” she added, with a smile. “Do you know Mr. Churchill very well? Is he an old friend of yours?”
“No,” said Doris, gravely; “I have known him for a few days only. He was very kind to me; very kind, indeed.”
“I know. He always is,” said Lady Despard. “Such a benevolent man, isn’t he? I always say that he reminds me of one of the patriarchs, with his gentle smile, and long hair, and soft voice. Any one would guess he was a philanthropist the moment they saw him, wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t know,” said Doris; “I have seen so few philanthropists.”
“No. Well, I suppose there aren’t many, are there? Oh, Mr. Spenser Churchill is a wonderfully good man; he’s so charitable, and all that. Why, I don’t know how many societies he is connected with. I try and do all the good I can,” she added, looking rather bored; “but my philanthropy is generally confined to subscribing five pounds; and there’s not much in that, is there?”
Doris was tempted to say: “Exactly one hundred shillings,” but, instead, remarked that if everybody gave five pounds poverty would be very much on the decrease.
“Yes,” said her ladyship, as if the subject had exhausted itself and her, too. “How well you look in black!—oh, forgive me!” as Doris’ lips quivered. “How thoughtless of me!—that is always my way—I never think until I’ve spoken! Of course, Mr. Churchill told me about your trouble. I’m so sorry. I’ve had trouble myself.”
She glanced at a portrait which hung on the wall as she spoke, a portrait of a very elderly gentleman, who must have been extremely ugly, or very cruelly wronged by the artist.
“Your father?” said Doris, gently.
“No, that is the earl—my husband,” said Lady Despard, not at all discomposed, though Doris’ face went crimson. “You think he looks old? Well,” reflectively, “he was old. He was just sixty-eight when we married. We were only married two years. He was very good to me,” she went on, calmly eying the portrait as if it were that of a chance acquaintance, “extremely so—too much so, they all said, and I dare say they were right. He was immensely rich, and he left me everything he could. I’m afraid I’m wickedly rich,” she added, almost plaintively; “at any rate, I know there is so much money and houses and that kind of thing as to be a nuisance.”