“What is that the senor is playing?” asked the duchess presently.
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” replied Lady Despard, helplessly.
Doris rose.
“I will go and inquire,” she said, feeling that she had better seize the opportunity of making herself useful.
Her grace looked after her.
“That’s a very beautiful girl, my dear,” she said, slowly.
“Isn’t she!” responded Lady Despard. “I call her lovely—simply lovely. I’m awfully obliged to Mr. Spenser Churchill.”
“Who is she?—where does she come from?”
“Oh, it’s quite a long story!” said her ladyship, who was not so simple as to throw down Doris’ history for her aristocratic friends to worry. “The poor child has just lost her father.”
“She will create a sensation,” said the duchess, calmly and emphatically. “I don’t think I ever saw a more lovely face, or a more graceful figure—excepting yours, my dear.”