"You do not like it, poor child?" she said. "That is very sad. Yet they are very kind to you."
"Yes, they are kind to me. I cannot explain what I mean. I never seem to think as they think, or do as they do. I am not good either, after their fashion of being good."
"What is your idea of being good?" asked Lady Estelle.
"Pleasing myself, amusing myself, making myself happy."
"It is comfortable philosophy at least. What is he like, this Earle Moray, whom your father calls poet and gentleman?" asked Lady Estelle.
Doris smiled. She did not blush, nor did her eyes droop; there was no shyness nor timidity.
"He is fair," she replied, "and he has a noble head, crowned with clustering hair; his face is spiritual and tender, and his mouth is beautiful as a woman's."
"That is a good description; I can almost see him. You love him or you could not describe him so."
"He will be a great man in the future," replied the girl.
Then she started at finding on what familiar terms she was with this daughter of a mighty duke. They were sitting side by side, and Lady Estelle had again taken the shining hair in her hand. Doris' hat had become unfastened, and she held it with careless grace. It even surprised herself to find she was as much at home and at her ease with Lady Estelle Hereford as she was with Mattie.