And while he looked at her, it seemed to him, as it had done to Gregory Leslie, that there was something familiar in the face; that he had either seen that or one very like it before.
A few more days, and they were settled in one of the most luxurious mansions near the Tuileries. Then, indeed, was every wish of Doris' heart fulfilled. Well-trained servants waited upon her; the magnificent rooms were carpeted with velvet pile, the hangings were of the richest silks and lace; wherever she went large mirrors showed the beautiful figure from head to foot; she had a carriage and a pair of horses that were the admiration of all Paris; she had jewels without number, and more dresses than she could wear; she had a maid whose business it seemed to be to anticipate every wish. What more could she desire?
Lord Vivianne was kind, but he did not treat her with any great amount of deference. There was, however, one very good characteristic, as she thought it—he was unboundedly generous; if she expressed a wish he never hesitated about gratifying it; he never counted either trouble or expense.
Enhanced by the aid of dress, of perfume, by the skill of a Parisian maid, her beauty became dazzling. He was very proud of her; he liked to drive out with her, and see all the looks of admiration cast upon her; he liked to feel himself envied. She was, without exception, the fairest woman in Paris; and his pride in her was proportionately great.
The opera was then in full tide of success, and Doris never wearied of going there. It was not that she was particularly fond of music, but she enjoyed the triumph of her own bright presence; she was the observed of all observers. The sensation that her fair loveliness created was not to be surpassed.
One asked another, "Who is it?"
"The beautiful Englishwoman, Mrs. Conyers."
"Who is Mrs. Conyers?"
No one knew, and there lay the sting; there was the one thorn in her garden of roses; she drained the cup of pleasure to the dregs; she missed no fete, no opera; she was introduced to gentlemen, but never to ladies; she had pleasant little dinners, where some of the wittiest conversation took place, but no ladies came near; and she would fain have seen herself envied by women as well as admired by men; that was the one thing she desired above all others. But there was no one to envy her.
She asked Lord Vivianne one day why it was. He looked at her and laughed a most peculiar laugh.