"I am afraid, Dora, that you must learn to be content with the society of gentlemen."
She understood, then, it was one of the penalties of her sin.
Another thing annoyed her and made the gayeties of Paris unpleasing to her. She was walking with Lord Vivianne in the Champs Elysees, and suddenly she saw him start, and looking at him, his face flushed hotly.
"How unfortunate!" he muttered to himself.
Then she saw in the distance a little group of English people; a young gentleman, who was talking to an elderly lady, with a mild, sad face, and a tall, dark girl with proud, bright eyes. The gentleman saw Lord Vivianne first, but instead of stopping to speak his lordship turned quickly away, much to Doris' disappointment.
"I would not have missed seeing these people on any account," he said impatiently.
"Why did you not speak to them?" she asked wonderingly.
"How could I," he retorted, "while you were here?"
She made no reply, but the words struck her with a terrible pain.
She, the fairest woman in Paris, she whom Earle called his queen—it was not to be borne.