"Doris," said the child, with a gracious little inclination of the head, extending her hand with ease, as if she had now found suitable acquaintances.
Fair, pearly fair, her cheeks and lips mantled with the dainty bloom of the wild rose; her hair like spun gold, flowing over her molded shoulders; her eyes large, shining as stars under dark brows and lashes, fearless, free, not a trace of rustic embarrassment; taper fingers, ears like small pink shells, true child of the nobles, set now among her peers.
"Estelle! do look at her!" cried her grace.
Estelle roused herself from contemplating the clock; she drew off her gloves, and the jewels gleamed on her hands, as she took the child's soft palm, and gently stroked her golden hair.
"You are like sunshine! Speak to me, little one."
"Will you tell me what to say?" asked Doris, promptly.
"What would you like best of anything—tell me?"
"I would like to be just like you! I want to be tall, to have rings, and your pretty dress, and ride in a carriage. I don't like brown clothes, and donkey wagons."
Her little lips curled with scorn, as she looked toward Patty.
"Oh," said Lady Estelle, shocked and remonstrant, "would you not like best of all to be good, very good?"