"I like this child best. She promises better; she fits her place; she will make the world better for her being in it."
"Thank your grace," said the gratified Patty. "I hope so. But little Doris is very good, too, only we cannot help spoiling her; she has such curious ways."
"Perhaps you wish to see me dance," said Doris, who had been placed on the floor. "Mattie can't dance; she won't learn the steps. I learn, and I make some steps; see me."
Full of grace as a true fairy, she caught one side of her little white gown, and with a glance of veiled coquetry at the duke, began to dance.
The duke clapped his hands in hearty admiration.
The duchess, looking at her daughter, saw that she was deadly pale.
"My dear; you are ill; you are over-fatigued!"
"No, no, I am quite well," said Lady Estelle, calm and proud; "I only want fresh air; the room is close."
They made hasty adieus, and Mark followed them to the carriage; Mattie stood, a good little figure, framed in the doorway. Doris danced like a butterfly over the turf near the gate.
Mark, overcome by his great honors, returned to the parlor, and refreshed himself with a draught of cowslip wine.