Madame wondered what had brought so grave an air of preoccupation over the beautiful young face. Surely, if any human being was to be envied, it was the young girl who had carte blanche in her elegant establishment.
"She must know what she is about, though," thought madame. "Dreaming is useless here."
She little knew Lady Doris. Going up to her with a book of patterns in her hand, she was almost startled by the clear, keen gaze that met her own—by the perfect judgment and cool, clear, calm sense of the earl's daughter.
"There will be some few things, madame," said the clear, haughty voice, "that you will understand far better than I do, others in which I shall prefer to please myself."
And madame found that Lady Studleigh had a taste and artistic sense of what is beautiful far superior to her own. The next few hours were delightful to Doris. The rarest and most costly laces, the most beautiful embroidery, the finest silk, the richest velvet—there never were such purchases made. She did not limit herself either as to quality or quantity, and nothing was forgotten—tiny slippers fit for Cinderella, dancing shoes, fans, gloves. She might have been a practiced old dowager, selecting a trousseau for her youngest daughter. The sum total was something enormous. Even madame, accustomed as she was to large accounts, looked slightly frightened.
"My Lord Linleigh placed no limit," she said to Doris.
"No, I must have all I require; I shall not return to town until the season begins," was the perfectly self-possessed reply.
Then Lord Linleigh returned, and madame watched his face intently as that wonderful account was placed before him.
"It takes four figures," he said, with a smile; "that is quite right, my darling. I hope that you have everything you want. To-morrow we will pay a visit to Storr & Mortimer's, the jewelers. These packages, madame, are all to be sent to Linleigh Court."
Doris was in the highest spirits. She said to herself—and it was probably true—that no girl in England, not even a royal princess, had such a trousseau; but she had too much good taste to show any undue elation over it. When they had dined she said to her father: