Her heart and spirits rose alike, she smiled at her own fair image in the glass; early as it was, a fragrant bouquet of white hyacinths lay on the toilet table, sent by some adoring lover who evidently hoped that the flowers would say for him what he could not say for himself. She smiled over them, inhaling the rich odor with delight, thinking to herself the while, "What a poet Earle is; what a rapture he went into last night about flowers and summer."
She felt better. The sun was shining in at her windows, the sweet breath of the hyacinths reached her. It seemed impossible that sorrow or death should come into such a bright world. She smiled to herself when she heard that Earle was with her father.
"He has most certainly lost no time," she said to herself.
Yet, nearly an hour passed before the earl left the library; then, owing to strangers being present, he could not speak to her of what had passed. He merely touched her hand.
"Doris," he said, "I have been having a long talk with Earle, and I must have one with you before dinner."
"I will remember, papa," she said.
Then as the day was so fine Earle prayed her to ride out with him.
"An hour in the park would be so pleasant," he said.
And Lady Linleigh thought the same. Doris was quite willing to go.
When they were under the shade of the trees, Earle went more slowly.