"Oh, why does not some lord with a coach and six come along and carry me off and marry me?" she cried one day as she sat in the window, lazily watching the falling snow.
"Surely you would not give up Earle for any lord!" cried Mattie.
"Wouldn't I! I only hope for his sake I'd not be tempted. If the lord had money enough, and jewels enough, and memorial castles enough I'm afraid, Mattie, you'd be left to console Earle."
"Child, don't talk in that reckless way," said Mrs. Brace.
"I'm only telling the truth. I find in myself a natural affinity for lords," said Doris, and Mrs. Brace sighed and flushed.
Well, the winter passed, and the love-making of Earle was becoming an old story, and farm life a weariness to the flesh, but still Doris hid her vexations and unrest in her heart. The hawthorn bloomed, when Mark came in one day, crying cheerily:
"Here's something like old days. The duke is coming home for good, and Lady Estelle is finally quite well and strong, but unmarried still—more's the pity."
"They've been away long," said Patty, uneasily.
"Ay. How long is it since I've seen his grace? Not since they all came here."
Patty looked warningly at him.