"I hope you will be very happy here, my dear," said Granny Grimshaw behind her.
Doris turned round to her impetuously. "Dear Mrs. Grimshaw, I don't like Jeff to give up the best room to me," she said. "Isn't there another one that I could have?"
She glanced towards a door that led out of the room in which they were.
"Yes, go in, my dear!" said Granny Grimshaw with a chuckle. "It's all for you."
Doris opened the door with a quick flush on her cheeks.
"Master Jeff thought you would like a little sitting-room of your own," said the old woman behind her.
"Oh, he shouldn't. He shouldn't!" Doris said.
She stood on the threshold of a sunny room that overlooked the garden with its hedge of lavender and beyond it the orchard with its wealth of ripe apples shining in the sun. The room had been evidently furnished for her especial use. There was a couch in one corner, a cottage piano in another, and a writing-table near the window.
"The old master bought those things for his bride," said Granny Grimshaw. "They are just as good as new yet, and Master Jeff has had the piano put in order for you. I expect you know how to play the piano, my dear?"
Doris went forward into the room. The tears were not far from her eyes. "He is too good to me. He is much too good," she said.