CHAPTER L.

"ONLY ONE OTHER PERSON KNOWS MY SECRET."

Then, with the gallantry that was always natural to him, the earl placed his daughter in a chair. He turned with a smile to Mark.

"I was a coward," he said, "for the second time in my life. I was afraid to look at her; now I do not see how I can look anywhere else. How am I to thank you? You have brought me the fairest and most graceful daughter in England!"

"Well," said Mark, with an air of great consideration, "you see, my lord, we had nothing to do with her grace and beauty; but my wife has certainly done her best to teach the young lady little tidy ways, and such like."

"I hope she has learned them," said the earl, kindly. "Mrs. Brace looks as though she could teach all goodness. And this is my daughter! Child, how like you are to me."

"I am very glad, papa; am I not like mother, too?"

"No," he replied, gravely, "not in the least. Thank Heaven for it!"

When they heard those words they thought that he had certainly married beneath him--that his marriage had not turned out happily.

"There are some necessary legal forms to be gone through," said the earl, "and as business is always disagreeable, it will be well, perhaps, if we settle that at once. My lawyer is in attendance. It will be necessary for you and Mrs. Brace to make an affidavit stating that this is indeed my daughter, the infant placed under your charge."

"That will be easy enough," said Mark. "If some one does the writing, I will sign."

Lord Linleigh laughed; Mrs. Brace looked a little scandalized at the very free-and-easy speech. The earl said, laying his hand caressingly on the girl's shoulder:

"This becomes a very important lady now; we must be careful what we do about her. She is Lady Doris Studleigh, and that is one of the oldest titles in England."

"Who could have thought it?" said kindly Mrs. Brace. "Lady Doris Studleigh, let me be the first, your ladyship--my dear--to wish you health and strength to enjoy your good fortune."

The earl was pleased when he saw his daughter clasp her arms round her foster-mother's neck.

"She has a loving, grateful heart," he said to himself, "and that is rare enough in a Studleigh."

He little dreamed that in those few minutes Doris had read his character accurately, and that the action was performed entirely to please him.

The bell was rung, and the lawyer appeared. The affidavits were soon drawn out. Mark and his wife each swore solemnly that the young lady they brought to the earl was the child who had been left under their charge. Mark was greatly relieved when he found that he had nothing more to do than to sign his own name.

"Affidavits were certainly never less necessary," said the lawyer--"the Lady Doris has a true Studleigh face."

How the girl's heart beat with high pride and gratified vanity as she heard her title from strange lips!

Then the lawyer was dismissed, and the earl led the way to the hall. To the surprise of the three strangers, all the servants of the household were assembled, evidently by the earl's desire. He stopped one moment, looked at them, then taking his daughter by the hand, led her before them.

"My good friends," said the earl, "I have a few words to say to you, and those few words are better said in public. You are, most of you, aware, I suppose, that years ago I was a captain in the army, without any expectation of ever being an earl. I married before I went to India--some of you know it, some do not. One daughter was born to me, and I lost my wife. My daughter has lived under the charge of her worthy foster-parents, and I trust you will pay all obedience, all respect, all honor to Lady Doris Studleigh."

There was not a heart present which was not touched by emotion. All eyes were fixed on that beautiful face turned half-wistfully toward them.

"Long live Lady Doris Studleigh!" said some of the more enthusiastic.

"Long life and happiness!" said the others.

The earl looked pleased, then he led the way to the dining-room, where a grand banquet was prepared.

Mark never forgot that dinner--the plate, the wines, the fruit, the exquisite dishes, the number of well-trained servants. His embarrassment was at times something dreadful, but the earl was so kind, so considerate; he helped him at such critical periods, keeping during the whole time an observant eye on his daughter. He was charmed with her grace, her dignity; and her perfectly easy manner delighted him even more than her marvelous beauty. He saw that she was quite familiar with all the little details of table etiquette; and while he inwardly thanked Heaven that it was so, he secretly wondered how she had acquired it; evidently the good farmer and his wife had not taught her.

When dinner was over, the earl would not hear of their return, as Mark wished. He declared that they must remain and see all the sights of Linleigh, to the secret annoyance of Doris.

"The sooner she had finished with these vulgar people," she said to herself, "the sooner she should be able to take her own place."

But she was quick enough to take her cue from the earl's kindly behavior to them. Lord Linleigh had indeed quite sense enough to appreciate a noble, sterling character like Mark's. He made them happy as possible all the evening, and when they had retired he drew his daughter to his side.

"I have made no arrangements for you, my darling; shall we discuss them now?"

"No," she replied, quickly, "not until Mr. and Mrs. Brace are gone away. I want to think of nothing but them while they are here."

He was so delighted that he drew her closer to him, saying:

"You are a treasure--you are, indeed, my darling. The housekeeper has a niece who will act as your maid until you choose one. The blue-room has been prepared for you; to-morrow you shall choose a suit for yourself."

She thanked him, and then bade him good-night.

He watched the graceful figure and beautiful face until the door closed, then he sank back in his chair in unutterable relief.

"Thank Heaven!" he said, "that is all over. I must write to Estelle and tell her how well it has all passed off." He sat musing for a short time with a smile on his face. "I ought, most certainly, to think myself a very happy man," he said. "In all my life I have seen nothing to compare with that girl's face. Estelle will be very proud of her."

Meanwhile his daughter was rehearsing her first lesson in the dignified retirement of her own room. She had found in the pretty chamber, known as the blue-room, a pretty, rosy maid waiting for her; a bright fire was burning, the lamps were lighted on the toilet-table: the room looked the very picture of luxury and comfort. The maid greeted her with a most respectful courtesy.

"If you please, my lady, the housekeeper desired me to remain here at your service."

"Draw that easy-chair to the toilet-table," said Lady Doris; "find me a footstool, and give me from my box there a book bound in yellow paper."

Her orders were obeyed with a quickness and dexterity that amazed her, imperious as she was.

"Now," said Lady Doris, leaning back in her chair so as to enjoy the fire and bright pearly light, "you can brush my hair; but be very careful--I am very particular over it."

It was certainly a sight to be seen, that long, rippling golden hair, bright as the sunbeams, soft as silk, fine, abundant, full of natural waves. The girl looked at it admiringly as it hung over her arms in a great shower.

"It really does seem a pity to sleep in it," she thought. "If it were my hair I should like to take it off at night."

When sufficient of that ceremony had been gone through, Lady Doris turned round:

"Will you go to the housekeeper and say I should like some wine and a bunch of grapes, if she has any?"

The maid complied. The housekeeper, all anxiety to please my lady, sent a bottle of finest Burgundy, with a bunch of rich grapes that were tempting enough.

"My mistress is as beautiful as an angel," said the maid, "but she knows how to look after her own comforts."

"So do all ladies," was the housekeeper's reply; "what else have they to do? But when you have lived as long as I have, Emily, you will know how to wait upon people without making comments upon them."

The maid returned to the room; her lovely young mistress still sat reading by the fire.

"What shall I do for you in the morning, my lady?" she asked.

"See that I am not called too early; let me have some chocolate just after I awake, and see that the water of my bath is both warmed and perfumed."

Emily opened her eyes in wonder, but thought it better to say no more. She contented herself by thinking again that Lady Studleigh knew how to study her own comforts.

"Is there anything more I can do to-night, my lady?"

"Nothing more," was the reply, given with a smile that won the maid's heart forever and ever.

She hastened to the housekeeper's room to make her report.

"So beautiful, kind, and gracious; but so thorough lady--no nonsense, no freedom--a lady who looked as though she would keep the whole world in its place." And the servants crowded round her to listen and admire.

Lady Doris was impatient to be alone--impatient to lock the door between herself and all human kind, in order that she might give some little freedom to the emotions pent up in her heart.

She had controlled herself so well; she had won surprise, admiration, and wonder by simply refraining from expressing any of the three. Now no curious eyes were gazing at her, no curious ears were listening to what words in her triumph escaped her. She locked the door, then stood before the large mirror and steadfastly looked at herself.

"All this is mine!" she said. "I have every wish of my heart at last! I have luxury such as I never dreamed of--magnificence suited for a queen! I have a title that makes music in my ears! I have one of the noblest earls in England for my father! Ah, how near I have been to losing all this; even now I might lose it if that terrible secret of mine became known--it would be taken from me. My father would forgive me many things, but never that."

She stood quite still; the color faded from her beautiful face; a cold chill seized her.

"How foolish I am," she said. "What need have I to fear? Only one other person knows my secret, and he would be the last, I know, to make it known. If ever he attempts it, he shall die!"

Then she laughed; but there was something dreary in the laugh.

"I shall never see him again," she said to herself; "and if I did--if he declared that he knew me--I should look quite steadily in his face and say--swear, if necessary--that in all my life I had never met him before. I am Studleigh enough to have nerve for that. Who was my mother, I wonder? Some one of whom the earl is evidently ashamed; therefore she can have little interest for me."