They made hasty adieus, and Mark followed them to the carriage; Mattie stood, a good little figure, framed in the doorway. Doris danced like a butterfly over the turf near the gate. Mark, overcome by his great honors, returned to the parlor, and refreshed himself with a draught of cowslip wine. "Here's an uncommon bit of civility, Patty," he said. "A duke is a duke, say what one may! And what a duke ours is! And what a rare gracious lady is the duchess! But the Lady Estelle--oh, she is rather a proud piece, I fear. But God bless her, she's young, and doesn't know what life is yet. I hope she'll live to be a comfort and honor to them. Patty! Why don't you speak, my girl? You are pale as the dead. This visit has overdone you." "Oh, no; I'm only--_thinking_--very hard, Mark." Mark knew of old that when Patty set herself to hard thinking she might as well be let alone, so he went off to his work among the barley. But Patty worked that day with a burden on her heart. "Well, well," said the duke, as they drove back, "I did not expect to see such a wonderfully beautiful child. Even lovelier than you were, Estelle, when you were little." "Was I pretty?" asked the languid Estelle. "Yes, this child is pretty, and seems to be rather bright." "The prettiest, brightest child I ever saw," said the duke. "But such shocking ideas! I never saw so young a child with such bad tendencies!" cried the duchess. "It is easy enough to see how she will end." "How will she end, mamma?" said Lady Estelle's slow, sweet voice. "Very badly, my dear. She loves luxury; she is willful; she is scornful. She will hate the plain ways of those good people, and they will be able to do nothing with her. Gifts and beauty--dangerous dower for this young bird of paradise, in a wood-dove's nest." "They are bringing up their own child well, I fancy." "Yes, my dear; she _is_ their own; they understand her; they are under no restraint concerning her." "Honest Mark worships that little beauty," said the duke; "his eyes followed her every movement. She will govern him, and so much the worse for her. Your _protegee_ will have tragedy as well as comedy in her life, Estelle." "Why call her _my protegee_?" said Lady Estelle, indolently. "Surely I have sins and follies enough to answer for, papa, without assigning to my protection a child of whom my mother prophesies such evil." "I wish we could do something for her," said the duke. "What could we do? She is admirably well kept; she goes to school. If that good Patty Brace could not succeed with her, could we, where life and fashion would fill her head with nonsense? Perhaps I only speak so because I am constitutionally indolent." "You are quite right. She has too much flattery and indulgence now," said the duchess.