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.