"Sometimes I think that simple, unworldly life is best for everybody," said Lady Estelle. "I get tired of society and display, and fancy I should like to wear a print gown and lie all day under an apple-tree in bloom." "But apple-trees don't bloom all the year, and the ground is often outrageously damp," laughed the duke. "And these simple people cannot lie under trees all day, or much of the day; consider they must be making butter and cheese, and curing bacon," added her grace. "So?" drawled Lady Estelle. "Then no doubt I had better stay as I am." "My dear girl," said her father, seriously, "it is time to reconsider that determination to stay as you are. Not long ago you refused the Marquis of Bourne. You said he was too old and too plain. Now I have a proposal from the Earl of Seaton for your hand. He is neither old nor plain; he is in every way eligible." "Now you are boring me again, papa," drawled Lady Estelle. "But, my dear, I approve of the earl. I really wish to see you married. What shall I say to him?" "Tell him to go away and not trouble me, papa." "My daughter, he deserves a better answer. You are my only child; I shall not live forever; I must consider your future. Marriage will contribute to your happiness." "I am happy enough, papa." "Then think of our happiness--your mother's and mine. Oh, Estelle! when I saw that lovely little child, how I wished I had a grandchild like that!" A ruddy blush dyed Lady Estelle's face, and she was silent. "Daughter," said the duchess, "do not wait and refuse all offers from some romantic fancy about falling in love. That does not belong to your rank. Perhaps your nature is not to love any man very passionately: but you will care for your husband when you are married, and you will love your children." Lady Estelle drooped her eyelids until the long lashes rested on her swiftly paling cheek. "Mamma, I _hate_ the word marriage!" she said, with far more than her usual vehemence. "We will drop the question at present," said her mother, anxiously. "You are looking very pale and ill. This long ride has been too much. I wish I had not permitted it." Yes, Lady Estelle was the worse for her visit. She looked paler each day, and often when alone she whispered: "Faithless and debonair--faithless and fair; faithless and debonair!" The duke soon concluded that he must begin his wanderings again in search of health and strength for his idolized only child. The suitors were sent sway, the castle was closed, and the family of Downsbury went far from Brackenside and little Doris. CHAPTER VII. ALL, ALL IS VANITY.