"It is really some comfort to have a daughter whom one can consult about such matters. I want to marry as soon as I can; but marrying a duke's daughter in England is a tremendous undertaking, Doris. The amount of ceremony and form to be gone through with is something dreadful. I should not mind about that; but, you see, the great embarrassment is this--the duke is very particular, and he would naturally think it too soon after the late earl's death for me to make any great public sensation--that is the difficulty." "Yes, that is a difficulty," said Doris. "All that would be obviated entirely if I went to Paris, and could obtain their consent to a quiet ceremony at the embassy, or something of that kind." "It would be a very wise course, papa." "So I think, my dear, and I shall start for Paris next week. I may be a month absent. Now comes the great difficulty of all, Doris--what is to be done with you?" "I can remain here," she said. "Not alone, my dear, not alone--it would not do. I thought if I were to ask that nice daughter of Mark Brace's she would stay with you; then I should feel quite at my ease." "I should be much pleased," said Doris. It would indeed be a triumph to show Mattie, upon whom she had always looked down, the difference that really existed between them. "Then all our difficulties are silenced," said the earl. "I have often heard people say how difficult their daughters are to manage; but if they are like you, Doris, there cannot be such great difficulty." She laughed, wondering to herself if he would say the same in a year's time. "You understand, Doris, that it will not do for you to go into society at all just yet. You must neither receive or pay visits. No young lady does anything of that kind until she has been presented at court." "When does my presentation take place, papa?" "If all goes well, I think next May. Lady Estelle or the duchess will present you; then you may consider yourself fairly afloat--until then, solitude. You can spend the intermediate time in the acquisition of all kinds of little accomplishments; not that you are deficient, for you are a perfect wonder to me. The next thing to be done, Doris, is that you must choose a suit of rooms for yourself. I give you permission to choose which you will; and when we go to London, you shall go to Mantall & Briard's, the famous decorators and house-furnishers, and choose anything you like. It will amuse you during my absence to superintend the fitting-up of four rooms--it will give me a fair idea of your taste."