They went together through Linleigh Court. Until then Doris had no just idea of the immense extent of the place--she was amazed at it. And the rooms were all so light, so sunny, so bright, she was quite at a loss which to choose. One suit delighted her very much--four large, lofty rooms, with ceilings superbly painted, looking south, so that the warmth and brightness of the sun was always on them. The windows were built after the French fashion--long, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, and opening on to balconies filled with flowers. The great charm to Doris of these rooms was, that the boudoir opened on to a balcony, and a small flight of steps led from the balcony to the ground, so that she could go from her own rooms to the gardens without passing through the house. "That is very nice," said the earl, "for young ladies who love the early dew and the flowers. Do you think it safe, Doris? Suppose you forgot to fasten the door leading on to the balcony?" It was an evil fate that led Lady Doris to choose that suit of rooms. CHAPTER LIII. A YOUNG LADY PLEASANTLY OCCUPIED. A few days afterward the Earl of Linleigh, with his daughter, went to London. He had decided not to go to his own house, which was one of the most beautiful mansions in Hyde Park--Hyde House. They were going simply on business, and would spend the greater part of their time driving from one store to another. The first visit, of course, was to Madame Francoise, to whom the earl explained that his daughter required, in one word, everything needful for a young lady of rank and position. "It will take many hours, Doris," said the earl; "such things cannot be hurried. I can leave you here while I drive on to my lawyer's, to transact some business with him. Remember, my darling, you have _carte blanche_--every whim to be gratified." Then he drove away, leaving her with Madame Francoise. How forcibly it recalled to her the time when Lord Vivianne had done the self-same thing. "Truly," she laughed to herself, "history repeats itself. How little then did I foresee this." So little that if even in a dream she could have been warned of it, she would never have spoken to Lord Vivianne. "Never mind," she said to herself, with the light-hearted _insouciance_ of her race. "Never mind, no one knows--nothing will come of it; but it would certainly be a relief to me to hear that Lord Charles Vivianne was dead." The pity of it was that Lord Charles could not hear the remark; it would have given him a lesson that he would not have forgotten. Madame wondered what had brought so grave an air of preoccupation over the beautiful young face. Surely, if any human being was to be envied, it was the young girl who had _carte blanche_ in her elegant establishment. "She must know what she is about, though," thought madame. "Dreaming is useless here."