Rumor was very busy. There was nothing to wonder about over the countess--she was well-known for many London seasons; she had been a belle and a reigning beauty, she was married at last to a popular nobleman, and would doubtless take her place as one of the queens of society; she would give brilliant _fetes_, head the gayeties of the season. Hyde House would doubtless become one of the most fashionable resorts of the day; but there all sensation about her ceased. With Lady Doris it was different; more curiosity was felt to see Lord Linleigh's daughter than his wife. People heard that she was a regular Studleigh, and the memory of the handsome, debonair race was still living among them. In the time of Charles the Second there had been ladies of the Studleigh family whose names were proverbs for beauty, wit, and recklessness. Strange stories were told of deeds of fun and daring that in people less noble would have been called crimes. And now on the great world--always a little _blase_, a little tired of itself, always athirst for novelty--a new star was to shine--a Studleigh, with all the fatal, witching beauty of her race, and the inheritance of wit that was always pointed. Rumor said she was the loveliest girl on whom the English sun had shone for many years. She would be wealthy, too, for Lord Linleigh was rich. Expectation was for once fairly aroused; then, too, there was something of romance about her story. The marriage of the handsome, popular earl had been a private one; the Lady Doris, it was said, had been educated in the strictest retirement. People were impatient to see her and pronounce their verdict. She was to be presented by the Duchess of Downsbury, whose name was a guaranty for every good quality. The eventful day dawned at last. Lord Linleigh had been somewhat anxious over it. True, his daughter's fate in life was fixed--he would not have had her engagement with Earle Moray broken on any account--yet he desired that she should receive all the homage due to her rank and her beauty. No word of her engagement had been made public; that was by Lady Linleigh's advice. "Give her all the time possible, all the liberty that her heart can desire, and then we shall see if she really prefers Earle to all the world," she said to her husband. Though he laughed at the advice, he owned it was good. On that May day surely Lady Doris' dressing-room was one of the prettiest scenes in all London. The sunbeams crept through the rose-colored blind, and fell on the shining jewels, the costly dresses, the flowers and laces. For the first time in her life Lady Doris was arrayed in full court costume, and certainly nothing could have suited her better. The Duke of Downsbury had insisted on presenting her with a magnificent set of diamonds for the occasion, and she wore them now for the first time. She stood in all the splendor of her marvelous beauty and rich costume, smiling at herself in the mirror.