"You should have a love affair, as you call it, Lady Studleigh, in Italy, where the air is poetry, and the wind music." "Papa," said Lady Studleigh to the earl, who was just passing her chair, "do you hear Lord Vivianne's advice?" "No, my dear; but I do not doubt that it is good." "He tells me to go to Italy to learn a lesson in love. That is a sorry compliment to England and the English, is it not?" CHAPTER LXVII. A QUIET WEDDING ADVOCATED. "What did that little note mean, Doris?" asked Earle, with a smile. "You see that I obeyed you implicitly." Even as he spoke he stood still, lost in admiration of the beautiful picture before him. Although it was summer there was a bright little fire in the silver grate, the lamps were lighted, but lowered, so that the room was filled with a soft light; the hangings of rich rose silk were drawn, the long mirrors reflected the light, the flowers filled the air with perfume, and in the very heart of the rich crimson light sat the Lady Doris. She was half-buried in a nest of crimson velvet, the firelight had caught the gleam of her jewels, the sheen of the golden hair, the light in her eyes, the white dress: it seemed to shine above all on the white jeweled hands, that lay carelessly clasped on her knee. She had told the countess Earle would call, and that she wished to speak to him, so that she knew her _tete-a-tete_ would be quite undisturbed. Earle looked at her, thinking that there had never been so fair a picture in all the world; then he repeated his question. She looked up at him, and he was struck by the unusual expression in her eyes; he knelt down before her, and took one white hand in his. "That cruel note," he said, "depriving me of a pleasure I cannot enjoy too often. What did it mean?" She did what was very unusual with her; she clasped her arms round his neck. "Oh, Earle! Earle! it is strange what rest I feel when you are near me. I will tell you what the note meant, but you will laugh at me." "I do not think so, darling; I have laughed with you, but not at you." "I knew that tiresome Lord Vivianne was coming, and he tries my temper so; he will admire me, and I do not want his admiration." "Then why keep me away, darling; I might have saved you from it." "No; I knew you could not. I was obliged to go down to dinner with him, and it would have tried my temper too severely if I had been compelled to sit by him and could not have been with you. You may think it a stupid, childish reason, Earle, but it is a true one. I was determined if I could not talk to you, I would not be annoyed by seeing any one else do so." He looked slightly puzzled, but, as he said to himself, it was one of her caprices--why not be content? "If my staying away pleased you," he said, "I am doubly pleased." Yet it struck him as he spoke, that she had lost some of her animation and brightness. "How beautiful you look in this light, Dora," he said. "Why, my darling, a king might envy me."