"It _is_ possible," she said. "I have been with you long enough to know that with you everything is possible. _Why_ I wish it done, is my whim, my folly--my secret, if you will." "I really do not see----" began the earl; but she laid one soft, white hand on his lips. "Let me show you, papa. Let me hear your objections, and vanquish them one by one." "To begin with--your train of bridesmaids, they must be invited." "Papa," she interrupted, "I want none, I will have none, only Mattie, my foster-sister--let her come, no one else." "Then the marriage settlements?" said the perplexed earl. "They can be arranged with all possible secrecy, if you only say one word to your lawyers." "But the bishop, and the marriage. My dear Doris, it is impossible, impracticable, ridiculous!" "I am sure that you will be sorry, papa, if you refuse me." And something in her voice struck the earl with keen anxiety. "Have you any secret, sensible reason for what you ask, Doris?" he said, gravely, the old suspicion that there had been something strange in his daughter's life coming back to him with double force. "I have my own fancy, papa; do not thwart it, do not oppose me now that I am so soon to leave you. You will always be pleased to think how much of my own way you have given me in this instance." "Let her do as she will, Ulric," said Lady Linleigh; "it would be cruel to refuse her." "Listen to my idea first, papa. This is the sort of wedding I should like--you, of course, can please yourself whether you let me have it or not. I should like no one except Mattie to know anything about it in advance of the day. I should like my wedding _trousseau_ to be as magnificent and grand as you please, all ordered, arranged, and prepared, to be kept in London ready for me, so that I may select what I want to take abroad with me, then I should like Earle to come on the eighth, as though he were coming for an ordinary visit; on the ninth, I should be quite willing for you to tell the servants in the house, so that wedding favors, flowers, and a wedding breakfast can be prepared; then, early on the morning of the tenth, I should like to drive over to the old church at Anderley with Earle, Mattie, and you--Lady Linleigh, if she will come--no one else; then to be married in that pretty church, where the morning sun always shines so brightly, and then go away with Earle. No pealing of bells, no jewels, no showers of wedding presents, no pomp, no bishop, with assistant ministers, no ceremony, no grandeur. That is just what I should like, papa." "I never heard such an extraordinary idea in all my life," said the earl. "I do not know what to answer. I should like you to have your own way; but such a wedding for an earl's daughter is unheard of."