ll, and it had merely shaped and strengthened the ardent
desire of youth to go to his country's defense. He was a man now, and
capable of loving with supreme tenderness and strength. Yet he had seen
no woman to whom he cared to pour out the first sweet draught of a man's
regard.

But Doris must not go away, she could not.

Morning, noon, and night he watched her. She prepared his father's
toast, she chatted with him and often coaxed him to taste this or that,
for his appetite was slender. On sunny mornings they went to drive, or
if not she brought her sewing and sat in the study, listened and
discussed the subjects he loved, and was enthusiastic about the Boston
that was to be, that they both saw with the eye of faith. While he took
his siesta she ran up to Sudbury Street, or did an errand. Later in the
afternoon there would be calls. There was a sideboard at the end of the
hall where a bottle or two of wine were kept, as was the custom then,
and a plate of cake.

Doris brought in a fashion of offering tea or sometimes mulled cider on
a cold day. But Miss Recompense made delicious tea, and some of the
gentlemen took it just to see Doris drop in the lump of sugar so
daintily.

If they were at home there was always company in the evening, unless the
night was very stormy. De la Maur generally made one of the guests. If
they were alone they had a charming evening in the study.

The young Frenchman was most punctilious. He might take a few cousinly
freedoms, but he never offered any that were lover-like. So it was the
more easy for Doris to persuade herself that it was merely relationship.
Occasionally the eloquence of his eyes quite unnerved her. She cunningly
sheltered herself beside Eudora when it was possible.

But De la Maur's regard grew apace. It would not be honorable to come
without declaring his intentions. And the American fashion of being
engaged was extremely fascinating to him. He wanted the more than
cousinly privileges.

So it happened one night Betty and Warren came over with a piece of
music Mrs. King had sent, a song by Moore, the Irish poet. Doris went to
the parlor to try it. That was De la Maur's golden opportunity, and he
could not allow it to slip. In a most deferential manner he laid his
case before her relative and guardian and begged permission to address
Miss Doris.

Winthrop Adams was utterly amazed at the first moment. Then he recovered
himself. Doris _was_ a young lady. One friend an