Vivienne’s eyes went from Stargarde to Mr. Armour. He had a wonderful amount of self-control, yet he could not hide the fact that he admired this charming woman, that he listened intently to every word that fell from her lips.
“I am glad that there is some one he is interested in,” thought Vivienne. “Usually he seems like a man of stone, not of flesh and blood.”
It occurred to her that he had brought Miss Turner up to her room that he might have a chance to listen, without interruption, to the clear, sweet tones of her voice. She imagined that he was in love with her and that his family threw obstacles in the way of their meeting. In this she made a mistake as she soon found out. Stanton Armour was at liberty to pay Miss Turner all the attention he chose, and the whole family welcomed her as an honored guest.
“You and I are going to be friends,” said Stargarde turning to her suddenly. “I feel it.”
“I hope so,” murmured Vivienne.
“Will you have some tea, Israelitess without guile?” asked Judy abruptly flinging an arm over Stargarde’s shoulder.
“Yes, dear,” and Stargarde turned her face toward her. “Why don’t you come to see me?”
“Oh, you worry me with your goodness and perfections,” was the impatient retort. “You’re too faultless for ordinary purposes. I get on better with that young lady there, who is good but human.”
“Have you found some faults in Miss Delavigne already?” asked Stargarde gleefully.
“Yes, plenty of them,” said Judy reaching down to the hearth for the teapot.
“What are they?” asked Mr. Armour soberly.
“I haven’t time to tell you all now,” said Judy. “Come up some day when I’m alone and I’ll go over them. You needn’t smile, Vivienne, I will. What have you been doing with yourself lately, Stargarde? We haven’t seen you for an age.”
“I’ve been in the country finding homes for some of my children.”
“This young person hasn’t the good fortune to be married,” said Judy to Vivienne; “and by children she means orphans and starvelings that she amuses herself by picking out of gutters.”
“I hope that you will be interested in my work,” said Stargarde enthusiastically to Vivienne.
“No, she won’t,” said Judy. “That sort of thing isn’t in her line.”
“Judy,” said Mr. Armour, “it seems to me that you are monopolizing the conversation. Suppose you come over to this window seat and talk to me for a while?”
She followed him obediently, and after they were seated burst out with a brisk, “Thank heaven for family privileges! You wouldn’t have dared say that to a stranger.”
“No,” he said, “I don’t suppose I would.”
“You’re pretty plain-spoken though with everybody,” said Judy critically; “that is, when you want your own way. When you don’t you let people alone. Why are you in such a good temper to-day? Have you been making some money?”
“A little.”
“That’s all you care for, isn’t it?” pursued the girl.
“What do you mean?” he asked, a slight cloud on his face.
“Money is your god,” she said coolly.
He made no reply to her and she went on, “What a pity that you have never married like other men. You’re almost forty, aren’t you?”
“Almost.”
“Just Brian Camperdown’s age; only there is this difference between you, he would get married if he could, and you could if you would. I know some one that would have made a nice, proud wife for you.”
“Judy,” he exclaimed, holding himself a little straighter than he usually did, “what are you talking about?”
“Something that you might have done if you had been as sensible as some people.”
“You are impertinent,” he said angrily.
“This is a long room, and we are some distance from the fireplace,” said Judy in velvet tones, “yet if you raise your voice our two darlings yonder will hear what you are saying.”
Mr. Armour gave her an annoyed glance.
“It isn’t worth your while to quarrel with me,” said Judy smoothly, “the only person in the house that can get on with you. And what have I done? Merely hinted that a charming girl of twenty-one would have done a pretty thing to sacrifice herself to an old bachelor of forty. You ought to feel flattered.”
“I don’t,” he returned sullenly.
“No; because you are a—a—because you are foolish. You ought to feel willing to pay six thousand dollars a year to some one who would make you laugh.”
“What has that to do with Miss Delavigne?” he said.
“Why she amuses you—can’t you see it?—you, a regular grum-growdy of a man, with care sitting forever on your brow.”
“Judy,” he said, “your chatter wearies me.”
“I daresay,” she replied; “it shows you ought to have more of it. You’ll probably go mad some day from business worries.”
Mr. Armour picked up a book that he found on the window seat and began to read it, while Judy turned her back on him and stared out at the peaceful waters of the Arm.
Stargarde was looking earnestly into Vivienne’s face. “You dear child! if I had known you were ill I would have come to you sooner.”
“I have not suffered extremely,” said Vivienne gratefully, yet with dignity.
Stargarde shook her head gently. “Do you care to tell me how you get on with Mrs. Colonibel?”
“We rarely come in contact,” said Vivienne; “we have nothing in common.”
“You do not like her,” said Stargarde sadly; “I know you do not; yet have patience with her, my child. There is a woman who has lived half her life and has not learned its lesson yet. She cannot bear to be contra—opposed; she will have her own way.”
Some hidden emotion caused Stargarde’s face to contract painfully, and Vivienne seeing it said generously, “Let us make some excuse for her. She has reigned here for some years, has she not?”
“Yes; ever since her husband died.”
“And she is jealous of all interference?”
“Yes; and she looks upon you as a usurper. Be as patient as you can with her, dear child, for she thinks that Stanton’s object in bringing you here is to make you mistress over her head.”
“Do you mean that I should become the housekeeper here?”
“Yes; I do.”
Vivienne started. “Oh, I am only here for a short time; I could not think of remaining.” Stargarde looked at her affectionately and with some curiosity, and seeing this the girl went on hastily, “Mrs. Colonibel’s husband is dead, is he not?”
“Yes; he was much older than she was.”
“And her stay here depends upon her cousin, Mr. Armour?”
“Yes; he gives her a handsome salary.”
“It is rather surprising then that she does not try to please him in every respect.”
Stargarde’s eyes lighted up with brilliant indignation. “You bring me to one of my hobbies,” she exclaimed. “I think that if there is one class of people on whom the wrath of God rests more heavily than on others,