Marshall Saunders - The House of Armour

“Did I startle you? Forgive me, I was too demonstrative; but do you know, I fell in love with you before I saw you?”

“Did you?” responded Vivienne, then turning to Mr. Armour, who was loitering about the door as if uncertain whether to come in or not, she invited him to sit down.

“Is your cold any better?” he asked stiffly as he came in.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied. “Dr. Camperdown is driving it away.”

“Stanton,” exclaimed Vivienne’s beautiful visitor, flashing a smile at him, “why don’t you introduce me?”

“I thought it scarcely necessary,” he said, his glance brightening as he turned from Vivienne to her, “after the warmth of your greeting. Yet, if you wish it—this, Miss Delavigne, is our friend Miss Stargarde Turner–”

“Of Rockland Street,” she added gravely.

Vivienne tried to hide her astonishment. This woman looked like an aristocrat. Could it be that she lived in one of the worst streets of the city?

Stargarde smiled as if reading her thoughts. “It isn’t so bad as you think,” she said consolingly. “Wait till you see it.” Then she turned to reply to a sharply interjected question by Judy.

While her attention was distracted from her, Vivienne’s glance wandered in quiet appreciation over the classic profile and statuesque figure of her guest as she sat slightly bent forward with hands clasped over her knees, her loose draperies encircling her and making her look like one of the Greek statues, rows and rows of which the girl had seen in foreign art galleries.

Who was she? What was she? And how did it happen that she had the extraordinary strength of mind to dress and comport herself so differently from the ordinary woman of the world? There was about her also a radiance that she had never before seen in the face of any human being. She did not understand then as she did later on that it was the spirit of love that glorified Stargarde Turner’s face. Her great heart beat only for others. She was so permeated and suffused with a sweet charity toward all men that it shone constantly out of every line of her beautiful countenance.

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.”