“Poor Vivienne,” said Stargarde.
“Happy Vivienne; she enjoys herself. It’s marvelous to see the coolness with which she treats Flora—the right line of conduct to adopt. If she were meek and humble, Flora would impose upon her shamefully. They’re going to have some lively times at Pinewood, and that girl will be the leading spirit. I suppose you’ve noticed that Stanton is taking rather more interest than usual in her?”
“Yes; take care, Brian; take care. You are playing at match-making, and it is a dangerous game.”
“Well,” stoutly, “as you women nowadays are so busy attending to departments of public good, what is there for men to do but take up the private ones, such as the making of marriages? Don’t alarm yourself though, I don’t do much; only say a word now and then.”
“But your words have weight.”
“I am glad they have,” sarcastically, “with some people.”
“In your zeal for Stanton’s interests I hope you will do nothing to bias Vivienne; she may fancy Valentine.”
“Is thy servant a sneak?” he asked in an injured tone of voice. “And that is Stanton’s affair, not mine. He will be as just as the Lord Chancellor; but ma’m’selle doesn’t love Valentine. He’s too young; Stanton is just the age for her; he isn’t so old as his years. He got frozen when he was a lad, and has stayed frozen ever since. Frost preserves you know. I want to see him melt now, and dance for some woman the way the rest of us do.”
“Brian, it makes me nervous to hear you planning so surely on a thing that may never come to pass.”
“Stanton is all right,” he continued, rather as if he were soliloquizing; “but you women are uncertain qualities. That he will fall in love with her is a foregone conclusion. He rarely goes anywhere; never has been brought into intimacy with any woman for any length of time; propinquity makes a man either hate or love a woman. He’s disliked her long enough; can’t keep it up. There will be a tremendous rebound that will nearly shake the life out of him; but will she reciprocate?”