“I don’t see how she can help it,” said Stargarde impulsively; and the mere thought of Stanton beloved and happy, touched her tender heart and filled her eyes with tears.
“Nor I,” said Camperdown, with mock enthusiasm. “Such a sweet and tender bit of marble as he is! Such a loving block of wood! But you women like such creatures.”
Stargarde paid no attention to him. “And Valentine too,” she went on earnestly, “I do wish that he could fall under the influence of some good girl.”
“If he wants a good girl let him be a good boy,” coolly. “That’s your own doctrine, Stargarde. Pray don’t make an exception in favor of Valentine, when you’ve been so firm with the rest of the world. You’re one of the new women, you know. ‘A white life for two,’ isn’t that your motto? Same thorny path of virtue for men and women.”
“Not thorny, Brian.”
“Sometimes I’ve found it so. Just think of all the pleasant little dissipations I might have had if you hadn’t been watching me with that lynx eye of yours. No use to come to you and say, ‘Dear creature, will you take a tenth place in my affections, after cards, wine, and other things not worth mentioning?’ I know what’s in your mind now. You’re a true woman and have a sneaking fondness for vagabonds. You love Stanton; but you think he’s a strong man and can stand alone. You adore Valentine, and if either brother gets ma’m’selle, you think it should be the weakling, whose tottering footsteps need guidance. Come now, tell me, would you give the French girl to Valentine if it depended on you?”
She hesitated. “Not as he is now; but we are commanded to forgive those who repent.”
“Repent; nonsense, my dar—my dear Miss Turner. Can repentance change the corpuscles in a man’s blood? He sha’n’t have her, dissipated young scamp that he is. You wouldn’t allow it yourself if it came to the pinch. No; let ma’m’selle shake him out of his abominable state of self-complacency, if you will, but no marriage. A sisterly affection is what she must bestow upon him. She’ll tell him some wholesome truths if she gets to know him better. I hope she may. He’s been stepping over thorns all his life. I’d like to see him lie down now, and have a good roll in them.”
“Brian!” and Stargarde looked appealingly into the piercing eyes of her tormentor and lover.
“It would do him good,” he said, “and we’d help to dress his wounds afterward. And the little French girl would be amiable enough to help to give consolation.”