“Suppose instead of being straight and tall and distinguished-looking, you were an ugly little toad like me—how would you talk?”
“You have beautiful eyes,” said Vivienne, touching Judy’s cheek softly with her fingers.
“Don’t you pity me,” said Judy threateningly. “Don’t you pity me or I shall cry,” and slipping on her knees beside Vivienne she burst into tears.
CHAPTER VI
MRS. COLONIBEL LOSES HER TEMPER
Early in the afternoon Vivienne was on her knees before her boxes when a housemaid knocked at her door and announced to her that there was a “person” downstairs who wished to see her.
Quickly descending the staircase she found Mrs. Macartney looking longingly at those chairs in the hall that were most comfortably upholstered. As soon as she caught sight of Vivienne she sank into a Turkish arm-chair that was all cushions and padding.
“I’m glad to see you, me child,” she said in a hearty, boisterous way. “Sure”—with a mischievous twinkle in her eye—"your friends must be a disreputable set, for when I mentioned your name the domestic looked as if she’d like to shut the door in me face, and there’s another watching me from behind those curtains, so I thought to myself I’ll not sit down, for fear of complications, till me dear girl arrives."
Vivienne suppressed a smile as she glanced over the somewhat fantastic attire with which Mrs. Macartney bade defiance to the Canadian cold and said, “Will you come into the drawing room?”
“Yes, me dear,” said Mrs. Macartney amiably, getting up and waddling across the hall, “if you’ll kindly keep an eye on me and see that I don’t put any of the bric-a-brac in my pocket. And how do you find yourself after the voyage? Could you help me out of this jacket, me dear? I’m hot with the cold. Just like bakers’ ovens are the houses here, and if I had a fan I’d be grateful indeed.”
Vivienne got her a fan, then they entered upon a a long, cozy chat, which consisted largely, to Vivienne’s amusement, of Mrs. Macartney’s impressions of Halifax.