“To think of all these beautiful things in our own America!” exclaimed Shirley. “And you, Mr. Armitage,—”
“Among the other curios, Miss Claiborne,” laughed John, taking her hand.
“But I haven’t introduced you yet”—began Mrs. Sanderson, puzzled.
“No; the King Edward did that. We crossed together. Oh, Monsieur Chauvenet, let me present Mr. Armitage,” said Shirley, seeing that the men had not spoken.
The situation amused Armitage and he smiled rather more broadly than was necessary in expressing his pleasure at meeting Monsieur Chauvenet. They regarded each other with the swift intentness of men who are used to the sharp exercise of their eyes; and when Armitage turned toward Shirley and Mrs. Sanderson, he was aware that Chauvenet continued to regard him with fixed gaze.
“Miss Claiborne is a wonderful sailor; the Atlantic is a little tumultuous at times in the spring, but she reported to the captain every day.”
“Miss Claiborne is nothing if not extraordinary,” declared Mrs. Sanderson with frank admiration.
“The word seems to have been coined for her,” said Chauvenet, his white teeth showing under his thin black mustache.
“And still leaves the language distinguished chiefly for its poverty,” added Armitage; and the men bowed to Shirley and then to Mrs. Sanderson, and again to each other. It was like a rehearsal of some trifle in a comedy.
“How charming!” laughed Mrs. Sanderson. “And this lovely room is just the place for it.”