ACROSS THE SEA
Some weeks later Armour and his wife, with Judy and Mr. Delavigne,
installed themselves in a suite of apartments in the principal hotel of
a gray old English town. Outside Armour’s room ran a narrow iron
balcony, and on this balcony he stood one evening, his hands behind his
back, his face upturned to the sky.
“What star are your thoughts on?” asked Vivienne softly, as she came to
the open window.
“One called Vivienne; won’t you come out?” he said. “It is very warm.”
“It seems to me that you think a very great deal about that star,” she
said roguishly as she accepted the mute invitation of his arm to come
and stand beside him.
He wrapped her white-furred dressing gown more closely about her and
stowed her long hair in a hood at the back of it. “Now I can see your
face. Why should I not think of you, Vivienne? You are a constant source
of interest to me with your pretty feminine ways. I don’t think women
understand how odd it is for a man who has always lived to himself to
have some woman about him with her constant care of him, and her
questions as to why he does this thing and that thing and what he is
thinking about.”
Vivienne laughed merrily. “Is that why you watch me with such profound
interest when I mend your gloves, and why you looked at me in such
surprise when I went to your rescue the other day as you struggled with
an obstinate necktie?”
“Yes; you are a very fearful and wonderful creation to me at all times;
but when I think of you with all your attributes you are a mystery.”
“You are not a mystery to me,” said Vivienne. “I understand you and I am
satisfied. Over there is a rookery, Stanton. In the morning you will
hear such a cawing.”
“And yonder is the school where you used to sit and look over the trees
toward Canada?”
“Yes, Stanton.”
“And read my brief, cold letters, darling? I wish I had known what I
know now. How differently I should have written.”
“Yes, I used to read them there, but they did not worry me so very
much.”
“And it was there,” he said, “that you, one year ago, put up the
photograph to send to me that was to make such a change in my life.”
“Yes, my dear husband, it was. Madame Dubois and I were spending the
summer here.”
“I have never told you of the day that I received it, Vivienne. I was
exceedingly busy, and in the midst of my rush of work I unfastened the
string on the cardboard, and there was your face looking serenely at me.
I was completely upset by your surprising likeness to your father, and
at once the project of having you come to Canada flashed into my mind. I
thought, surely if my father were confronted with you, the daughter of a
woman that he had virtually murdered—for I believe if it had not been
for him your mother would be alive to-day—his toughened conscience would
be touched.”
“What became of the photograph? You have never told me.”
Armour blushed slightly. “I am ashamed to say that I tore it up. I
almost hated you in those days; for I thought if the Delavignes had
never been born, my father would not have been tempted to commit the
crime of his life. I would give a thousand dollars to have it again.”
“Five shillings will get you one,” said Vivienne lightly. “We will visit
the photographer to-morrow, and I will order one like it.”
Armour was silent for a time. Then he said thoughtfully, “I wonder how
affairs are going on at home.”
“We know that Stargarde goes to the cottage every day to weep and pray
beside your father,” said Vivienne softly, “and Flora is happy with the
housekeeping, and Valentine practises—ah, Stanton, that first Sunday he
sang in church, when he stood beside the organ and raised his calm face
to sing ‘Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden,’ I could
not keep back the tears. How glad he will be to have us home again."
“How long do you wish to stay away, Vivienne?” asked Armour.
“Until you are happy in returning.”
“I could go back to-morrow.”
“Stanton!” and she looked up at his face which was illumined by the
gaslight from the room behind.
“Yes,” he said firmly. “I see now that there is no place to retrieve a
lost reputation like one’s own home. If acquaintances of long standing
are more curious and critical than strangers they are also more
compassionate. The people of Halifax are my people. My father has sinned
among them and among them will I endeavor, God helping me, to make what
amendment I can for his sins, and for my own sins of pride and
obstinacy, and begin my new life where I lived the old.”
Vivienne surveyed him in passionate affection. “I thank heaven every day
of my life that I have married a man who is strong enough to acknowledge
his weakness, and who knows where to look for aid. Ah, the Divine
guidance, Stanton, what should we do without it?” And standing with her
hand in her husband’s, she repeated slowly the words of one of her
beloved Canadian poets:
"Forever constant to the good
Still arm our faith, thou Guard sublime,
To scorn, like all who’ve understood,
The atheist dangers of the time.
“Thou hearest! Lo, we feel our love
Of loyal thoughts and actions free
Tow’rd all divine achievement move,
Ennobled, blest, ensured, by Thee.”
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Transcriber’s Note
Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and
are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original.
The following issues should be noted, along with the resolutions.
23.28 I have been mis[in]formed about Canada. Added.
77.29 she turned toward the staircase[.] Added.
94.14 she said quietly[.] Added.
111.14 the d[u/e]luge arrived. Replaced.
128.24 asked Mr. Armour soberly[,/.] Replaced.
129.2 for some of my children[,/.]" Replaced.
130.6 Just Brian[’s] Camperdown’s age; Removed.
143.26 is full of blood to me[.] Added.
155.6 [“]She had no rags to conceal it among,” Added.
191.24 Then he said aloud[./,] Replaced.
201.9 to the we[e/a]k-kneed drunkard Replaced.
203.20 “I must send some one to look for him.[”] Added.
208.17 of their excellent presence, and——[’]” Added.
282.25 “I hope that you are not feverish.[”] Added.
369.11 the supreme control of our ménage?[’/”] Replaced.
416.7 [“]That will tickle her palate Added.
423.21 contin[u]ed MacDaly. Added.
440.23 “Have you sent for Dr. Camperdown?[’/”] Replaced.
451.27 she was fond of singing[,/.] Replaced.
471.20 Miss Turner, compose you[r]self Added.
492.27 who had gone shopping with her.[”] Removed.
508.25 Lord and Lady Vaulabel do not expect it.[”] Added.
516.29 The D[a/e]lavignes continued to lend Replaced.
535.12 Why did he wish to get rid of him?[”] Added.
541.28 said Vivienne softly, [“]and Flora is happy Added.
237.22 gallantly resisted the bes[ei/ie]ging force Transposed.
End of Project Gutenberg's The House of Armour, by Marshall Saunders