Cynthia Stockley

“ A wave of grateful warmth rushed over the girl at his words. Her eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you; thank you!" she cried brokenly; and added, on a swift impulse: "The fire I want seems to me the most wonderful in the world—and if I can't be there, I'll never sit by any other."
She did not attempt to stanch her tears, but sat looking at him with a smiling mouth, while the heavy drops fell down her cheeks. Bramham thought that, because of the smile, he had never seen any woman look so tragic in his life.
"Don't cry; don't cry, dear!" he said distressfully. "I can't bear to see a woman cry. ”

“ In the dim valley a Zulu boy, heart-hungry for his home-kraal, was making music of an infinite sweetness and melancholy on that oldest instrument in the world, a reed-flute. The sound brought further tears to Poppy, and a burning in her throat. It seemed the voice of her heart wailing, because she had never been a child, because "earth was so beautiful and Heaven so far"; because she loved a man and was beloved of him and darkness lay between them! At that, she longed passionately with every sense and nerve in her for Evelyn Carson. ”

“ Bramham had missed his cue and his broad shoulders took on a somewhat sullen expression. Poppy had the hopeless feeling that she had lost a lover without finding a friend, and the thought filled her with sadness. Only God and she knew how much she needed a friend; and she was sure she could find no stronger, firmer rock to her back than this big, kind man, if she could only get him away from these shoals of emotion on to the firm ground of friendship.
But Bramham was sighing sulkily, and flipping with his forefinger at the end of his cigar, as though he had no further use for it. ”

“ I am a child of passionate Africa, Clem ... the blood in my veins runs as hot and red as the colour of a poppy.... It is an awful thing to look into the eyes of a man you do not love and see passion staring there—and feel it urging in your own veins, too. It is an awful thing to know what it is that he is silently demanding, and what that basely answers in your own nature.... ”

“ Miss Cornell became languid.
"I get an enormous salary, and I have more work than I know how to get through already. Indeed, I am trying to get an assistant."
"Really?" said the other girl. "I wonder if I would suit you?"
"You!" Miss Cornell's face lit up with sudden interest and eagerness. She surveyed the other again. Of course, she was only a "hard-up" girl looking for work, and that air of gentle insolence that Sophie had been conscious of, was, after all, only "side" stuck on like the rose in the front of the simple black gown to hide poverty. ”

“ But only the lesser part of Poppy Destin was there. The spirit of her wandered in a moonlit Natal garden, listening to a voice with a rustle in it, and from thence ... far, far!
Afterwards, she reconstructed all the chapters of her life since the magic night that began so wonderfully and ended in despair with the uttering of another woman's name. Of that woman—Loraine, she thought little now, having fought down and killed the bitter hatred of her, as once she had wished to kill the woman. There was no room in her awakened heart for hatred—only Love could be there. ”

“ The sun still glared, but the place was full of dim coolness, for its roof was massed with clematis and Virginia creeper, and heavy curtains of creeper hung from roof to rail; but long openings had been cut in the greenery to afford a view of the town and sea. Over the tops of the trees, far away below, beyond many white houses and gardens and a shining beach, was the Indian Ocean. It lay very still and splendid: a vast sheet of Sèvres enamel with a trivial frill of white at its edges, like the lace froth at the bottom of a woman's ball-gown. ”

“ He told himself then, that they were the eyes of a girl who had come to a bad bit of the road, and though she had wonderfully changed in a few days, his professional eye, blurred though it was, saw still on her the traces of stress and storm. Now, Maurice Newnham knew all about bad bits of the road. He had stumbled through muddy and broken places himself, and seen others do the same; some dying in the holes they had made, some lying down by the wayside with no heart to start afresh. His keen instinct for a fellow-stumbler was the only instinct he had not deliberately blunted. ”

“ Circumstance sometimes threw them together in the verandahs or out under the Southern-Cross flaming above the garden, and Poppy's low laugh might be heard mingling with his voice; but she did not always laugh because she was amused.
Carson's silver tongue could take on an amazingly sharp edge. Being an Irishman, he was a law unto himself, with a fine taste for unconventionality in other people. But if he knew South Africa from one end to the other, he also knew men and cities, and the rules that govern women all the world over. ”

“ She turned white and began to tremble. "How fearful one is! I have been so fearful always for Bill ... that I have never even dared show him how much I care. I always think if I am silent, silent, silent ... never bragging, never telling of my soul's idolatry, God will be merciful to me." She was trembling like a leaf, and stammering with pallid lips—this calm, well-masked, self-possessed woman of the world. Never before had any woman's eyes seen past the barriers into the inmost chapel of Clem Portal's heart. ”

“ Evelyn Carson's son was born in the dawn of a late October day: heralded in by Big Ben striking the hour of five. Poppy gave one long, ravished glance at the little dimpled morsel, with its sleek, black head and features like crumpled rose-leaves, then lay back content and at peace with all the world.
"How sweet it is to be a woman!" she thought, forgetting all past pain and despair, all anguish to come. "My heart can never be a stone again, nor my soul a shrivelled leaf." ”

“ Evening is a pleasant time in Natal, and the Portals' moonlit gardens and lawns and long verandahs lent themselves agreeably to strolling people, tired of the clang and glare of the day. With someone always at the piano to sprinkle the still air with melody, it was pleasant to saunter, the dew in your hair and all the sounds of the night-things about you, while you talked with someone whose interest interested you, or gossiped of life as it could, or would, or might be, or of "Home," meaning England, which through the glamour of an African night seems the moon of all men's Desire. ”

“ At last Carson was enlightened. He was, in fact, in the pleasant company of Miss Sophie Cornell.
"Ah! yes, of course—I remember quite well," said he. Indeed, if she could but have known it, he remembered a good deal more than was flattering, for Bram's tale of highway-robbery was still clear in his mind. She had changed a good deal since then: grown coarser and more florid—and there were other things—! When a woman has flung her kisses to the world as generously as summer flings daisies in a green meadow, the tale of them is marked upon her face for all who run to read. ”

“ For some unknown reason the girl felt these ambitions very much alive in her that afternoon. Clementine Portal sat like a creature entranced, with her lips slightly apart. When Poppy had given her, upon urgent requesting—a halting, eloquent outline of her novel, Clem said:
"I know it will be good.... I can feel that it will have big bits of open space like the veldt in it, with new sorts of trees growing by the wayside as one passes along.... I hate the modern woman's book, because it always makes me gasp for air. It is too full of the fire that burns up all there is in life." ”

“ One of the first people they saw on entering was Mary Capron, standing in the centre of the ball-room, a little crowd of people about her, supremely beautiful in black lace and diamonds. She came over to them at once with a little loving pat of welcome for Clem and a brilliant smile for the others. She half extended her hand to Poppy, in friendliness; but Poppy turned away from her. She could not welcome the touch of a hand that had smitten happiness out of her life. They all moved down the big ball-room together. ”

“ That girl is straight! Pure as the untrodden snow! I had better cut my throat."
However, he did not.
Poppy, lying on her face in her cabin, was tasting shame. Bitter-sweet, mysterious, terrifying knowledge was hers at last—and with it was shame. Shame that the knowledge should come to her from profane and guilty lips! Shame that the child of the king of her heart should be unworthily born; that a king's child should be robbed of its kingdom; that the mother of her child should be one to whom men might throw vile words. ”

“ Gruyère.
"There is a form of colour-blindness that makes its victim see everything black!" said Mrs. Capron drily. Mrs. Gruyère sniffed again.
"You need be colour-blind when you look at his eyes," she said unpleasantly; "but some people have a morbid liking for deformity."
They all looked astonished.
"Deformity!" cried Mrs. Capron; "why, everybody admires his striking eyes!"
"And, dear lady," said Abinger, with great tendresse, "do you really suppose that the colour of Carson's eyes has anything to do with it? It's the flame inside him that draws us and scorches us. ”

“ Something of scorn presently mingled with the shrewdness of the look he cast at Carson. He searched the dark face that had so much in it that was fine and lovable, and yet was marked with sins. But whatever Carson's sins were they did not give him peace. He did not grow sleek on them. He had the weary mouth and haggard eyes of the man with the dual nature, a finer self perpetually at war with a baser, sometimes winning, sometimes losing—but always striving. Scorn left Bramham's look and affectionate loyalty came back.
"You can't hate a fellow like that," he thought. ”

“ If your mother has laid her heart in a man's hands, and her neck under a man's feet, and died for want of his kisses on her mouth, she, too, will have had something to bequeath: a cheek curved for caresses, lips amorously shaped, and sweet warm blood in the veins.
And there was more that Poppy Destin did not know. She was only eighteen and could not know all her gifts yet—some women never know them at all until they are too old to use them! She had unwittingly left uncounted her biggest asset, though it was signed and sealed upon her face—the sign and seal of Ireland. ”

“ Poppy laughed bitterly at the lame ending.
"The difference lies deeper than that ... you are generous, Clem, but truth is truth, and I should like to speak it to you now and always ... confession has no attractions for me, and I once told a man I should never confess to a woman——"
"Silence is always best, dear," Clem said. "When a woman learns to be silent about herself, she gains power that nothing else can give her. And words can forge themselves into such terrible weapons to be used against one—sometimes by hands we love." ”

“ Poppy sat paling and reddening before her, speechless with confusion.
"Ah, my dear, you needn't mind me," said Miss Drake kindly. "I've lived among 'theatricals' all my days, and I know what life is for a lovely girl like you—and I can see you're a good girl, too!"
Poppy got up and walked away to the window, so unnerved she knew not what to do or say. The kind woman's words threw her into a state of misery. She had no idea that her secret was shared by others yet. ”

“ Through the trees of the garden Poppy could hear the world go buzzing by—the grating of the tram-cars on the lines, the clatter of horses, and the hiss of wheels going down hill, and an occasional street cry. No one ever came down the little pathway. Only the click of the machine, the voices of Zambani and Piccanin, busy with the pots and the pans in the kitchen and yard, broke the silence ”

“ I have died many deaths ... you can never know how I have suffered ... pure women don't know what suffering there is in the world, it is no use pretending they do ... they are wonderful, they shine.... O! what wouldn't we give to shine with that lovely cold, pure glow ... but they can't take from us what our misery has bought."
"Poppy, don't tell me anything," the older woman said steadily. "I don't want to know ... whatever Life has made you do, or think, or say ... I don't care! I love you. I am your friend. I know that the root of you is sound. Who am I that I should sit in judgment? ”

“ Only, sometimes, out of the deep love and sympathy she felt for the girl, she longed to know the truth. The truth was far even from her far-seeing eyes.
She believed that there must be a man somewhere in the world whom Poppy loved, for well she knew that such a wound as Poppy hid could only have been dealt by a man's unerring hand—and none but a loved hand could strike so deep! With all the mystical-religious, loving side of her nature, Clem prayed that life might yet do well by her friend and give her her heart's desire ”

“ The whole family used to creep into the room and stand round the cot, while Poppy sat there with Ina's hand in hers, whispering songs between the bars of the cot, while her head felt as though there were long sharp needles running through it, and her throat and body were full of horrible pains. Sometimes the room seemed all cloudy and she only faintly saw dead faces through the dimness; Ina and she whispering together seemed to be the only alive people in the world. ”