Clem was quick to see the meaning of this. A look of disappointment came over her gay, gentle face.
"Mary and I have been friends for years," she said. "She is the only woman I have never had any inspiration about; but though I am blinded by her beauty, I know her to be good and true. It would be a terribly disloyal thing if I deserted her for you ... what am I to do if you two don't like each other?"
"If you love Mrs. Capron, Clem, she won't need to bother about the liking of a woman like me."
"She likes you, however. And I'm sure when you get to know her better, you'll like her.... I daresay when two beautiful women first meet, a feeling of antagonism is natural. But you should be above that, Poppy. And poor Mary is a subject for pity rather than dislike—any woman is who has drawn blank in the big lottery. I daresay you know that about her—most people do."
"I have gathered that she is not very happily married," said Poppy.
"Have you ever seen him?"
"I believe the first time I ever saw you, Clem, he was with you."
"Ah, yes, I remember now—and we talked of you, the girl with the Burne-Jones eyes." Most women would have made this an easy stepping-stone into the flowing brook of confidences, and found out where Poppy was going to on that sunny day, and where she had been all the long years since; but Clem Portal had an instinct about questions that hurt. Her husband often said of her:
"She is that lovely thing—a close woman!" Now, the peculiarity of a close woman is that she neither probes into the dark deeps of others, nor allows herself to be probed.
"Nick Capron was not quite impossible in those days," she continued; "but now a good place for him would be under the débris heaps outside de Beers'. When she first met him he was a romantic character on the down-grade. Had been all over the world and gone through every kind of adventure; lost a fortune at Monte-Carlo on a system of his own for breaking the bank; written a book (or more probably got it written for him) about his adventures as a cowboy in Texas; and made quite a name for himself as a scout in the war between Chili and Peru. Amongst other things he has an intimate knowledge of torpedoes and is supposed to have been the author of the plan that sent the Chilian transport, the Loa, to the bottom by a torpedo launched from an apparently harmless fruit-boat. At any rate, he was seen on the fruit-boat, and when he came to Africa shortly afterwards, they said it was to escape the vengeance of the Chilians. Mary, who was on a visit to this country, met him at the Cape when everyone was talking about him. Unfortunately, when women hear sparkling things about a man, they do not always think to inquire about the sparkling things he drinks—and how much that has to do with the matter. She fell in love with him, or his reputation, and they were married in a great whirl of romantic emotion. Well, you know what happens to people who engage in whirling?"