"No: lovey-dovey darling—don't tease and don't be uncharitable—you are much too beautiful to be a cat. Some day that girl will burst forth upon us all in the glory of fame."
"Clem, you are infatuated."
"You'll see," said Clem. "Only be patient and kind—I must really go and see what cook has for lunch. If she gives us curried mutton once more and stewed guavas and custard, Billy will calmly proceed to bust."
She escaped.
CHAPTER XXV
MRS. PORTAL knew that Poppy was working as for her life, but she did not know why. 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; but hope did not rise very high. She was fond of quoting that saying:
"The things that are really for thee gravitate to thee. Everything that belongs to thee for aid or comfort shall surely come home through open or winding passages. Every friend whom not thy fantastic will but the great and tender heart in thee craveth, shall lock thee in his embrace."
—and she would have liked to believe it, but Life had taught her differently. In the meantime, in so far as she was able, she watched faithfully and anxiously over Poppy's destiny, dragging her from her desk when the lilac eyes grew heavy and the tinted face too pale for health; making up gay little parties to drive or walk or go to the theatre, arranging merry dinners and excursions—anything that would distract, and presently bring back vivacity and strength, and renew courage.