Fearing that they would insist upon her dancing the cotillon if she made known her presence, Poppea remained behind the curtain, and they, evidently in search of air also, seated themselves near by on a low divan. Presently the sound of her own name made Poppea regret her action, but it was already too late.
Mrs. Hewlett. "Well, Miss Gilbert has certainly achieved a great success; what a social institution she has become in a few months!"
The Widow. "Yes, but she will cease to be as quickly as she has achieved; the very fact that we have admired her so much this winter is the reason why no one will want her next."
Gloria's mother. "I'm not so sure of that, Hortense; I only wish that I could be. I'm afraid she's come to stay, or thinks she has as far as the men are concerned; they all take her so seriously. My Johnnie had the folly to say this morning that as soon as he was a senior he should offer himself, and you know very well that your cousin Bradish won't let us say a word about her in his presence. Why didn't the Feltons have better sense than to take her into their family, a less than nobody? It puts the whole thing upon a semisocial footing: otherwise we need not have recognized her except by the envelope with the check in it."
Mrs. Hewlett. "I think you are a little hard on her, Charlotte; she's a very sweet girl and not responsible for her origin, or rather lack of it, though of course it would be deplorable if she should marry one of our sons."
The Widow. "I think I'll put it into some rich old rascal's head to offer to put up for her training abroad for an operatic career: she'll surely jump at that bait. Possibly even Brad might work himself up to that extent; in fact, I think it's a case when he would put himself out to any degree short of matrimony, which proves her dangerous, for if Brad will go so far, others less seasoned will go the whole ribbon. She's probably got a lot of magnetic bad blood beneath her baby skin. Think of her art and craft in dropping into Robin Adair to-night after that Frenchy rigmarole. Yes, she's got all the born wit of an adventuress, and she must go before she outwits us."
Mrs. Hewlett. "I had never thought of her in that light, before, but of course it may be so, and no mother wishes her sons to—"
They go on to the ball-room. Poppea clings to the curtain for support, her hand showing her hiding-place to Winslow, who has come through an opposite curtain with a plate and a glass of champagne.