Poppy

rickshaw and gazed with fascinated eyes at the moving pic

n image of itself in the high ardent blue. Men in loose white ducks and fla

eld out long-stalked roses and sprays of fragrant mimosa to the passers-by, beguiling them to buy. Coolies with baskets of fish on their heads and bunches of ba

shad! Nice

hem on the dusty road, sending up a heavy odour of wet earth which the girl snuffe

rica," she cried softly to herself, laughing a little. Her eyes t

spraying little veils of itself over her eyes and almost touching her cheek-bone

ion that paled the other women in the street and made

rfectly composed under the swathes of white chiffon which she wore flung back over her wi

e seed bangles round his ankles, became conscious that his fare was creating interest. He began to put on airs, giving little sh

dged words in Zulu that made him change his manners

as a disconcerting thing that an Inkosizaan who had come straight off the mail

Hill, which is long and sloping, causing

th open to the breeze and full of people. The road began to be edged with fenced and

o the rickshaw-p

told you where to go.

it was still afar off-righ

expected one. A malicious, mischievous smile flashed across her face as she sat thinking of the annoyance o

stake, he stood stammering with anger. But she had flashed into a waiting rickshaw, knowing ve

self. He had indeed told her in a low voice to get out and come back with him to wa

y in a rickshaw. I have never

nded, and turned his back on her. She had calle

uce; but what i

erself now, still smiling; "but

ng her subtle smile through her spraying h

the man sai

kes the shine

casual distinguished manner, agreed wit

dressed like a Beardsley poster; but I think she is only a girl who is

Burne-Jones eyes," and kne

ees and trees. Some of the trees were so tall and old that they must have been growing there when Vasco da Gama first found Natal; but there were mangoes and sweetly-smelling orange arbours, that could only have been planted a mere twenty or thirty years. The magnolia bushes were in bud, and clots of

ed house, its balconies and verandahs, too, all draped and veiled with clinging green. One l

ck it in the bosom of her gown, w

e rang

ured woman in a tight dress of navy-blue sateen with large white spots. Upon her head she wore a snowy dook.

sent for Luce! What time did the stea

ie," said the girl grimly. "The only thing

e girl examined the hall, and opening the door

d of Kykie's voice, she stepped down them and found herself in a large white-washed kitchen lined with spotless deal tables and broad shelves. An enormous

and driven them forth, had sunk into a chair again, panting, with her

can't escape the wrath to come; what is the use

heavenwards; the whites of

me at the shipping office the steamer would

the kitchen, look

the farm, haven't you, Kykie? But it is a much bigger kitch

ecame ornament

s good as anyone

ys likes mine best. Come upst

eamed Kykie, and jumping up she ran to

y, going towards the door, "and I think

ing her everything and bombarding her with questions; but now she was in the clutches of despair and dismay at the thought of her ne

spotless dook. Her real name, as she often informed Poppy in aggrieved accents, was Celia Frances Elizabeth of Teck Fortune; but Luce Abinger had brutally named her Kykie, and that was all she was ever called in his house. By way of retaliation it was her agreeable custom to address her master and Poppy Destin by their Christian names

luptuous bosom was big for Luce Abinger and all that pertained to him. She had served him during

She took off her hat and surveyed the room with contentment. Her cushions were in her chairs; her books in their accustomed book-shelves; her long mirror with the slim gilt frame hung between two windows that gave upon the balcony;

a maid fr

herself, done in grey and blue and scarlet chalk on sheets of rough-edged common

d with green leaves-no flowers. Kykie and the boys k

e gold side-combs and ran them through it, until it branched out characteristically once more. She performed this c

in that fascinating way that just suits my face! If it were any other kind

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 th

and the best of them all was that she was back once more

een lawns. He saw her dreaming there, in her white gown with the scarlet flower flaming at her breast, and his tormen

eating and jangling his forks together, a habit of his when he was impatient. He never touched his knive

ou," he began agreeably. "Were you afrai

u were in, and I never heard a sound of th

n a dynamitic explosion. Her dook was pushed to the back of her head, her eyes stuck out, and pers

er hear anything you don't want to, Poppy." With that sh

as really wondering was, whether the fireworks had all been exhausted on Kykie's

ft, swift hands. Poppy gave an inquiring glance at him; but though he had also received a gene

ll, followed by cutlets and green peas, and a salad of sliced A

a good salad-a spendthrift for the oil, a miser for the vinegar, a counsellor for the salt, and a lunatic to stir all up. It appeared that she sometimes fell

her own, she both felt compassion and exhibited courtesy in the presence of other people's. She never looked at Luce Abinger's face at any time if she could help it, for the sight of unbeautiful things always gave her intense pain; and his face had the added terror and sadness of a thing that has once been beautiful. Its right side was still strong and fine in line; and it was easy to see that the mouth, before it was dragged out of drawing by the scar and embittered and distorted by its frightful sneer, must have been wonder

and she lighted the spirit-lamp under it and made the coffee as she was always

Then, getting up suddenly, he bit off a word of apology with

deep comfortable chairs. From thence she presently saw Abinger emerge from the front door and depart into the garden; the closing clang of the gate told her that he had gon

er that returning to Africa meant to him returning to purgatory; especially since he did not intend to go back to seclusion, but to take up his residence in this house in Durban, where he had often lived in past years. Poppy had gathered from Kykie that before he "got his mark," as she curiously expressed it, and went to live at the old whi

simpler and easier to have settled in Italy or somewhere where he knew no one, and would not be noticed so much. It ca

room behind her clearing the luncheon-table, and talking to each other in their

?" asked Umzibu; and Babiyaa

b to make a meeting with I

loyalty and secrecy in these matters outside your own walls. Abroad from home their eyes and ears and tongue know nothi

m like his own skin. Sometimes the name is a mere mentioning of a physical characteristic but usually it is a thing more subtle-some pecu

civilised peoples they have a fine set of instincts; an intuition leads them to nearly the same conclusions about people as would a trained reasoning power. Only that the

cating gesture. Being questioned, they would look blank; being told to get out and go to the devil, they would look modest. Afterwards they would exchange swift dark glances, and smiling, repeat among themselves with a gesture of stabbing: "Shlalaimbona!" Literally this word means-stab when

tter servants," was his command; and in this, as

o give interesting i

n hotel to drink. Then Umkoomata made a plan for meeting at the Ker-luk when Intandugaza would be there and others-Baas Brookifield, he with the curled ha

municated the fact by sign to Babiyaan, and a silence fell. Thereafter no more confidences; Poppy was left to speculate upon the identity of the person w

able, literally Sturdy One. I should

d revel in the thought that she would soon have her foot on her own land again. The excitement of the day had tired her more than she knew. When she looked in her

n her hair with a rush and pulling her chair opposite her mirror, she sat down in

ing her bare pale arms and shoulders, and the tall pale throat above them, so slim and young. Indeed, the

some man's eyes. Always she looked to wonder. The transformation of herself from what she had been only six years ago to what she was now at eighteen, never ceased to fascinate and amaze her. When she thought of the tormented, tragic features she had feared to catch a glimpse of, and looked now into that narrow scarlet-lipped, lilac-eyed subtle

ducation, she had been able to watch with her own eyes the change of the fam

of consolation to lave her wounds and her weary heart, little patches of flowers to refresh her senses-all left there for her by the loving forethought of those who had travelled that way before her; her beauty, her voic

r grandmother has worn a shawl over her head and walked barefoot on the bitter coast of Clare with a smile on her lips and a melody in her heart, she had something better to bequeath to you than money or possessions: her song and her smile will come down through the years and make magic in your eyes; her s

eft uncounted her biggest asset, though it was signed and sealed upon her face-the sign and seal of Ireland. Ireland was in the frank, sweet eyes of her; in the cheek-bones pitched high in her face; in

tracted a little white vellum-covered note-book. Sitting down before her writing-table she opened the book at random and kissed its pages with a rush of tears and a passion that

s cold as a st

like a shriv

ith the croo

old Sara's story mad

of the artist, that even if her dream came true she could never surpass these little studies

ess hung like a dark veil over her youth, and still had power to drive her into torments of hatred and misery. Her soul was still a shrivelled leaf, and her heart as cold as a stone in the sea. She was very sure that this should not be so; she knew that she was incomplete. The instincts of her artist nature told her that somewhere in the world there must be someo

the heavy, weary armour that cased her in, to get light into her, to feel her heart opening, like a flower, and the dew of God falling up

nd grace of

hough they offended her taste, could listen serene-eyed. She understood very well what ailed Luce Abinger, for she was touched with the blight that lay thick upon him. His nature was warped, his vision darkened by hatred and evil memories. His soul was maimed and twisted in the same cruel fashion that his face had been scarred and seamed, and he terribly hated God. Poppy often thought of it as an ironical trick of fate, that she and Luce Abinger-just the two people in all South Africa, perhaps, who cou

s and temperament. He imported from England huge weekly packages of books of both modern and classical literature, together with every variety of journal and magazine. He allowed Poppy the free run of all; only, always she must recount to him afterwards what she had read. A sort of discussion ensued, so dominated by his mordant cynicism and biting wit that she certainly ran no danger of developing any mawkish views of life. This for two or three ho

chosen his r

African haunts that had known him in the past, but made for the big open world beyond the seas; and Poppy went with him as his sister. Wherever they went he never allowed her to make any friends; only when they reached any city o