"I don't fancy the beauties of nature would appeal to Sir Horace." "No, he is a practical man. If he were shown the mountains of the moon in a strong telescope, he would immediately wonder if there was grouse on them!" "Then he and auntie would thoroughly agree. Are you remaining long?" "I'm on my way back to India, worse luck, and sail from Marseilles in ten days." "Ah, so you don't like the East?" "No, I suppose because I'm nailed out there by duty. Just as you are held fast by the dog. Of course, it's the best country for soldiering--lots of room to manœuvre and turn round." "I've always cherished a wild wish to see India," she said. "Auntie lived there for years, but she abhors it, and has not one single good word for the country. Other people rave in its praise. What do you say, Captain Haig--speaking unofficially?" "Well"--and he took a long breath--"I admit that, like the curate's egg, parts of it are good. But where I am stationed it is all cotton soil, sugar cane, and sun." "No antiquities?" "Nothing more venerable than the oldest resident! Of course, your aunt was born out there?" he rashly ventured, then could have bitten his tongue in two. He glanced at his companion, but she appeared to be serenely unconscious of any _faux pas_, the exquisite pink in her fair cheek had not deepened in shade, as she answered with an air of cool reflection. "I'm not sure. I don't think so. But I know that she was married out there!" "Ah!" he ejaculated, "then, perhaps, that is why she dislikes the country?" Miss Chandos gave him a quick look and made no reply. Captain Haig again regretted having spoken unadvisedly, and on this occasion he felt distinctly snubbed. "Do you play golf?" asked the lady abruptly. "No, I cannot say that I play," he stammered, "but my uncle does." "That sounds exactly like a sentence from Ollendorf. 'I do not ride on horseback, but the sister of our neighbour does.' You really must take to golf!" "Verona, child," screamed her aunt, "what are you loitering for? Come along, this sun is too hot for Dog Darling. We must be going. Captain Haig," turning to Malcolm, "your uncle has promised to bring you to dine with me to-night, at Ritter's. I have engaged a table--seven o'clock is the hour. So mind you are not late! Good-bye--good-bye--good-bye!" As she made her adieux, madame--who was decidedly solid in figure--was respectfully hoisted into a smart victoria. Verona took a place beside her. Dog Darling nimbly accepted the front seat, and in another moment a pair of smart bay steppers had borne the trio out of sight. CHAPTER III "I flatter myself I managed that rather neatly," remarked the Baronet, as he surveyed his nephew with a complacent grin, "an introduction, a _tête-à-tête_, and an invitation, all within half-an-hour." "You could not have done more, sir, had you been a London chaperone of twenty seasons. I assure you I am duly grateful."