The two ladies returned to the big bungalow, where they sat in the verandah and had tea. It was like an English tea, with all its dainty little appointments. The sight of the pretty drawing-room, with its books and flowers and sketches acted as a restorative. So all Indian drawing-rooms were not dingy and dark and squalid! Mrs. Lepell's society was a veritable tonic, and when she had deposited the invalid at the door of her home, the girl felt miraculously stimulated and revived. * * * * * Verona lost no time in putting Mrs. Lepell's advice into practice--her project of being governess to Nicky and Pussy was accepted by the pair with unexpected pride and gratitude. A large table in one corner of the verandah was carefully screened off, and here they worked for two or three hours every morning, in spite of the jeers and derision of Dominga and her mother. Pussy was incredibly dull; nothing could induce her to put the "e" in the right place in "believe" and "receive," and as to the difference between latitude and longitude she merely laughed and shook her head. On the other hand, Nicky had brains, and a decided taste for mathematics. Salwey gave him lessons twice a week, for Nicky had been promised a clerkship in the works if he proved steady and industrious; certainly, it was only fifty rupees a month, but it was better than nothing. His ambition had been set alight, and Salwey had fired him with the desire to be an engineer, and to endeavour to pass into Roorki College. Nicky now turned his carpentering talents to mending an old, long-neglected boat, and of an afternoon he rowed his two sisters about the river--even his grandmother ventured once--anything to please Nicky, for Nicky was her darling. Verona, to her great satisfaction, now began to know her father a little better; he dropped his reserve, and seemed faintly interested in the boating and lessons. One evening, much to her surprise, he invited her into his own particular den; it was at the far end of the bungalow, opened directly into the verandah, and was entered by three steps. As she stood and gazed about her Verona gave an exclamation of astonishment; she had seen an officer's barrack room in England, she was standing in its counterpart here. There was the brass-bound chest of drawers, the camp bed, the folding chair and round table; over the mantel-piece hung a sabre, sabre-tasche, and spurs; on the walls, covered with numbers of faded regimental groups, were also polo sticks, hog spears and some old sporting prints. One side of the room was lined with a bookcase; there was a writing table, a shabby, comfortable-looking armchair, and quantities of pipes. It was the room of an officer, and gentleman! "Here I sit and smoke and dream alone," explained Mr. Chandos. "Always alone?" enquired Verona. "Yes; no one else cares to dream and read." "I think I do, father." "Then I invite you here; consider yourself an honorary member of the Den."