"We are an old family, too," announced Miss Dominga, turning her head slowly from side to side. "Though father never talks--he is in the Landed Gentry book--you can see it at the Club--and we are the Chandos of Charne." Little Mr. Young, much as he adored his companion, could scarcely restrain a smile, to hear a Chandos of Manora boasting in this fashion. Her people were terrible. No, he never attempted to defend them. Her quarrelling, pushing, half-caste mother, her dusky brother and sister, her father--the old broken officer, who, it was said, took opium. But his Dominga stood apart from these. She shone like a star against a dark sky. Some day he would marry her--not her family. Yes, the infatuated youth, aged twenty-two, with one hundred pounds a year and his pay, had determined to make Dominga his wife. Their engagement was to be kept secret until the regiment moved to another station--the Colonel would cut up rusty if he heard of it, and hustle him off to the depôt in England; he objected to married subalterns. The Honourable Jimmy was dispatched to India because he wanted to marry someone at home--and it would be odd if he was packed off home because he intended to marry a girl in India. Whilst he was pondering over this idea, his fair ladylove, who strolled beside him, was occupied with other thoughts. She was unusually silent, and when she did speak, her answers were somewhat brief and distrait. At the present moment her glance was alert with excitable watchfulness, and her mind was filled with eager speculations respecting the newcomer. Had luck at last thrown fortune in her way? Was this young future lord her fate? Her fate, come to seek her in this out-of-the-way corner of the world! Her face looked vivid and her eyes dilated as she recalled her grandmother's prediction, that "Dominga would wear jewels, and stand in a great light." And what of Baby Charles? By this time they had arrived at the polo ground, where a place near the tent was reserved exclusively for the party. Captain Prescott rode up to them proudly on his new polo pony, a recent investment. "Hullo, Prescott," cried Charlie Young; "where did you rise the animal? Did you get him out of the Zoo?" "Yes," he rejoined, with the utmost gravity; "don't you remember him when you were in the monkey-house?" Dominga received this sally with a peal of laughter--this sort of wit appealed to her at once. And Verona now saw Dominga in the society of men for the first time. She appeared to be enjoying herself prodigiously, and was what may be called "a quarrelsome flirt." Tossing her head, she said to one: