"I suppose you came out for a breath of air--same as myself," continued Dom, with unsurpassed effrontery--and her fairness was dazzling in the moonlight. A breath of air! and she dressed in her best gauze ball gown--white satin shoes, and all! Verona made no answer, and being painfully conscious of the great deficiencies of her own toilette, without further formality effected a rapid retreat. "I say! I call that most beastly bad luck," exclaimed Jimmy, looking after the departing figure. "Does she twig anything?" "She must--unless she is an idiot." "She won't give us away, Dom! You must make that all right, old girl!" "If I can." "If you cannot, there will be the devil to pay!" "What particular devil?" enquired his lady love. "Well, your _father_ might kick up a row." Dominga laughed with infinite mockery. "Or our old man--who is supposed to keep me under lock and key? You must square it, won't you, darling?" "Of course, I will do whatever you like, Jim. I always do." And Verona was fully as uncomfortable as the lovers. She crept guiltily into bed, and once there her heart beat so fast she could not sleep. So this was Dom's secret--Jimmy Fielder! How well she had kept it! and yet how reckless to choose an open spot, not far from the house, for entrancing her lover with song and dance! They must have met frequently--this was no unusual occasion. Verona, unable to sleep or close her eyes, beheld again, with inward vision, the scene: the background of flowering shrubs, the white floating figure with waving arms and gliding grace--Jimmy, sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hat on the back of his head, cigarette in mouth, gazing and glowering like a masher in a music hall--where no doubt, for the moment, he believed himself to be! And Dominga was her own sister--what should she do? What must she do? At this moment a stealthy footfall entered the room--it was Dom come to answer that question in person. "Verona," she whispered, "are you asleep?" "No--I wish to goodness I was." "You know our secret." "I'm not so sure that I do!" "But you see what we are. Jimmy adores me, and I adore him." "If so, why does he not come here and adore you in broad daylight?" "Because of people's tongues--think of the spite of the Trotters and Watkins, and Blanche's chum, Mrs. Wandle. Verona, dear," and she fell on her knees beside the bed, "will you promise to say nothing of what you saw? Promise, and I will do anything--anything." "I will promise, if you will listen to what I have to say first." Dominga, with an impatient "Ch-a-ah!" sat suddenly down on the floor. "I have seen Captain Fielder's father. He is a curious old man--very proud, and very hard--and enormously rich." "How rich?" asked Dom, raising herself a little. "Oh, about forty thousand a year." "Rupees?"