"No, pounds; there are no rupees in England. He has eyes like two bits of granite, and a long chin; he wears a tall white hat and black stock, and lifts his feet high off the ground as if they did not fit him. I've often laughed at his way of walking. He is crazy about pedigree and position, and Jimmy is his only remaining son. If he makes an unsatisfactory marriage--for instance, if he were to marry a girl without position or fortune--it would be his deathblow!" "So much the better," said Dominga, springing to her feet. "But Dom, do listen. Captain Fielder can never make you his wife--do give him up." "Do you think he will give _me_ up?" she demanded, in a low, grating voice. "Well, promise me at least that you won't meet him at night again. Promise, Dom, on your word of honour." "I promise," she responded, in a passionate whisper; "and now, Verona, listen! if you are false to me, I will"--she paused for a second, in order to formulate a threat and deal adequate vengeance. Her ear caught a rustle on the dressing-table--yes! there was naughty little Johnny, out of his bed at that time of night, sitting up, and watching the sisters with his two glittering black eyes. "I won't say I'll kill you," resumed Dom, "for you wouldn't care--oh, I know your mind--but I will kill Johnny, I will burn him--yes, I'll roast him alive, and _that_ would hurt you!" "Oh, Dom, don't say such hideous things! Of course, you may depend on me; but you--can I really trust you? Will you swear to me on the Bible?" "No; but I'll swear to you on my soul! will that satisfy you?" Dominga Chandos set but a nominal value on her soul. What little soul she had belonged to Jimmy Fielder, and she broke her oath within three days. CHAPTER XXXII The next event of importance was a grand dinner party given by Mrs. Lepell, to which she invited Verona alone. Mrs. Chandos was loudly indignant because Dominga had been overlooked, for she had learnt all particulars of the festivity from her ayah, who heard it from the Lepell's khansamah. There were to be no less than twenty-four guests. These included Colonel and Mrs. Palgrave, Miss Richards, Mr. Young, the Deputy-Inspector-General of Police, Mr. Salwey, a Sir Rupert and Lady Maxwell, who were staying at the Dak bungalow, and various other notabilities; altogether it was to be an unusually smart affair. Poor Verona, who was not particularly anxious to be present, was compelled to listen patiently whilst her mother harped from morning till night on Mrs. Lepell's many delinquencies and Dominga's grievances. The evening arrived, and Verona, with Pussy's volunteered assistance, began to make her toilette. She arranged her hair carefully, and put on a dress, relic of happier times, a white crêpe de chine; it had come from the atelier of Laferrière, and was a simple, but exquisite gown. Pussy was loud in her expressions of admiration.