"There is a lot of 'go' about this dance, is there not?" he remarked. "It is like a bit of your former life--old friends and all. I say, what a change it must have been to you, coming out to Manora." "It was," she assented, without lifting her eyes from the river. "I am going to propose"--he paused; she turned and looked at him gravely--"another change." And in quite a matter-of-fact voice he added: "Miss Chandos, will you marry me?" For a moment she stared at him, as if unable to realise the question. A host of thoughts flew through her brain. Only one little month ago she had been prepared to marry Captain Haig, and she now recalled this fact with a sense of shame. But her mother's tongue and temper had strained her courage beyond the pitch of endurance. At the approach of her step she mentally quailed; at the sound of her voice her heart fluttered. Since then she had fought a stern battle with herself; she had braced her soul to accept the inevitable. Her health was better, her nerves were more composed, and she had resolved never to marry. Here was the first and only proposal she had received since her arrival in India (the promised land of proposals), and what a curious contrast was presented by this wooer to her former numerous suitors. He was a mere nobody--a Superintendent of Police. But then, he was not suing for the hand of Verona Chandos, the great heiress, but the hand of Verona, the penniless half-caste. He was well acquainted with her history, and with her circle of most undesirable connections. Whatever had been in the minds of her former lovers, this generous man was entirely disinterested. He cared for nothing but herself. Nevertheless, she was determined to say No. She would refuse to spoil his life, and to drag him into her miserable affairs. His aunt, too, who loved her as a protégée, would undoubtedly detest her as a niece! She glanced from the glittering silver river to Salwey, who sat on the edge of the parapet leaning towards her, the shining flood at his back threw into strong relief his square shoulders and well-poised head. She looked into his face--his strong, stern face--his steady blue eyes, which were fixed gravely on her own, and anxiously awaiting her reply. Another dance had commenced, and the distant music filled the air with a low, humming noise. Close by (with a partner and atmosphere of "Ess Bouquet") sat Blanche, squeaking, giggling and jingling her bangles. "Oh, you nartie man--be quiett! be quiett!" and there was a sound of a brisk smack; "you shall not say so. No-a! No-a!" If Verona's mind had been momentarily undecided, her sister Blanche now recalled her to her senses and hardened her heart to a fixed resolution. "Mr. Salwey, you have taken me by surprise. You have done me a great honour," here she paused. "There!" he ejaculated; "I know--that's what girls always say when they mean to let a fellow down easy." "I could not marry you--I will never marry any one."