"I was always so puzzled--I may say dumbfounded. You were so utterly different to Pussy and Dominga. Dom appalled me." "Did she?--and now," looking at him with a mischievous smile, she added, "_you_ are connected with her--and I am not!" "Yes; and do you know, she is quite a success!--has swept the old Lord straight off his legs, and my uncle, Sir Horace, is actually enslaved! I say," he added, leaning towards her, and lowering his voice mysteriously--"_they don't know_." "No? I used to be dreadfully prejudiced; now I am not. I agree with Mr. Salwey that a slight mixture of Eastern blood is not a disadvantage." "Salwey! By the way, that reminds me, I saw the death of his father in this evening's paper." "Really!" she exclaimed, and her colour deepened. After a pause she added, "It must have been rather sudden." "I cannot say--I am sure," he rejoined indifferently. "I believe it is a fine property, and I am glad poor old Salwey will get his innings at last. It will make a great difference to him. What do you think?" "Yes," drawing a long breath, "and it will make a great difference to me!" "Why," he asked, "should it affect you?" "Because I need not now return to India." "Then--then," he stammered, "I gather that you and Salwey are engaged." "It is true," she answered softly, "though not yet announced in the _Morning Post_, and I tell you as an old friend. He is on his way home." "Oh, Miss Hargreaves! I--of course--wish you every happiness, but this is very terrible news to me." "To you? I don't quite understand," she said sedately. "You know very well how long I have been attached to you, don't you? And now I'm too late. Do you realise what brought me to England?" "Sick leave, I think you said." "Home-sick leave. I wanted to see _you_." "Now, Captain Haig, please don't be so tragic!" she exclaimed with a touch of impatience, "you know very well that in your heart of hearts you did not care so very much for me. You will soon forget all about Homburg, and I will forget all about India, and so we will be quits, and, I trust, good friends." "I am sure you two must have had quite a nice Indian gossip!" said Lady Ida, sweeping into the room, note in hand; "I suppose you have been going over all your mutual experiences out there?" "I--I--suppose we have," assented the visitor mechanically. "I daresay you know Mr. Salwey?" "Yes; we were at Harrow together. I was his fag, and he used to lick me for not cleaning his boots! I also knew him in India." "He is on his way home now." "So I hear," rising as he spoke. "Well, I am afraid I ought to be on my way home too. I am staying down the river." "I hope you will come and look us up again, and meet your old school-fellow," said Lady Ida. "You will generally find us here at tea-time. We are always glad to see Verona's friends."