"And you are so handsome!" resumed the old woman. "You will be arl-right, I see it in your face. You will be lucky. You know the saying, 'Who eats sugar, will _get_ sugar.'" Then turning sharply to her daughter, she said:--"Rosie, this girl is not like any one of you, no! she is different to all. It is another _face_!" "And how do you account for it, Nani?" inquired Mrs. Chandos, with a sneering smile. "Oh, it is quite plain! Oh, thatt is easily done!" rejoined Mrs. Lopez with delighted alacrity. "She takes after my mother. Yes; she must inherit from her; for, although she was only a Temple girl who danced before the gods--a Naikin from Goa, where my father first saw her--yet she was celebrated as the most beautiful woman on the whole West coast!" "And you think Verona beautiful, and like her?" cried her daughter, bursting into a peal of derisive laughter. "Whatt a joke! Well, Nani, you _must_ be blind! She is well enough, but no beauty." "Pah! pah! pah! you are no judge, Rosa! You have only eyes for that red cat of yours; and I tell you this child," and she pointed to Verona, "has a face that will make her fortune; it may be, arl your fortunes." "And that reminds me of the money," said Mrs. Chandos, with a sudden start--"the three hundred pounds fortune. Did you bring it in sovereigns, Verona, as we wished?" "Yes, it is all in my dressing bag." "Ayah, ayahjee!" and Mrs. Chandos went screaming to the door. "Go, fetch the Missy's big leather bag, and bring it here, quick, quick! quick! Or, wait! I go myself," and she darted into the moonlight. "She is wonderful, your mother," remarked the old woman; "so sharp about money! Such a manager! Great show outside, and pinching in the belly; but she will have it thus, since there are so many to feed, and young girls to marry. Her wishes are high." "Yes," assented her daughter mechanically. "Arl-day she works so hard in the office next door, doing figures and accounts. She owns a few little houses in the bazaar, and adds on to the pay. It is not much, two hundred a month." "Pounds?" suggested her companion. "No! rupees--that is to say, shillings. But she is a manager." "Well, here it is," panted Mrs. Chandos, pushing open the door with her foot, and entering bag in hand; "now let us see the money." As Verona hastened to produce her keys, and proceeded to unlock the bag, Mrs. Chandos continued: "I will invest it for you, child; it will bring in good interest; as much as one hundred and fifty rupees a year, which will buy you clothes." "No, no! it is all for you and father," protested the girl. "I only wish it were more! I really do not want it."