"Oh, my dear friend, whatt a lucky woman you are with your five children around you--and we, that have not one--and this new da-ter, like a queen, the most beautiful of all!" But Mrs. Chandos gave her chin a contemptuous tilt, shook off the kind, little hand, and remarked in a querulous tone: "Oh, yes, she is all very well now; but when she has had a couple of hot weathers, she will not be so wonderful, you will see." But to this melancholy prophecy good Mrs. Cavalho absolutely refused to assent. Dominga, who had succeeded to the piano stool, now favoured the company with two penetrating songs; then a servant appeared with a tray on which was rum (factory rum), water, sweet syrup (home-made) and biscuits--a signal that the entertainment was waning. The community at Manora were early risers, and the guests now began to disperse. "Do look at grandmamma!" said Blanche as she rose, "she is sound asleep; she does not care for music, only snake-charmers, and tom-toms, and those whining bazaar tunes. Ayah and baby are already in the gharry, and we must be going. Remember I expect you all to tea to-morrow, especially Verona," and after a series of shrill good-byes, parting injunctions, and smacking kisses, the Jones family were once more packed into their hired conveyance, and rattled back to Rajahpore. "Aré, so they are gone," said Mrs. Lopez, sitting erect, and indulging herself with a prodigious yawn; "that Monty is a stupid owl, and Blanche is still so gay and grand. Well! Well! Well! You know the saying, 'The cow does not find her own horns heavy.' Now I'm going away to my bed." * * * * * In half-an-hour the whole family had retired, and a profound peace fell upon the bungalow. Verona opened the glass door of her room and stole out, and once more began to pace the path by the river bank. It was a perfect moonlight night, and oh, what a delightful change from the noise and chatter of the day! The scene was beautiful, all the landscape being outlined in silver; the everyday yellow plain across the water had now a far-away, fairy-like effect. The silence was almost death-like; the hideous cry of the hunting jackal, the scream of a night hawk, disturbed the night--elsewhere, and the only sound to be heard was the occasional flop of a belated fish. To Verona there was something extraordinarily soothing and grateful in her surroundings, although her head throbbed and ached, and she held her hands to her forehead as she paced up and down. All at once she was aware of something--a faint distant sound--what was it? The regular dip of oars coming nearer and nearer; in two or three minutes a white boat rowed by one man shot into sight. As it approached, she perceived that the oarsman, whose curly head was bare, was a sahib, for the moon shone a full dazzling light on his good-looking, determined face. When the boat was almost opposite he leant for a moment on his oars and called over to her: