"Oh, she was brought up in England by this old Portuguese woman, who died suddenly without a will. And there was nothing for this girl to do but return to her own relations—whose existence she now discovers for the first time!"
"Well, I call it a tragedy," exclaimed Brian Salwey, "what do you say, Aunt Liz?"
"Yes, I went over to-day, expecting to see another edition of Dominga with European veneer, and discovered a pretty, refined English girl, who has no doubt been accustomed to her maid, her carriage, her French milliner, and any quantity of admiration. She looked completely dazed and bewildered; I found her sisters arrayed in her best frocks, while she held in her arms, with a terrified expression, her black baby nephew, Chandos Montagu Jones! As I let it be clearly understood that my visit was to Miss Verona, she came and talked to me, and they all sat round and gaped upon us with their mouths. Her manner was perfectly lady-like and self-possessed, but once I caught her off her guard, and if ever I saw horror or despair in any human eyes, it was in hers! I suppose she had no idea she was a Eurasian, till yesterday, and will, I am convinced, run away—or do something."
"And can't you do something, Aunt Liz?" urged Salwey.
"I certainty will, if I can; but my position is extremely difficult; I am obliged to hold myself aloof, and be friendly with none, otherwise I should get sucked down into the raging whirlpool of Manora politics. First, there is Mr. Chandos, sub-manager, a gentleman, and of indisputably old English family. There are his people, all dark Eurasians, with the exception of Dominga, her mother's idol, whom I particularly dislike; she reminds me of a deadly mechanical toy, harmless to look at, but ready to explode, unless handled most delicately. Her craving for notoriety, admiration, and pleasure are beyond all words."
"Well, I must say, she is an uncommonly good-looking girl," exclaimed Major Gale, with unexpected fervour.
"Oh, yes—she is handsome, I admit. Then there are the Trotters," continued Mrs. Lepell, "pure Europeans; they despise the Chandos for their taint of native blood; the Chandos family look down on them, as common people—they themselves being gentry. Then there are the dear, good old Cavalhos, and the Watkins; if I show partiality to one family, I make the others angry and envious. I should like to befriend that poor girl, I know she is most unhappy and desolate, for Mr. Chandos holds himself curiously aloof from his circle, and she has not a creature of her own class to help or to comfort her. Imagine the change, from the petted heiress to fifteen thousand a year, to becoming the odd daughter out, in that ménage."
"I've no doubt she wishes she were dead," exclaimed Major Gale. "I should if I were in her shoes. Marianna in the Moated Grange was ten times better off."
"I believe Mother Chan, as they call her, was greatly averse to her joining the family, and for once she showed her sense," remarked Mr. Lepell.
"Yes, but the miserable creature rushed on her fate," added his wife; "she was craving to see her own people, and, above all—her mother."