"Well, the exchange has been effected merely with the idea of getting him into another set."
"You have seen him, of course?"
"Oh, yes, and he has no resemblance to one's preconceived idea of a naughty boy—perfectly self-possessed, cheery, and rather good-looking."
"Perhaps he may be an acquisition, after all."
By this time they were at the polo ground. Mrs. Palgrave waited a moment for Verona, and said:
"My husband has been telling me about a new officer who has just joined, a Captain Fielder. We have some chairs and rugs near the tent—won't you come and sit by me?"
A large and motley native crowd were assembled on the edge of the ground, their brilliant red and yellow garments giving a touch of colour to the scene, and the game was already in full swing. As Verona accepted Mrs. Palgrave's invitation, she noticed that Dominga and Mr. Young appeared to have a great deal to say to one another; unquestionably they had not met for the first time to-day.
On the contrary, as we know, Charlie Young and Miss Dominga were fast friends—little Charlie was constantly chaffed about his infatuation for "Red Chandos," and bore jokes and gibes with a good temper that discouraged and, at the same time, disarmed his tormentors.
"I say, I can't tell you how surprised and delighted I was to find you at Mrs. Barwell's," he murmured, as he walked beside his enchantress.
"Oh, my sister met her at home," rejoined Dom, in her most off-hand manner; "that is why we were asked to tea. Verona knows hundreds of swells. Do tell me what you think? Do you call her pretty?"