Why should he not make his home in India? Do as he would, he could not get the girl out of his head; she haunted him as he sat in his verandah, or as he rode about the district, looking after his work. "She is a half-caste," whispered a warning voice; "look at her sister Blanche."
On the other hand, old Mother Lopez was a truly good woman, tender-hearted, simple and charitable. Little Mrs. Cavalho was in her way an uncanonised saint. If the truth were really known and boldly proclaimed, there was a certain amount of Eastern blood to be found in English society! Many unconscious individuals were Eurasians, counting back to the pagoda tree days of their grandfathers, and the spacious times of Old John Company. If one must judge by appearances, Verona Chandos might very easily be taken for the daughter of a hundred earls, and, at any rate, on her father's side, her race was undeniable.
Here came Nicky, rowing himself down from Manora, eager to enjoy a promised lesson in practical chemistry, for Salwey dabbled in photography and chemistry, and between his dark room and his amateur laboratory, the vapours, sounds and explosions, one or two of his myrmidons were under the impression that he kept an evil spirit on the premises!
A white bull terrier, called "Chum," the most intelligent and attached of dumb friends, when he saw Inky Chandos toiling up the steep garden from the boat, lashed his long whip tail, where he sat in the verandah, and greeted him with an all but human grin of welcome. "Chum" was a dear dog, and a courteous gentleman; the whole cantonment loved "Chum." But he only loved his master—and Inky Chandos.
CHAPTER XXVIII
It was the second week in January, the date of the Rajahpore race-meeting, the one notable local event in the year. Every bungalow in the station had several tents pitched in its compound for the accommodation of guests; the Rest House was crammed; strange faces were to be seen at the Club, and strings of unfamiliar ponies were being exercised on the course. The great day dawned at last; it was, of course, brilliantly fine, and the oldest resident was heard to declare that the events on the cards, the class of entries, and the number of visitors, had never been approached. Such a fête was naturally a proper occasion for Mrs. Chandos to make an ostentatious appearance in a wagonette with two horses; and the wagonette, which resembled a gay parterre, contained the lady herself, Dominga, Pussy, Blanche, Monty, Nicky, on the box, and last, not least, Verona, who would gladly have been excused, but was compelled to come forth in her best remaining dress and a pretty white hat—which fortunately had not happened to have been becoming to Dominga.
Mrs. Chandos had secured tickets for the stand, and, previous to the first event, she and her little clutch fluttered and strutted about the enclosure with a notable amount of aggressive swagger. Salwey, who had entered Baber, his black "Waler," for a hurdle race, was returning from the stables when he encountered Verona and Nicky—who were walking together, apart.
"I say, would you two like to come into the paddock and see the horses?" he said.
They gladly accepted his invitation and accompanied him round the stables, where he pointed out to them the different celebrities, and gave a rapid sketch of their several careers, with their failings, foibles, victories and defeats. Suddenly Verona found herself face to face with a young man in a long racing coat, whose face seemed familiar.
"Miss Chandos!" he exclaimed, halting immediately before her, and then she recognised Captain Haig, who snatched off his cap and held out his hand, saying: