CHAPTER XXXI
The change in Dominga, which had not escaped the sharp eyes of old Nani, gradually became visible to her sister. Dom's whole mind was evidently concentrated on something, or someone—who could that someone be? She was abstracted, silent and forgetful—at one moment in the maddest and most unaccountable spirits, at another sunk in the depths of ferocious gloom. Dominga was in love—and for the first time in her existence. Ambition and a hungry vanity had impelled her to strain every effort in order to attract "The Honourable" (as he was called in Manora), and her aim was accomplished but too easily. On the occasion of their second meeting he exclaimed:
"Lovely Dom! won't you be real good friends with me? won't you like me—and let us see a great deal of one another?"
This appeal she had laughed at and "pooh-poohed." Now to see "Jimmy" was all she lived for. She was indifferent to position; she had no desire to snatch a coronet—all she cared for was Jimmy himself. If Jimmy ceased to love her, if he were to leave her, the whole world would become wrapped in darkness—and she would die.
Meanwhile, none suspected their intimacy. Dom was an accomplished actress, and full of resource and courage; she concealed an impassioned love affair behind the cloak of a duly licensed (warranted "harmless") flirtation with her unhappy dupe, "Baby Charles."
These two strings to her bow were a severe tax on Dominga. Admirable performer as she was, she found it difficult to keep both strings in tune, and to wear an everyday air of smiling self-possession. She worshipped Jimmy, and with regret, it must be added, that she now secretly detested Baby Charles. These devastating emotions had their natural result; she became nervous, thin and restless as the sea itself; sleep and appetite both left her, and yet Dom retained her looks—she had a sort of glorified expression; a soft brilliance in her eyes had replaced their former challenging stare.
Towards the middle of February the nights were becoming warm. At any rate, Verona found it difficult to rest; and on more than one occasion she rose, slipped on her shoes and a long cloak, and set forth to wander along the old familiar path by the river. The air was cool and refreshing after a close room (they had not yet begun punkahs), and one night she was tempted to stroll beyond her usual bounds, towards a certain lonely spot—the desolate garden of an old bungalow which had fallen into ruins. This garden was a jungle of trees and creepers; bamboos, loquats and apricots struggled fiercely for spaces—beautiful roses, gone mad, threw their shoots in all directions. Here the blue jay and the golden orioles were undisturbed—it was a wilderness of flowers and birds, far from the hurry and dust of the outer world. Few ever passed that way, because the old ruined house had an evil name, and was reputed to be haunted. Verona had discovered this sanctuary, and many a half-hour she spent, sitting on the steps of the verandah, whilst Johnny darted about among the neighbouring branches, and played on a circular stone platform close by—a "chabootra," where in former days the family had enjoyed the air and tea—raised a few inches from undesirable insects, and snakes. To this retreat Verona had now wound her steps, and as she made her way among the bushes she was aware that someone else was in the garden—someone who was singing "The Jewel of Asia." She approached, and thrusting aside the high plumes of the grass blossoms, beheld a tableau which rooted her to the spot.
Dominga—on the chabootra—wearing a low evening dress, her hair crowned by a wreath of passion flowers, was not merely singing, but dancing! As she sang she held with extended arms her flowing white skirts, and weaved the most dainty measures. She moved with the true "bird-like step" and the swaying, undulating grace of her renowned grandmother, the Nautch girl!
Naturally Dom was not singing or dancing solely for her own amusement, or the entertainment of roof cats, owls and night-jars. As she executed her fairy-like pas seul on the stone platform, the "Honourable," cigarette in mouth, lounged by the edge of the verandah, and clapped applause.
Whilst Verona stood transfixed, this pretty scene fell to pieces, for Dom, in answer to a gesture from Jimmy, turned, saw her sister, and uttered a piercing shriek.