"Hush—sh!" said her companion, rising simultaneously to his feet—and the occasion. "Quite the time of day to be out—is it not, Miss Chandos?" sauntering towards her as he spoke. "I wandered over to Manora, and had the good luck to meet first your sister—and now yourself!"
"Oh, Verona!" cried Dominga, "what a fright you did give me! I thought you were the ghost! You know this place is haunted by those Mutiny people who were killed here."
"I assure you that I was equally startled," rejoined the other in a frosty voice.
"I suppose you came out for a breath of air—same as myself," continued Dom, with unsurpassed effrontery—and her fairness was dazzling in the moonlight.
A breath of air! and she dressed in her best gauze ball gown—white satin shoes, and all!
Verona made no answer, and being painfully conscious of the great deficiencies of her own toilette, without further formality effected a rapid retreat.
"I say! I call that most beastly bad luck," exclaimed Jimmy, looking after the departing figure. "Does she twig anything?"
"She must—unless she is an idiot."
"She won't give us away, Dom! You must make that all right, old girl!"
"If I can."