"Bless you, my children!"
Lord Sombourne's town house was spacious, imposing, and at the present moment delightfully cool and dim. Tea was served in a lofty drawing room, lined with priceless old tapestry, and opening out of which was a conservatory full of palms and tropical plants, cooled by a splashing fountain. Here indeed was a home in every way worthy of Miss Verona; and as Captain Haig furtively surveyed the powdered servants, the Queen Anne silver, the rare old Sèvres service, all his former admiration for his Princess suddenly flamed into life! He felt convinced that she was the one woman in the world for him. There had been a temporary interregnum, but no one had been exalted to the throne! Yes, he assured himself—he had always been true to her. Could he persuade her to believe this?
After tea Lady Ida, having excused herself to write a note, departed into the front drawing room, and the pair were alone.
"It is hot enough, as Lady Ida says, to recall India!" exclaimed Captain Haig as he passed a delicate silk handkerchief over his forehead. "I don't suppose you care to be reminded of anything out there! It must be all like a bad dream."
"Oh, I don't know," she responded; "there were some good days, and I made some good friends."
"The Lepells, for instance."
"Yes; I came home with Mrs. Lepell."
"And so you were not a Chandos after all!"
"No; I have had a most varied circle of connections, and now I belong at last to my real relations."
"I cannot somehow call you Miss Hargreaves."