The difficulties in the path of his true love had but increased Jimmy
Fielder's interest in Dominga--now that Dom was unattainable, she
appeared to be almost indispensable to his happiness. He had been bored
to death in the Terai, and bitten by the most ferocious of insects,
grilled alive and half starved, all for one mangy tiger skin! He had
been equally bored on a hill station; none of the girls were half as
amusing as Dom--poor Dom, who was breaking her heart for him on the dim
blue plains far below. Now and then he strolled to a certain point and
gazed down, and thought of that sparkling face, those ruddy locks,
that lithe form and nimble tongue--the recollection of those days was
still sharp and vivid. Then came an unexpected summons home, which
blurred the vision. His father had tendered the olive branch and a
handsome cheque; Lord Highstreet was failing fast, and his son, for
his part, was now thoroughly sick of India. Captain Fielder hurried
to Rajahpore in order to settle up, collect his belongings and say
good-bye to the regiment and the Service. He must also say good-bye
to Dom! She had made the memory of his stay on the plains a joy for
ever, and he would send her a jolly present from Streeter's, as soon
as he got home. Of course he had heard of the death of Mr. Chandos,
and he was aware that the family had been in some mysterious trouble;
the victoria, full of gay cushions, no longer waited under a certain
tree near the club, nor were there any more letters to be found in "Two
Kisses."
Captain Fielder had already secured his passage and paid his farewell
calls; the station was almost empty, the ladies were in the hills. He
was an idle man, and Fate finds some mischief still for idle men to do!
Inspired by Fate, he made up his mind to drive out to Manora, in broad
daylight, and interview Dom, and see if his memory had not flattered
her too much.
Captain Fielder was ushered into the drawing-room, and then in
another moment she had flown to him, gasping and sobbing with joy and
astonishment. She clung to his neck, her sweet breath (a peculiarity of
Eurasians) fanning his cheek, her glorious hair falling back, her eyes
gazing into his own. He succumbed at once to her spell, her wonderful
seduction--her, for him, fearful fascination. Oh, why was she not a
lady? and one he could marry and take home, for Dom was so entirely to
his taste; ever the same, yet never boring him.
"Oh, why should he not please himself, why? why?" he mentally exclaimed
with impotent fury.
"Oh, ho! So you are the beast that has broken my daughter's heart,"
cried a shrill voice, and Mrs. Chandos, in funereal weeds, darted into
the room. "It is well poor Chandos is dead, and does not know of your
wickedness!"
"What do you mean, Madam?" he demanded, now releasing Dom, and boldly
facing his assailant.
"That you wanted her to run away with you. Oh, yes, we arl know _that_,
and now you are coming to say good-bye, and thank you very much, before
you go to England."
"Oh, he is not going to England!" screamed Dominga, seizing him by the
arm, whilst her face assumed a sudden pallor, and her nostrils quivered
nervously.
"Yes, he is; he goes in the _Persia_, on the fourth," said her mother.
"Is it not so?" and she flashed on him a look of fury.
Jimmy nodded his head emphatically, and Dominga broke into a wailing
cry.
"Well, now I will speak plainly; before you go," said Mrs. Chandos,
"you shall marry Dominga, and take her with you."
"Oh, impossible! nonsense!" protested her visitor, in an angry voice.
"No, no; not at all im-possible. You do many bad things; you pretend to
every one you don't know my daughter, at all; you come out here on the
sly, sly--all Manora saw you; you make love, but you do _not_ break her
heart and then leave her. You marry her, then you go!"
"But my good lady----" he interrupted.
"Cho-op!" she screamed, "see, now, I give you your choice; you take
her--or you take--_me_!"
"What? you are mad--raving!"
"Yes; me, me, me," indicating herself with three sharp finger taps; "I
am not poor, and I follow you all over the world, and I punish you.
First, I tell the station; then I go to the orderly room and tell the
Colonel; next, I write to your father! See, look, I swear it. I, too,
take passage in _Persia_--sit at your table; every now and then I call
'Rascal! rascal! rascal!' So, too, in England; I follow in the street;
I point, and cry 'Rascal, rascal, rascal!'"
"The police----" he began.
"Police take me up--arl-right. Say she is crazy! I go to court, I tell
all the story--what fun for the newspapers, and all the world will
know, and they will laugh, laugh, laugh, and cry shame. This I do,
if it cost my life, and my money. Whatever I want I get. You ask! my
husband could tell you--what I will happens; ask my mother and Dominga.
I always come out what you call 'top dog!' So now you speak, and say
which you take in the _Persia_--Dominga or me?"
Her black gown had the effect of making Mrs. Chandos look judicial
and almost diabolical. She spoke rapidly, but with complete
self-possession, only that a light in her eyes flickered like the flame
of a candle.
Poor Jimmy was completely dominated by this fierce little iron-willed
half-caste. Her victim felt instinctively that she would surely carry
out her threat, and be as bad as her word. Well, after all, why should
he not marry Dom? The present moment was critical--the future--was the
future. He was immensely fond of Dom. She was handsome, dashing and
clever, and adored him. Away from Manora she would be quite a striking
personality. It was her background--for instance, this devilish mother
of hers--which played the mischief.
Yes, yes; he would do it--marry Dom before the magistrate, or by
special license, and wire for another passage--and, fired with this
reckless resolve, he drawled:
"I say, you need not make such a confounded hullaballoo!" turning
suddenly on his future mother-in-law; "I intend to marry Dominga!"
And Dominga, who had been clinging to his arm until now, on hearing
this announcement, slipped down to the floor in a limp heap. She had
fainted.
Here was a fine piece of news for all the station, the bazaar, the
factory, the letters to the hills--"Captain Fielder had actually
married, by special license, Dom Chandos, and they had gone home in
the _Persia_! What would his father say?"
And it had all been so secret! such a general hoodwinking was as
incredible as it was successful. Poor Colonel Palgrave! Poor Mrs.
Palgrave! Poor Mrs. Grundy!
Dominga, in the midst of the hastiest preparations, and the most
bewildering happiness, nevertheless found time to pay a hurried visit
to the Trotters and to Blanche. She was marrying Jimmy for himself, but
to be in a position to tell Blanche and Lizzie that she would one day
be Lady Highstreet, and that in the meantime they must put "Honourable"
on her letters, was a joy that repaid her for many weeks of sorrow.
Lord Highstreet had transported his heir to India in order to avoid an
undesirable match, his son was now returning, and bringing (did his
father but know!) as wife, one of the daughters of the people!
The true history of the Honourable Mrs. J. Fielder remained a profound
secret. Chandos was a good name; she was the grandchild of Chandos
of Charne, and talked not a little of her ancestors. Dom, clever,
imitative Dom! easily adapted herself to circumstances. She carried her
head high, she dressed well, and had a just sense of her own place in
the world. To see her in her carriage in the Park, with Jimmy grinning
beside her, they presented a charming and instructive picture of
domestic felicity--and in spite of his gallant boast, Master Jimmy _is_
kept in bounds!
Mrs. Fielder's accent is unquestionably a little foreign--and when
extremely angry she has been known to break out into the language of
an unknown tongue--but then she is so accomplished! Who would believe
the graceful figure trailing about the lawns of Hurlingham was the
self-same woman, who, not so long ago, at a certain railway crossing,
had dashed herself down, torn her hair, beat her head upon the ground,
and called upon heaven and earth with heart-rending cries.
Dom has one little boy. He is not the least like his parents, who are
both fair--he is too absurdly dark! His complexion is a puzzle to the
entire Highstreet connection, but Dom herself is silent! She knows
perfectly well (and buries the truth in her heart) that her darling
Villiers Augustus bears a fatal resemblance to his dear little Indian
cousin, Chandos Montagu-Jones!