A gleam of fine weather, a break in the rains, released the two prisoners, and each hastened to repair to her familiar haunts; Lola to the assembly rooms, the Wigwam, and the polo-ground, Angel to take her walks abroad, as far as possible from the giddy throng. She longed to see Philip again, to contemplate him from a new point of view, to endeavour to discover his real attitude towards Lola. But perhaps he would never tell her the truth, he could be a mystery when he chose. Lola was, and ever would be, first in his heart, and she must make up her mind to accept the second place. Angel was absolutely miserable, and as she lingered on the hillsides, watching the ghostly white mists creeping up between the mountains, and filling every ravine and valley, till they touched the spot where she stood, and overwhelmed her, she felt as if a great cloud from which there was no escape, had suddenly descended upon her life. In these days of their mistress's inaction and depression, Sam and John offered much mute sympathy, and protection. They did not forsake her in order to seek their own amusement—no, not even to meet their friends and foes upon the Mall, but formed her constant bodyguard. At night, Sam occupied the most comfortable chair in her room, whilst John sprawled outside the door on a mat. And he never failed to rise and bark, in order to announce the tardy return of the other lady,—for which officious act, Mrs. Waldershare would have gladly had him poisoned. Early one morning in July, an imposing head overseer, two chuprassis, and a dozen stout hill-men, were to be found assembled in front of Rockstone. The overseer had brought a letter from "Gascoigne Sahib," and the lady was to start at once, before there was more rain. Angel's heart leaped at the message, it was her order of release. She made joyful preparations for immediate departure—indeed, these preparations had been completed for weeks. "And pray what is to become of poor me?" inquired Lola in a doleful voice, "where am I to go?" "You can stay here, till the end of our term of course," responded her hostess. "And the servants?" "They can remain too—I am only taking the ayah with me." "Then I shall ask Mrs. Lacy to keep me company," announced the guest. "I shall be so wretched without you, you dear, sweet, unselfish girl." And this bold lie had a flavour of the truth,—Lola would miss Angel in many ways.