"Did you notice her gown?" said her sister, speaking, as it were, in italics. "It must have cost a fortune—simple—yet so French; and look at her dressing-case," and Miss Ball cast up her eyes in pious horror. After the ladies had reappeared in the "person's" garments, refreshments were brought in, to which they paid serious attention. They partook of whiskies and sodas, began to recover from their fright and their astonishment, and found their tongues. "You never saw anything like the road between this and Shiram's," remarked Mrs. Flant. "Oh, I think I can imagine it," replied Angel, "as I came over part of that way this morning." "You? Not really?" in an incredulous key. "Yes, I only arrived a few hours before you"—the girl was obviously speaking the truth; she was a lady—"I came out in the _Arabia_ on Monday." "Then the Mactears were on board?" with a judicial air. "Yes, they were in the next cabin to us—to the friend I came out with." "I'm afraid you won't have a favourable first impression of India," said Miss Ball. "Oh, but I was born here. I was in India till I was nine years old. Philip is my guardian, you know," and then she laughed, as she added, "We have all taken him by storm to-day." "But you were expected, surely?" "No—no more than you were." "We never heard that Major Gascoigne had a ward," remarked Miss Ball, trenchantly. "If you had been in Ramghur nine years ago, you would have heard all about me. Here he comes," as Philip entered and beheld the ladies cheered and clothed, and in a right state of mind. Evidently they were getting on capitally with Angela, and this was important, though she was too simple to guess at her guardian's reason for being particularly civil to his guests. Mrs. Flant had a sharp tongue; she lived in his station, knew all his friends, and was capable of making a very fine story out of this evening's _rencontre_. Angel rather wondered at her cousin's affability, and how well he talked. After a while he said: "You three ladies had better turn in soon, as you'll have a long day to-morrow; you will have to share the same room," he explained, "and to rough it a good deal, I'm afraid." "Not half as much as you in a wet tent," cried Angela. "Oh, I'm all right. To-morrow," addressing himself to Mrs. Flant, "I will do my best to get you on down to Khartgodam." "You are so anxious to be rid of us," cried Miss Ball, coquettish, in Angel's charming tea-jacket with its faint perfume of lilac. "Oh, no, not at all, but my cousin is most anxious to get down to Mrs. Gordon." "Oh, do _you_ know Mrs. Gordon?" "She has known her since she was a child," replied Major Gascoigne. Angel sat by and marvelled. "I will accompany you myself, and put you across the bad bits. But I cannot get leave—in fact, I would not take it, the district is in such an awful condition, and I shall be obliged if you will take charge of my cousin, and hand her over to Mrs. Gordon."