"But dozens of dogs, I am sure! Philip was always crazy about dogs and horses, yes, and all sorts of horrid things, toads and tortoises and tadpoles. You are quite young," she resumed; "oh, how I wish I were your age!"
"I should not mind exchanging," said Angel, with a faint smile.
"I only wish we could," rejoined Lola with emphasis; "oh, you can't think how bitterly I cried the day I was thirty!"
"Really? Why should you mind, and you look so young." And then with an effort she asked, "Are you staying in Marwar, or just passing through?"
"Oh, I am staying with the Blaines for a day or two, then going up country to my brother Edgar. I've come out to spend a year in India. I think I shall like it immensely, and I hope it will like me. The country is so bright and sunny, and everyone so cheery and so hospitable. I've met several people that I came out with on board ship, and we feel quite like old friends. There's Captain Hailes of the Muleteers, and the little Tudor boy, Sir Capel Tudor; we called him Cupid. He is ridiculously devoted to me. By the way," she went on in another key, "I suppose you have heard that Philip and I were engaged once," and she looked at her with a half-bantering expression.
"Yes, I know," responded the other gravely.
"For quite a long time—nearly four years. You won't," and she raised herself about half-an-inch and lightly touched Angel's hand, which hung limply over the back of the sofa, "you won't like me any the less—for being fond of him—will you, dear?"
"No, certainly not," with an eloquent gesture.
"In fact, it constitutes a bond between us—and you won't care for him any less," and she looked up into Angel's serious eyes, "because he used to like—me?"
"No," and then ensued a long pause.