es home and has tea, after
which we ride or drive or play tennis somewhere. A look in at the Club
for a game of billiards, more work, dinner, and, if we are not going
to a dance or any frivolity, a quiet talk, a smoke, a few more
papers gone through, bed, and the long Indian day is over. All day
_chuprassis_, like attendant angels, flit in and out bearing piles of
documents marked Urgent, which they heap on his writing-table. I begin
greatly to dislike the sight of them.

So you see I have of necessity many hours alone, at least I have some,
and I would have more if G. didn't live within a few minutes' walk,
and every morning, armed with a large green-lined parasol and
protected by her faithful topi, come round to pass the time of day
with me. Her sister, Mrs. Townley, is a very nice woman and kindness
itself to me. I can say, like the Psalmist, that goodness and mercy
follow me. I started from London knowing no one, yet in twenty-four
hours I was fast friends with G. and afterwards with quite a lot of
people on board. I thought when I landed in Calcutta I would be a
stranger in a strange land and have no one but Boggley, "instead of
which" I have G. quite near, and Mrs. Townley says I must come to them
any minute of the day I want to; and there are others equally kind.
You don't want me to give you a detailed account of Calcutta, do
you? It wouldn't interest you to read it, and it certainly wouldn't
interest me to write it. When my friends go wandering and write me
home long descriptions of the places of interest (falsely so called)
which they visit, I read them--oh! I read them faithfully--but I am
sadly bored. Somehow people interest me more than places. That being
so, I shall only inflict on you a little of Calcutta. I like it
immensely. They laugh at me for saying it is pretty, but I do think it
is quite beautiful. It is so much greener than I expected, and I like
the broad streets of pillared houses standing in their palm-shaded
compounds. The principal street is called Chowringhee, and it has some
fine buildings and really excellent shops, where one can buy quite as
pretty things as in London, only, of course, they are of necessity
more expensive; it costs a lot to bring them out. The Clubs are in
this street, the Bengal Club, and the United Service where my brother
would even now be leading a comfortable bachelor existence if he
hadn't had a bothering sister to provide a habitation for.

Chowringhee faces the