g in bed,
resting after a disturbed night, at the very hour of our visit to the
Mutiny Memorial.

It was about noon in England; she was fully awake, and had been reading.
Looking at her watch she realised it was time to make a move if she
meant to come down for luncheon. Suddenly the door opened, and _I_
walked into her bedroom, and right round the bed, until I stood between
her and the window, which was to her left as she lay in bed.

I was dressed in ordinary outdoor attire, and seemed much excited and
annoyed about something. I was talking continuously, as it seemed to
her; but she could not make out any connected sentences, and "wondered
what had upset me" so much. She spoke to me, asking what had happened;
but I took no notice of her questions, standing with my face to the
window and my back to her for a few moments. Then I turned round, and
deliberately retraced my steps, past the ottoman, skirting round the
bed, and was just disappearing through the door, when she made a final
effort to attract my attention, asking a very practical question:

"Emmie! Do tell me before you go, what number you are staying at in
Oxford Terrace" (the part of town where I always stayed at that time).
Lady Wincote said: "You made no answer at all, but whisked out of the
door in a great hurry, and then for the first time I remembered _that
you were in India_. It had all seemed so natural, as you had often been
in my bedroom, that I only thought at the moment that you must have
returned unexpectedly to London from the country. My one anxiety was to
know which number on the Terrace would find you, in case you had changed
your address there."

Now all this was, fortunately, written out to me by my friend on the
very day that it happened--_i.e._ 8th January 1891--and _crossed my
letter to her telling her of the incident_. My letter was written a day
or two later I think; but I was keeping a strict diary at the time, and
under date of 8th January have the record of the event, corresponding
with the date of Lady Wincote's letter to me.[3]

[3] Both my diary and Lady Wincote's letter were shown to Mr Myers on
my return to England, also my letter which crossed the one from Lady
Wincote to me. He was greatly interested in the account.

Probably in any case I should have written to tell this friend of the
incident, on account of a conversation I had with Bobajee when he
returned from his ghastly entertainment. I had looked inside the
Me