turn to the afternoon, and kept us in reading till dinner-time.
Never mind what people tell you about the books you send. The last set that came by the ‘A. Robertson’ are our chief occupation; now Lady M. Montagu and Mrs. Hemans have given one a very pleasant week, and I have not even wished to begin any of the novels. These good supplies of books you have sent us lately have made a material difference in my life. In the number of lonely hours here a want of books is such a misfortune. The very trashy novels of the day we do not care much about, but any by good authors, or those that you have read and liked yourself are very acceptable. I wish you would say more about the ‘Pickwicks;’ we are all so fond of them. Are we wrong?
We had another frightful storm yesterday at Barrackpore, and I retract my contemptuous opinion of the tropical storms; and at dinner we had the same attack of white ants we had one day last year, only worse. They drove us out of the dining-room into the dark, but soon spread all over the house, and we had at last to
