dresses for occasions of state, until they are dirty; perhaps for five or six days together; the dresses are then thrown away, and they put on new attire.
5th.—I took leave of my dear Colonel Gardner, and quitted him with a heavy heart, for I saw how feeble his health had become, how necessary quiet and attention were for him, and I knew that, left to the care of natives, his comfort would be little considered.
After my departure, I heard he endured much annoyance from domestic concerns, and that it was too much for his feeble health. He suffered greatly from asthma and violent headaches, and had only recently recovered from an attack of paralysis. I was strongly tempted to return to Khāsgunge when I heard of his illness, but was deterred from a feeling of delicacy: an adopted child has a right to a portion of the inheritance, and my presence might have caused the ladies of the zenāna to imagine a sinister motive influenced me.
A gentleman who was with him afterwards told me,—"During his last illness, Colonel Gardner often spoke of you in terms of the greatest affection, and expressed many times his wish for your presence; I did not write to tell you so, because the hot winds were blowing, and the distance some five or six hundred miles."
Had he only written to me, I would have gone dāk to Khāsgunge immediately; what would the annoyance of hot winds or the distance have been, in comparison with the satisfaction of gratifying the wish of my departing friend? I had lived for weeks in his house, enjoying his society, admiring his dignified and noble bearing, and listening with delight to the relation of his marvellous escapes and extraordinary adventures. His chivalric exploits and undaunted courage deserve a better pen than mine, and he alone was capable of being his own historian.
Colonel Gardner told me, if I ever visited Delhi, he would give me an introduction to the Nawāb Shah Zamānee Begam, the Emperor's unmarried sister; who would show me all that was worth seeing in the zenāna of the palace of the King of
