for the second time—immense tassels of crimson flowers. I did not see much of the garden, as I was tired, and we are to go again. We had a delicious drive home. Charles Cameron is just as fond of cricket as he was in Eden Farm days, and he and Sir E. Ryan (the Chief Justice) have established a cricket club, and when we drove through their gardens the Calcutta Eleven were playing the officers of the ‘Jupiter’ and the ‘Hyacinthe.’ It looked pretty and English, and brought back visions of Prince’s Plain.
We had another dinner of forty-six people to-day. Mr. Macaulay came to my share at dinner. Just as we were assembling for dinner there came on what they call a ‘north-wester’—a most violent storm of thunder, lightning, and wind, which is at its height in a moment. There were hundreds of white-muslined servants rushing about the house, catching at the blinds and shutters, but everything was blown off the table in an instant. I never heard such a row. It cools the air for three or four days; half our guests were shivering, and borrowing shawls; I thought it charming.
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