George gave a farewell dinner to the Cameronians yesterday. They are off for China to-morrow, and we had all the chief authorities to meet them—seventy people. Fanny and I. excused ourselves, and picked up a few of the crumbs that fell from their table, and had a quiet evening. The soldiers all rather like this expedition.
I suppose the weather is very hot out, but hitherto we have kept this house wonderfully cool—our visitors say much too cold. I am afraid that will not be the complaint next month, but in the meanwhile it is all so clean and so solid and so gentlemanlike, and it is such a pleasure to be settled, and then I sleep so comfortably in the mornings (Wright has to wake me regularly), that I never felt so kind to Calcutta. That is the good of contrast. If it had not been for the fatigue of the march it might have been objectionable; I like a good long sleep, don’t you?
Last night was the Town Hall ball. We made ourselves, with much trouble and infinite
