CHAPTER XII. Thursday, May 30, 1839. OUR steady doctor gave his ball last night. He was asked for one by Mrs. L., and found it an easier way of returning civilities than giving a number of dinners. Wright and I have been down two or three times to arrange his house, and put up his curtains, and he had enclosed all his verandahs with branches of trees and flowers, so that it really looked very pretty. He is very popular from his extreme goodnature in attending anybody that wants him; he never takes any fee, and he takes a great deal of pains with his patients, and, moreover, he is a really well informed and liked in society. So every man, body whom he asked to his ball, made a point of going, and they actually danced from eight at night till five in the morning: and they said it was one of the gayest balls ever seen. Saturday, June 1. We had our tableaux last night, and they were really beautiful. I am quite sorry they are over. We had each of them, three times over, but still it is like looking at a very fine picture for two minutes and then seeing it torn up. Mrs. K. as Queen Elizabeth, dragging in Mrs. N. as Amy Robsart, was one of the best, and Medora lying dead, and the Corsair in his 'helpless, hopeless, brokenness of heart,' was also beautiful, but in fact they all were so, and G. is walking up and down his room this morning wishing they would be so good as to do it all over again. The enthusiasm of the audience was unbounded. C. recitatived Lord Byron's words for the Corsair, but wrote songs for Kenilworth; the last, alluding to Amy's death, 'He comes too late,' was worthy of Mrs. Arkwright. After the tableaux were over, W.O.gave his first entertainment, a small supper, to Mrs. K., Mrs. L., Mrs. V., Mrs. N., and all the aides-de-camp, and one or two gentlemen, and, as the ladies would not go unless F. and I. were there, we went down to his bungalow at eleven, leaving G. to see our guests out. W.'s supper went off remarkably well, and his house looked very pretty. St. Cloup thought he had better W.'s give a look at the supper, and when I told him we were going, he said, 'Oh! alors il faut que M. le Capitaine fasse un peu de dépense. Je vais pourvoir à tout cela.' The dresses were magnificent last night, and W. O. looked very well in his corsair's dress. Mrs. N. is not rich, so I make an excuse of her kindness in acting, to send her a green satin pelisse, as Amy's 'sea-green mantle,' and a very handsome lace dress with a satin slip from G. Monday, June 3. G. has had letters from the army up to May 7. The Shah seems to be as quietly and comfortably settled as if he had never left his kingdom, and Sir J. Kean writes most cheerfully about the army, makes very light of the loss of cattle, and says the soldiers were never so healthy. There has been on an average one-third fewer in hospital than is usual in cantonments and very few deaths. The followers of the sirdars were reduced to one hundred, and the sirdars so unpopular that two of our regiments were gone to fetch them in, almost more as guards than anything else. G. and I have been riding about the last three days with Mr. A. looking at the Dispensary and the Asylum and a serai, the three charities of Simla. The Dispensary has been built from the proceeds of our fancy fair last year, and opened by Dr. D., who attends there every morning, and it does so much good that I am quite heartened up into trying another fancy fair this year, and am going to send out the circulars this blessed day. It is an odd list of patients at the Dispensary. There is a Thibet Tartar woman with a Chinese face, and a rheumatic daughter, and there are people from Ladakh, and Sikhs and mountaineers and quantities of little black babies to be vaccinated. I have not The trick of an idea what to do for the sale. the drawings to produce such an immense sum cannot be tried again. Wednesday, June 5. This must go, dearest, G. says, where to, I have not an idea, but I know it will never reach you, it is like going to call upon you, when you are out, which under present circumstances would be uncommonly disagreeable. But no steamer can go for two months, so we must hazard something by that stupid, old-fashioned sailing apparatus. We are all quite well, and the climate quite beautiful, a leetle too hot but not worse than an English August day. Mr. L. gave another fancy ball last night, and yesterday morning we had a deputation from the station to ask us for a day on which they are to give us a ball. We named June 18 (Waterloo and all that), and that is to close the season, and then we are to take to the rains for three months. Saturday, June 8. Our play last night went off beautifully. do not know when I have seen better acting, and Mrs. C. really acts as if she had done nothing else all her life. I suppose it is easier in a room with carpets and chairs, and doors and windows, and then she has been brought up in France, and has the quiet self-possession of a French actress, and her arms are always in the right place, and she does not seem to think about acting; then she sings very well and looked very handsome, so that altogether to Anglo-Indians, who never see female parts acted except by artillerymen, or clerks, it was a great pleasure. We made such pretty scenery, too, with a lattice window, and some steps and a few shrubs and plenty of curtains. After the play they |