‘Batala, Aug. 9, 1888.—As our Dr. Miss Sahiba, Minnie, is away, I have now and then to try my ‘prentice hand a little, but in a very humble, cautious way. I have nothing to do with making pills, but have invested in big bottles of castor-oil and turpentine. I have quinine, of course, and ammonia in case of bites or stings. I don’t revel in physic, like Minnie; and dimness of sight and want of steadiness of hand do not serve to make me more fit to add Doctor to my name. What a blessing it is that some people actually like doctoring! I remember saying to my ... kind-hearted ——, now a doctor, that operations must be trying. “I like them,” was his simple, truthful reply. Well—Buckland liked playing with snails and snakes. De gustibus non disputandum!’
On September the 10th, speaking of a planned trip to Lahore, to see her nephew and niece, she continues:—
‘I propose after parting with the dear ones to sleep at the Mission House at Amritsar, and to-morrow go to the hospital, to see my dear ayah, Hannah, whom we sent there, not knowing that—as we fear—a deadly illness is on her. Dear, gentle, loving Hannah! she has served me faithfully for about seven years; and in all that time I cannot remember her doing one wrong thing, or saying one wrong word. A humble, gentle Christian, good wife, good mother,—ah! she is a sad loss to her family of seven, ... and also to your loving Char.’
‘Nov. 1. 1888.—The first of November, darling Laura, and I am preparing for cold weather. I have taken my chhota janwar[123] (little animal, alias dear Fred’s splendid foot-muff) out of its bag, to keep my feet warm in the morning, before my bath is ready. Eiderdown petticoat, etc., etc. O luxurious Char! It was a pleasure to me to-day to pay F., my new ayah, her first month’s wages; there was a pleasant, half-grateful look in her eyes.... I like paying wages.
‘My last dear ayah is not forgotten. I have given orders for a modest little monument of brick and mortar, to mark where Hannah sleeps. We have no stones here. I went to the cemetery with the mason, ... to give directions, and was struck by finding a tiny but touching memorial already on the spot. A very little wooden Cross, covered with paper, to facilitate the writing of an inscription. There was the date, of course in Urdu, and “Not dead, but sleepeth”; and “The Lord gave; the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the Name of the Lord.” This tribute of love had been placed over his dear Mother’s grave by J., the eldest son here, a lad of about fourteen. I mean to keep to his inscription, when the humble monument is placed over Hannah’s dust. Dear woman! she was of the meek and quiet spirits who are precious to the Lord.’
‘Nov. 23.—The last mail brought me letters both from my loved Laura and dear Leila; to both many thanks. My sunstroke was nothing to tell you about; for though I was sickening two days, the illness only lasted about six hours, and left, thank God, no dregs behind. I awoke quite serene from the state which had so alarmed my good friends, was able that very day to hold a little Bible-meeting, and to go to my city-work next day.’
About this time Mrs. Herbert Weitbrecht, who was then in England, wrote to Mrs. Hamilton, upon the question of Miss Tucker being advised to go home. As will be seen from the following little extract, her view was strongly adverse to this step.
‘For one thing, the cold, in which Mrs. —— revels, would try the Auntie very severely. But there is more than this. You know she used to speak very freely to me; and I have a strong impression that she did not let you and her other friends at home know how much she suffered from the parting, how great a wrench it was to her. She used to say that she ... dreaded above everything the thought of having to go through such partings again.’
Probably no persuasions would have induced Miss Tucker to return. She had steadily made up her mind that in India she would live and die. Unless, indeed, she should be called elsewhere! At this very time she was deeply interested in the Andaman Islands, over which her nephew, Major Louis Tucker, had been appointed Chief Commissioner. On learning that a Mission among the Convicts was sorely needed there, she is said to have offered herself for the purpose,—if she could do good by going. Probably she thought of it as merely a temporary thing; as inaugurating, not as carrying on permanently, the work. But at her age, and in her feeble health, the very suggestion shows marvellous courage and energy.