I cannot think Charles Elliot and he, by clubbing all the intellect they have, will ever be a match for one Chinese, even of a very pale-coloured button, or indeed an unbuttoned Mandarin, if there is such an improper character.
Our Queen’s ball was very magnificent, and, as I fondly hope it is our last, I am glad it went off so well. I wore my diamonds! I think that sounds well, so the particulars will remain a mystery, but they really looked very well, and George bought a beautiful row of pearls the other day which he lends me. We had Dost Mahomed and his sons and suite at the ball, the first time he had ever seen European ladies in their shameless dress; but he did not see the dancing; George took him into another room. He is a very kingly sort of person, and carries off his half-captive, half Lion position with great tact. By way of relieving George part of the evening, I asked him to play at chess, and we played game and game, which was rather a triumph, considering the native chess is not like ours, and he kept inventing new rules as we went on. I somehow think if he were not a Dost it was not quite fair.
I opine this weather is having an excellent effect on George’s mind. The most opinionated Governor-General never could dream of staying another year after having been done to a turn—I may say rather overdone now, and I cannot think that he is thinking of it, only the letter from England frightened him. But he declares that he wrote home for a successor two months ago. Mr. Colvin, who is as anxious to go home as I am, was in his room when I went there just now, and we made an invited poke, which elicited an explicit answer that he meant to go home, barring any extraordinary accident. I do not know how there could be any accident more extraordinary or more fatal than our staying here another year, and I feel we shall go.
Whenever I am too much beat by the weather even to take a book, I find I am always thinking of packing and tin cases, and whether the railroad from Portsmouth is not a horrid conveyance; and I never dream of anything that is not purely English.
Law! Sister, there is such a gale of wind it has actually blown open a window by breaking an iron bar, and the rain is coming down like smoke, and I rather think, but cannot be sure, that I am coming to life. Of course it is not the actual rains, but they must come in a fortnight, and this is a blessing for an hour.
My new dog is a total failure. I still call him mine, but Captain Macintosh takes care of him. I have been offered another, but I know nothing will do after Chance.
Take care of Dandy and yourself. Ever your most affectionate
E. E.
Miss Eden to the Countess of Buckinghamshire.
CALCUTTA,
July 18, 1841.