They were a ladylike set that we saw to-day; one of them a striking likeness of you—a thing that I deny to everybody else, but still I do see it; and perhaps it is better than nothing.
Munny Majra, Monday, Nov. 4.
We began riding part of the march to-day, and the horses go very well, considering they have had a rest for seven months. My horse is such an angel! I really like him with a sort of minor Chance sentiment.
Umballa, Thursday, Nov. 7.
E. N. and Mr. G. met us this morning, and rode in with us, and in the afternoon we went to see E. N.’s house, which he has furnished very nicely, quite in his mother’s style.
A Captain B. arrived from Cabul, with one or two others, and are to march with us to Kurnaul. They all deny the report of the army ever having suffered further distress than a want of wine and cigars, and they are all looking uncommonly fat.
Captain D., of G.’s body-guard, brought back three of the sheep with which he left us last year, and the 16th are bringing back in safety their pack of foxhounds. That does not look like having undergone great privation. Captain B. brought me two shawls from Sir W. C., very pretty ones—at least we should have thought them so, before we were spoiled by plenty.
Shah-i-bad.
Mrs. B. arrived last night to meet her husband. She did not know he was come, so she went straight to E. N.’s bungalow—the usual method with ladies travelling dâk—and he found her there when he went home from dinner.
He said he had given up the house to her and gone into a tent, and that the two little children had arrived with their dear little stomachs much discomposed by the journey, and had spoilt the sofa whose cover I had admired in the morning.