All through the cold weather the General's house was full. There were the friends going by the mail to whom an invitation would be of the greatest convenience; there were the friends arriving by the mail who must stay one night to clear their baggage before starting up-country; there were the friends who had entertained him when inspecting at their station, and whose daughters would enjoy the gaiety of the city. He was very fond of ladies, and minutely thoughtful for every detail which might contribute to their comfort or pleasure while in his house.

Over and above all these calls on his time there was still the soldiering. The district covered a considerable area, extending northward as far as Cutch-Bhuj in Kathywarj and including many inland stations such as Ahmedabad, Baroda, Surat, and Khandalla. There was also a detachment of the Marine Battalion in the Persian Gulf. All the arrangements had been made for an official visit to Bushire in the spring of 1896, and it was with great reluctance that the General gave up this trip when he found himself under orders for Quetta.

It was the soldiering that he loved, and it was for this love of the soldiering that he deliberately overworked himself. No personal considerations had any weight. Having no one at home to watch over him, he became recklessly irregular at his meals, and would sit up to all hours of the night writing—endlessly writing. What kept him going were the trips up-country to inspect the outlying regiments and detachments; for in the train he would make up his arrears of sleep, and the rules of politeness secured his punctual attendance at meal-time. The uncertainty of his hours was a matter of some comment at the office, where no doubt it gave rise to considerable inconvenience, and probably not less troublesome was his habit of utterly disregarding the usual luncheon interval. The General was playfully conscious of all these misdemeanours, for on bidding good-bye to his chief staff officer on his departure for Quetta, he said:

Office hours

"Now you will be all right—with a brand-new General whom you can educate to attend the office regularly at eleven, and go home to tiffin at two."

This officer, however, bore him no grudge for his vagaries, and now writes with great affection of his old Chief.

POONA, September 17, 1909.

"As his staff officer there were two points he used to impress on me—'No difficulty' and 'No finality.' Difficulties, like hills, were useful for the exercise they give in surmounting them. There is no difficulty that cannot be overcome somehow. No finality is the watch-word of progress. What may seem best to-day can be improved upon to-morrow, but that is no reason for deferring action indefinitely: 'The best is the enemy of the good.' Act on what seems good at the moment, and trust to time and opportunity to find something better to act on later. But act, and act promptly. This, I think, sums up the principles he tried to instil into me, and his example illustrates his teaching.

"I never served under a chief who thought more quickly, decided more readily, or acted more promptly."

During the last week of November 1894 the Viceroy, Lord Elgin, arranged to hold a Durbar at Lahore. There was to be a great gathering of the native princes of the Punjab, and a concentration of British, Native, and Imperial Service troops. The Viceroy and the Commander-in-Chief both had large camps, to which they invited guests from all parts of India. Having received the offer of a tent and the hospitality of his camp from Sir George White, Gatacre selected the two best-looking chargers in his stable and repaired to Lahore in the highest spirits.