Dinner is at three, and for this meal every one is dressed with all the exactness imaginable, for ’tis the rarest thing in the world for us to take it alone. One must pay special attention to one’s hair, for in this matter the Calcutta ladies are very punctilious; and I can’t tell you how grateful I am for the present simple and elegant mode of wearing it. Should it be, as you’ll remember we heard was to be the case, that the cumbrous style of head-dress which is rallied so often in the ‘Spectator’ were to come again into vogue, these ladies would adopt it without a moment’s delay, I’m positive, and suffer the torments of martyrs owing to its weight and heat. The gentlemen, all wearing white jackets, have an air of the most agreeable coolness, and behind all our chairs stand boys with flappers or fans,—so that, in spite of the excessive seasoning of the food (the favourite dish being meat or vegetables dressed in a currey with spices), we suffer less from the heat than might be expected. But then, as I am perpetually being told, this is only the cold weather yet.
After a second short rest comes the season for going abroad. One may go fishing or fowling on the river, walk in the park called the Loll Baug,[06] and listen to the band of music that plays beside the great tank or pond, ride out in a chaise or a palanqueen, or take the air in a budgero; and there’s continual parties made to spend the evening in some garden at a little distance from the town, whether that of the Armenians, or Surman’s, or those of two rich Gentoos, called Omy Chund and Govinderam Metre, close to the Morattoe-ditch. Sometimes I am called to attend Mrs Freyne to an outcry, which in Britain would be styled a sale by auction, either of the goods of some deceased person or of a parcel of toys which have been brought from China or the great islands by some gentleman travelling on the Company’s occasions. This last is what pleases me best, for it seems to me sadly unfeeling to go bidding for the possessions of a person to whom you may have been talking two days before without a thought of sickness, far less death; but every one here cares infinitely more for the commonest Europe goods than for the most delicate toys from the East. This I could not understand; but one day Miss Dorman came to visit me, and found me setting up in my chamber the things I had bought with a handful of rupees which my papa was so good as to throw into my lap, knowing that I could not bring myself to write a chitt for the value, as is always done in Calcutta.
“What do you think of my toys, miss?” I said to the young lady.
“Vastly pretty,” she said. “But do you really care for ’em, miss?”
“Sure they’re prodigious delicate and strange,” said I.
“Why, yes; but they are all country-made,” she said. “I used to be pleased with such things once, but in the hot weather I longed to throw ’em all away, and put up the commonest English stuff in their place; and at last I bid my iya take them somewhere so that I should never see them again.”
Do you think I shall be like that soon, Amelia? How melancholy must life appear when one can take no delight in such beauties as are to be observed around one, and all for thinking of those upon which one placed but little value when one possessed ’em! But sure the whole polite world, and not only the unhappy exiles that, like myself, have most probably bid farewell to Britain for ever, would cry shame on me for comparing the poor barbarous works of the pagans here with the handiwork of Europe.
But to my day, which bids fair to be as long as some of those of which our Clarissa or Miss Byron write. It sometimes happens that neither Mr nor Mrs Freyne desire my attendance in the evenings, and on these occasions I call for my palanqueen (I have plenty of assurance now, you see), and go to pass the time with Miss Hamlin, who has desired me always to visit her when I have nothing better to do, since the gentlemen are then able to wait upon us both at the same time, and are not torn in two by an anxiety to rush away to the further side of Calcutta. ’Tis seldom, indeed, that we are left alone for long—but oh, my dear, I must tell you of the adventure that befell me the first time that I rid out in a palanqueen by myself. I had given the peon (which is the servant that walks before you with a silver-headed stick) the direction of Mr Hamlin’s house, and as he speaks English, I thought myself safely embarked. But scarcely had my equipage left my papa’s door, when I became conscious that the bearers were uttering the most affecting groans and sighs imaginable. At first I paid no attention, thinking that this might be only their way at starting, as I have heard say of the camel; but on the continuance of the sounds, I could not resist putting my head out of the palanqueen and calling to the peon to know what ailed his fellows.
“These gwallers[07] poor weak men, Beebee,” said he, speaking English after his fashion; “not got enough to eat.”
“I’m sure I’m sorry to hear it,” said I; “but what ails them in particular just now?”