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 and he went out shooting together, and latterly he has come to accompany me on the flute. He played and sang beautifully. We have always thought him very superior to most of the people here. Last Tuesday week, when we had the Helfers to sing here, he wrote me word he had such a bad headache he could not come. Dr. Drummond went to see him as a friend on Wednesday, and said he wished he kept more quiet and that his doctors were more frightened about him. The next day they did stop all visits to him, but then it had become a regular brain fever, and he died on Wednesday night. His wife is supposed to be on her way out, but, as she was in wretched health, it is to be hoped she may again have changed her mind. You cannot imagine in India how the ranks close in the very day after a death. The most intimate friends never stay at home above two days, and they see everybody again directly. It is a constant surprise to me, but I suppose there must be some good reason for it, as it is always the case. I should have thought grief might have taken just the other line, but I suppose they really could not bear it alone here; and then they never are free from the sight of