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222 sons in the way which they should go. To-day at luncheon (fortunately we were alone), one of them made a mistake in handing a dish, whereupon his grandfather gave him a resounding box on the ears, knocking off his turban. Instead of going out of the room, the boy went on handing me pudding, sobbing loudly the while, and with tears running down his face. It was very embarrassing, and none of us had enough Hindustani to rebuke the too-stern grandparent.

Later.

This afternoon, when we were having tea in the garden and enjoying Peliti's chocolate-cake, a great outcry arose from the house, and we saw the servants running and looking up to the verandah. Mr. Townley called out to know what was the matter, and received such a confused jumble of Hindustani in reply that he went to investigate. He came back shrugging his shoulders. "It's some nonsense about a 'spirit.' They say it's been appearing suddenly, then disappearing for some time. Now the chokra swears he saw it go up the verandah into a bedroom. To satisfy them, I have sent for my gun, and I'll wait below while they drive the 'spirit' down."