visitors, or forthcoming dinner-parties. Housekeeping is easy in
India. Boggley thought we had better ask some people to dinner, so we
did, though I pointed out that we had no silver or anything to make
the table decent; and the boarding-house things are none too dainty.
"It'll be all right," said Boggley, "leave it to the servants;" so I
engaged the private dining-room--and left it. I rather trembled when
the evening came and our party walked in, but I needn't have. The
servants were worthy of their trust. The table looked charming, and,
as I had never seen any of the things before, I had a more interesting
time than usually falls to the hostess. What I sincerely hoped was
that none of the guests had seen any of the things before either, but
if they had they possessed great control of their countenances.

Eatables, however, are by no means the only things to be found in
the New Market. Silks, muslins, chicon-work, silver ornaments,
and jewellery keep us breathless, while the pleasant shopman in a
frock-coat and turban offers them at what he calls "killin'" prices.

The China Bazaar is much farther into the city, quite in the native
quarter. It is a real adventure to make an expedition there, and the
owners allow us to poke in back rooms from which we unearth wondrous
treasures in the way of old brass vases; queer, slender-necked
scent-bottles still faintly smelling of roses; old lacquer boxes, and
bits of rich embroidery. I am becoming a Shylock in the way I beat
down prices. I shouldn't wonder a bit when I go home and am ruffling
it once more in Bond Street if, when told the price of a thing is a
guinea, I laugh in a jocular way and say, "Oh! come now, I'll give you
ten shillings."

But to return to Hindustani. I haven't told you all I know. I can ask