agreed between Lady Lansdowne and the Maharanee of Cooch Behar, that
should she ever return to India as a private person she should come to
a dinner served native fashion, "on the floor." My sister having
returned to Calcutta for her son's marriage in 1909, the Maharanee
reminded her of this promise. Upon arriving at the house, Lady
Lansdowne and two other European ladies were conducted up-stairs to be
arrayed in native garb, whilst the Maharajah's sons with great glee
took charge of myself, of yet another nephew of mine, and of the
Viceroy's head aide-de-camp. Although it can hardly be taken as a
compliment, truth compels me to confess that the young Cooch Behars
considered my figure reminiscent of that of a Bengalee gentleman. With
some slight shock to my modesty, I was persuaded to discard my
trousers, being draped in their place with over thirty yards of white
muslin, wound round and round, and in and out of my lower limbs. A
dark blue silk tunic, and a flat turban completed my transformation
into a Bengalee country squire, or his equivalent. My nephew, being
very slight and tall, was at once turned into a Sikh, with skin-tight
trousers, a very high turban, and the tightest of cloth-of-gold
tunics, whilst the other young man, a good-looking dark young fellow,
became a Rajput prince, and shimmered with silver brocades. I must own
that European ladies do not show up to advantage in the native
_saree_. Their colouring looks all wrong, and they have not the
knack of balancing their unaccustomed draperies. Our ladies all looked
as though they were terrified that their voluminous folds would
suddenly slip off (which, indeed, they owned was the case), leaving
them most indelicately lightly clad. One could not help observing the
contrast between the nervousness of the three European ladies, draped
respectively in white and gold, pink and silver, and blue and gold,
and the grace with which the Maharanee, with the ease of long
practice, wore her becoming _saree_ of brown and cloth of gold. As