There, very early in the morning, come the khansamahs of the various Mem-sahibs and buy all that is needed for the day, while the Mem-sahibs are cosy in bed, needing not to worry about house, 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 for tunda beef, which is cold beef, just as tunda pani is cold water, gurrum pani being hot!  I can order what I want at meals.  At first when I wanted boiled eggs and heard Boggley order unda bile, I remonstrated, “Not under-boiled, hard-boiled,” until it was explained to me that unda meant egg.  The native can’t say any word beginning with s without putting a y before it, thus—­y-spice beef, y-street.  When men come to see us I cry, “Qui hai?” and, when the servant appears, order “Peg lao—­cheroot lao,” and feel intensely Anglo-Indian and rather fast.  One trait the language has which appeals greatly to me is that one can spell it almost any way one likes, but that is enough about Hindustani for one letter.

23rd.