Dinner was brought into the carriages; and the tourists slept in the afternoon, arriving at Calcutta in the evening.  The Great Eastern, one of the two largest hotels in the city, was prepared to receive them.  Here, as in Bombay and elsewhere, every guest is attended by his own servant.  Half a dozen of them had been retained, but when the omnibuses set them down at the hotel a hundred more could have been readily procured.

The business of sight-seeing began early the next morning with a visit to the esplanade, which may be called a park, though it contains a variety of buildings besides Fort William, which is half a mile in diameter.  The enclosure is a mile and three-quarters in length by about one mile in depth from the river.  The Government House occupies a position next to it, and they passed it as they entered.

“Whose statue is that—­the Duke of Wellington?” asked Louis, as he walked on one side of Sir Modava, with his mother on the other side.

“Not at all; most of our streets and buildings are named after persons noted in the history of India,” replied the Indian gentleman, laughing.  “That is the statue of Lord William Cavendish Bentinck, the first governor-general of India; and many important events dated from his time, for he suppressed the suttee and thugging.”

“Thugging?” repeated the lady interrogatively.

“You have not been told about it; but I will give you its history when we have time, for here are the Eden Gardens,” replied Sir Modava.

“Not the Garden of Eden?” suggested Mrs. Belgrave.

“Only named for it; but it is a very beautiful garden in English style, though the trees and plants are, of course, different.  It has water enough for variety; and there is no difficulty at all in getting it, for the city is hardly above the river at high tide.  All there is of the fort you can see from here.”

“But what are those things over the other side of the park?”

“They are all tanks; and, of course, they are to hold water.  Each of them has its name, generally Indian.  Now we will walk across to the Chowringhee Road, where the finest private residences of the city are situated.  On our left is the Government House, which we passed when we came in.  It is a fine building, and it has a large garden of its own.”

“But what is it for?” asked the lady.

“It is the residence of the governor-general, generally called the viceroy; and he has his offices there.  Now, if you look beyond Fort William, you will see the race-course.”

“I don’t care for that,” replied Mrs. Belgrave, whose memories of the sport were anything but pleasant.

“Near it is the presidency jail, and there are two hospitals farther along.”

The party walked along the road to view the residences of the nabobs, and returned to the hotel, where they seated themselves on the large veranda overlooking the street.  The first thing Louis did was to look at a thermometer he discovered on a post.