had only been able to spend eighteen months out of India, and I felt the need of change of climate and a little rest after so many years of continued hard work.  Under the existing regulations a Commander-in-Chief could have no leave.  Lord Cross had tried to remedy this hard rule by bringing in the ‘Officers’ Leave Bill’; but as he informed Lord Lansdowne it was impossible to get it through the House of Commons that session, I was obliged very reluctantly to beg to be allowed to resign my command in the spring of 1893.

Before returning to Simla for really the last time, my wife and I made another trip to Burma as far as Mandalay, and after this was over we paid a most interesting visit to Nepal, having received the very unusual honour of an invitation to Khatmandu from Maharaja Bir Shumsher Jung Rana Bahadur.

Khatmandu is about a hundred miles from our frontier station of Segowli, by a very rough road over a succession of steep, high hills and along deep, narrow valleys, which would have been quite impossible for a lady to travel by but for the excellent arrangements made by the Nepalese officials; the last descent was the worst of all; we literally dropped from one rock to the next in some places.  But on reaching the base of the mountain all was changed.  A beautifully cultivated valley spread itself out before us; comfortable tents were prepared for our reception, where we were met by some of the State officials; and a perfectly appointed carriage-and-four was waiting to carry us on to Khatmandu, where we were received by the Resident, Lieutenant-Colonel Wylie, and his wife, old friends of ours.  That afternoon the Maharaja paid me a private visit.

The next morning the official call was made, which I returned soon afterwards; and in the evening the Maharaja, accompanied by his eldest son and eight of his brothers, all high officers of state, were present at Mrs. Wylie’s reception, wearing military frock-coats and forage-caps.  They all spoke English fluently; their manners were those of well-bred gentlemen, easy and quiet, as free from awkwardness as from forwardness; each, coming up in turn, talked very pleasantly to Lady Roberts for a time, and then made way for someone else.  The Maharaja is extremely musical, and has several well-trained bands, taught by an English bandmaster; three of them were in attendance, and were directed to play selections from our favourite operas, and then a number of the beautiful plaintive Nepalese airs.  Altogether, we passed a most agreeable evening.

The following day a review of all the troops (18,000 men and 78 guns)[8] was held on a ground one mile in length by half a mile in breadth, perfectly level and well turfed.  It would be considered a fine parade-ground for the plains of India, and must have entailed a considerable expenditure of time, labour, and money to make in such a hilly place as Khatmandu.