splendid sketching lights—­they have been thorns in the flesh—­and, worst of all, regular colonial experiences of servants—­one went off at a day’s notice—­and for two or three days we had nobody but Rex’s orderly, such a handy, imperturbable soldier, who made beds, cooked the dinner, hung pictures, and blew the organ with equal urbanity.  He didn’t know much—­and in the imperfect state of our cuisine had few appliances—­but he affected to be au fait at everything—­and what he had not got, he “annexed” from somewhere else.  One of our maids uniformly set tumblers and wine-glasses with the tea set, and I found “William” the Never-at-fault cleaning the plate with knife-powder, and brushing his own clothes with the shoe brush.  However, we have got a very fair maid now, and are comfortable enough.  Our house is awfully jolly, though the workmen are yet about.  The drawing-room really is not bad.  It is a good-sized room with a day window—­green carpet and sofa in the recess—­window plant shelf—­on one long side of the wall—­a writing-table between two book-shelves—­and oh! my dear, I cannot sufficiently say the pleasure as well as use and comfort all my wedding presents have been to me.  You can hardly estimate the comforting effect of these dear bits of civilization out here, especially at first when we were less comfortable.  But the refinements of comfort, you know, are not to be got here for love or money as we get them at home.  Your dear book and inkstand and weights (uncommonly useful at this juncture of new postage), etc., look so well on my writing-table—­on which are also the Longleys’ Despatch Box—­Frank Smith’s blotting book—­my Japanese bronzes, Indian box, Chinese ditto, Japanese candlestick and Chinese shoes, etc. of Rex’s—­our standing photos, table book-stand, etc., etc.  You can’t imagine how precious any knick-knacks have become.  My mother’s coloured photo that Brownie gave me is propped in the centre—­and we have bought a mahogany bracket for my old Joan of Arc!!  We have hired a good harmonium.  Altogether the room really looks pretty with a fawn-coloured paper and the few water colours up—­round table, etc., etc.  Our bedroom has a blue and white paper, is a bright, airy, two-windowed room, with a lovely eastward view over the river—­the willows—­and the pine woods.  Our abundant space mocks one’s longing to invite a good many dear old friends to visit one!  We have much to be thankful for—­which excellent sentiment brings me to the Cathedral.  It would be a fine, well-appointed Church even in Europe.  It stands lovelily looking over the river, surrounded by maples, etc., etc. (and to the left a beautiful group of the “feathered elms” of the country).  There is daily Morning Prayer at 7.30, to which we generally go, and where the Bishop always appears.  There is a fair amateur choir, and a beautiful organ built by a man who died just when he had completed