home from paying them a flying visit at Agra, is the only hint or shadow of any misunderstanding ever having risen up between her father and herself, so far as we can trace from the correspondence. "I am sorry, dear papa, that you seemed displeased with me before you left, but it was not because I loved you less, dearest papa, but because I was so much taken up with the children that I did not come here as often as I ought to have done." No doubt her father readily forgave the seeming neglect, and rejoiced that her heart was so full of affection that she had enough for her nearest friends, as well as some to spare for her little playmates and others. On the 20th of August she writes:

"My own sweet papa, we are anxious to hear of your arrival at Jhansi, and hope soon to get a letter from there. To-morrow will be your birthday, dear papa, and I wish you many happy returns of it. I got your hookah-glove ready two days ago, but as dear mamma was trying to get a very pretty set of studs for you, and the man who had them having disappointed her, the parcel is still here. Even if she gets the studs now, they will not reach you in time; you must, however, consider them as birthday presents whenever you get them. I have had fever since you left, and my face got worse, but I am now much better, I am happy to say. With fond love and many sweet kisses for yourself, I am your loving daughter,

"H. S. ISABEL FRASER."

On the 21st her father wrote a birthday letter to her, which, however, it is to be regretted, has not been preserved; but one to his wife shows "how much he misses his dear ones on this particular day." Only he knows they are with him in spirit in his lonely house in

Jhansi." Then he gives a most touching account of how, as he holds family worship, he sets a chair for his wife and daughter, and prays for them as if they were present. "How grateful should I be to Him who has watched over and cared for me from my birth till the close of half a century of years," he writes, "and to whom I this day raise my Ebenezer of praise! How grateful should we both be to Him who, for twenty-one years and a half, has preserved us together to cheer and comfort one another along the journey of life! With a lot such as ours has been, how ungrateful must we be if we ever murmur and complain! Let us look forward in the exercise of faith, and hope, and love, trusting the Redeemer at every stage, until first one and then the other is borne by Him across Jordan into the promised land of everlasting rest. Meanwhile, may He permit us to see our dear children reach maturity, following us in as far as we follow Him, and entering upon their duties in the world as His disciples indeed." The letter ends with reference to his wife's fears regarding Isabel. "Having stopped here to write a birthday letter to Isabel, I next determined to post it and keep this back for the chance of a mail coming in from Agra; and having done so, find I did right, as your two letters have thus come, in time for me to say something in reply. The first of these greatly alarmed me about Isabel's state of health. She had not sufficient medicine, after the fever she had just before she left here, hence a return of it. But this must not be overlooked. She evidently requires a course of medicine and careful dietary. The caustic marks will, of course, disappear. I am sure you know that yourself. Have you not seen R―'s hands often Rblack? Yet were they so the last time you saw him?”

C

Adding, in a playful way, "Silly women ought to keep their opinions on things they don't understand to themselves; but they don't, because they are silly women.”

In this same letter her father mentions the arrangements he is making to send their winter things, in order that there might be no further delay in setting out for the hills; and in a few days after receiving the boxes, the mother and daughter set out for Landour, leaving Mr. Fraser alone at Jhansi.

CHAPTER III.

SCHOOL DAYS IN THE HIMALAYAS-VOYAGE TO

ENGLAND.

ABOUT the end of August 1860 or the beginning of September, Mrs. Fraser "laid her dawk"-the expression used in India for "made her arrangements "—to start for the hills. The mode of travelling then in vogue was by the "dawk garree," a close carriage resembling a cab, the luggage being placed in the bottom and covered with a mattress and pillows, the traveller proceeding with a tolerable degree of comfort, sometimes even managing to sleep. The horses were changed about every six miles, and the garree rolled along at the rate of seven miles an hour. In this way Isabel and her mother journeyed from Agra to Meerut, accompanied by their faithful attendant Rahm Ali. At the latter place they had to exchange the dawk garree for the "palki-dawk," or palanquin, and were carried along by four bearers at one time, four others running by their side ready to relieve their comrades at the end of the half-mile. A letter written many years afterwards, when on a visit to the hills from Jeypore, may here be inserted for the sake of continuity, as it not only serves to give her own description of the surrounding scenery round her home for so many months of her early life, but the impression it made upon her. It also shows the improvements civil

isation has made in travelling in India since the date of the letter. Writing from Landour, 1872, to children in Scotland, she says:

"My dear little friends, I have often thought of writing to you, to try and interest you in things connected with this great land, to which I hope many of you will some day come to tell the poor heathen of the way of salvation through Christ. The part of India you have heard most about, I fancy, is Rajpootana, so that perhaps you would like to hear a little about another portion of it. As I am away from Jeypore at present, high up in the Himalayas, I cannot do better than tell you something about this place, and the way in which we travel over the 500 miles that separate us from Rajpootana in coming here. To begin at home: As there is as yet no railway to Jeypore, we have to travel the first 150 miles by what we in this country call a 'dawk garree.' It is a close carriage, very strongly built, so as to bear heavy luggage outside, drawn by two horses, which are changed every six miles. The driver blows a horn when coming near the place for changing the horses, so as to let the people have time to be ready. In this way it takes about twentytwo hours to reach Agra. I will not in this letter tell you anything of the places we pass through, but I hope to do so some other time. From Agra to Saharampore, a distance of about 250 miles, we have the railway; and a great comfort it is after the jolting, dust, and noise of the dawk garree. From Saharampore to Rajpore, at the foot of the hills, we have to resume the less civilised mode of conveyance, the only difference being that, as we have to cross the low range of the Sewalics for twelve miles through the Mohun Pass, our carriage is pulled by men instead of horses, about twenty or thirty