The Sultana had a very powerful following. She is the “favourite” wife, and is most liberal and generous to those with whom she comes in contact. She is of the same blood as the Amîr, and is not unlike him in decision and strength of character. Habibullah is a man of ability, kindly and genial, but his mother was the handmaiden to one of the Queens (daughter of the Mîr of Badakshan), who, having no children, said, “Go in unto my maid, that I may have children by her.” Habibullah cannot sit in the presence of this Queen without permission: a fact which weighs with Afghan people. I do not know what line the Indian Government would take; but the probabilities are that when the eventful moment arrives the matter will be decided before ever the British could reach Kabul. Judging by the past, I imagine the principals of one party or other would, before many days were over, be in jail, or otherwise _hors de combat_. Should the Amîr live till the little Prince attain adult age and the Prince fulfil the promise of his childhood, I imagine he would hold the throne alone. He is of the type of his father. Habibullah, with the moral support of an English Resident ostensibly keeping in the background, would, I take it, rule wisely. A Resident, I think, would not need a large escort, for a man of tact would be the friend, not the rival, of the King; and the Afghans are now accustomed to the presence of Feringhis in their midst. However, I am talking of things that do not concern me. At the end of January I asked permission to move from my quarters in the Palace and return to my house in the city. I saw more of the English engineers, Stewart and Myddleton, at this time, and it was infinitely refreshing to live again in an atmosphere of wholesome English ideas, rather than breathe the air of an Oriental Court reeking with intrigue. [Sidenote: Divers Discomforts.]