ALICIA was up in time to see the travellers off; with her own hands she filled the provision-basket, and helped Robin to pack her father’s portmanteau. She was resolved to show herself to be a capable, energetic missionary Mem. All her idle days were over: Alicia had grand designs in her head. She looked so bright, animated, and happy as she bade the travellers good-bye, that Robin, as he walked beside his father’s tattu, laughingly observed, “I think that our pretty exotic is taking root already, and promises to climb up bravely. To get so soon over the loss of a piano, the breaking of bottles, and the smashing of porcelain, shows a spirit worthy of Harold’s bride.” What was one of the principal causes of Alicia’s cheerfulness on that Friday morning may be seen from a letter which she wrote to a sister in England on the following Monday. “_February 28, 1868._ “DEAREST LIZZIE,—I promised to give you a full and particular description of my new home at Talwandi; but I would rather delay so doing till I have brought some order out of chaos, some beauty out of confusion. Everything is now in the rough. I am going to be so busy, so desperately busy, that I am not at all sorry that my father-in-law and Robin are away on a preaching tour. I want to give them a grand surprise on their return, and a surprise also to my Harold, who is so dreadfully busy all day long with his native boys or his translations that he has no time to consider whether he lives in a palace or a wigwam.