The Rajah and I had only been a few weeks in Kuching when he had to leave me and go on an expedition to the interior, and I was left alone in the Astana with a maid whom I had brought from England. She was an ordinary sort of woman, with no capacity for enjoying anything that was not European. She left me soon after, for, as she said, she did not like living in such an outlandish place. With this solitary exception there was, at this time, no one in the Astana with whom I could speak, as I did not know Malay. There was, however, the Rajah’s butler, a Sarawak Malay, who had been with the first Rajah Brooke for some years. At the Rajah’s death, my husband took this man into his service. He was called Talip (a name signifying light). Talip knew a few words of English, and he and I became great friends. He was good-looking, taller than most Malays, with dark, intelligent eyes, a black moustache, and an abundant crop of hair forming a short curly fringe under his head-handkerchief, which he folded round his head with consummate skill. He was a bit of a dandy, and very neat in appearance. He wore a white jacket, under which appeared the folds of his yellow-and-black sarong, white trousers, and he walked about with bare feet. He was a favourite with all classes in Kuching, for his many years in the first Rajah’s service had endeared him to the people. During the Rajah’s absence I got a great deal of information out of Talip, and the way he managed to make himself understood in his broken English was wonderful. One day I said to him, “I want to see the Malay women of Kuching. Ask them to come here.” Talip answered, “Certainly. I bring my two wives play with you!” I gently suggested that, together with the two wives, the ministers’ and chiefs’ wives and daughters might be included in the invitation. After talking the matter over, Talip and I settled that I should hold a reception--my first reception in Sarawak--and that he should be the chamberlain on the occasion and invite, in my name, the principal women of the place. My life now began to be interesting, for Talip and I had a great many preparations to make and plans to talk over. The dining-room of the Astana was large, and could accommodate about two hundred and fifty guests. I kept impressing on Talip that none of the ministers’ and chiefs’ lady relations should be forgotten, as it would never do to create jealousy on this my first introduction to the women of the country. I found out that the Datu Bandar, the Datu Imaum, the Datu Temanggong, and the other chiefs all had wives, sons, daughters, and grandchildren galore. “They must all be invited,” I said; “for I must know them and make friends with them.” I was then initiated by Talip into the proper manner of giving parties in Malayland.