The tea-party was supposed to begin at 4 o’clock, so accordingly, I dressed myself in my best garments and was quite ready to enter the dining-room and receive my guests. I had heard a great deal of noise going on outside my rooms since 2 o’clock in the afternoon: the rustle of silks, bare feet pattering up and down the verandah, and, becoming curious, I looked over the partitions and saw women in silken draperies flitting about. But Talip was on guard, and every time I came out, or even looked over the partitions, he said to me, “You must not show yourself too soon.” However, at 4 o’clock I was dressed, and determined to go out, when Talip again, like the angel with the flaming sword at the gate of Paradise, waved me back. He made me understand that I ought not to show myself before 5.30 on account of Malay etiquette, and went on to explain that the Rajah’s subjects should await my pleasure. In his opinion, 9 o’clock would have been preferable for our meeting, but considering my impatience he would allow me to enter the dining-hall at half-past five! So another hour and a half went by whilst I patiently waited to make the acquaintance of my guests, on account of inexorable Malay etiquette. I felt a little anxious, for I did not know a word of Malay, so I took Marsden’s Dictionary with me, and armed with the great volume, at 5.30 punctually, made my entrance into the hall. I was quite taken aback by the charming sight that awaited me as I entered the dining-hall. The rows of women and young girls seated on the floor round the room, with their silken brocades and gauzy veils of rose, green, blue, and lilac, reminded me of an animated bed of brightly coloured flowers. I noticed what beautiful complexions most of these women had, of the opaque pale yellow kind, like the petals of a fading gardenia. Their dark eyes and long eyelashes, their arched eyebrows, their magnificent black hair, their lovely feet and hands, and their quiet manners, were to me quite entrancing. As I came into the room, Talip told them to get up, and the sound of their rustling silks, all moving together, was like a gentle wind sighing through the branches of a bamboo forest. Datu Isa and Datu Siti, the wives of the principal Malay chiefs, came forward one on each side of me, and, each placing one hand under my elbows and the other under my finger-tips, led me to the seat prepared for me against the wall, in the middle of a row of women. My pile of cushions was uncomfortably high, so I asked Talip whether I could not have two pillows taken away, but he said: “No, that could not be. Rajah Ranee must have three cushions more than the chiefs’ wives.” Therefore, once again I gave way to the conventions of Malaya.