I cannot tell why the dislike had arisen within me at the thoughts of returning; but the journey was so long, and the time of year so trying, and on the top of that there was the feeling that a man whom we had known and liked had just died in the house, and that if we went back it would be to rooms that were full of his things, and associations quite unlike those we had left behind us. Maybe that a warning of all that was yet to come filled me with some unknown presentiment of evil; but it seemed as though our return there was inevitable. Within twenty-four hours after we had heard of Mr. Heath’s death came the letter offering Manipur again to my husband. I watched his face light up as he read it, full of eagerness to get back to the place he loved, and I knew that I could never tell him that I did not want him to go. My reasons for not wishing to return seemed childish, and I thought he would not understand the superstitious ideas which filled me with dread at the idea of going back. So when he came to me with the letter and asked me to decide whether we should say yes or no to it, I said we had better accept what it offered. As it was so late in the year for travelling, and the weather so hot and unhealthy, my husband decided to leave me in Shillong on his way to Manipur, and let me follow in October. It was with a heavy heart that I superintended the arrangements for the return journey. An undefinable dread seemed to predominate over all I did, and I bid good-bye to my husband when he left me behind in Shillong with a very heavy heart, and my anxiety was not lessened when I heard from him day after day, giving me terrible accounts of all he was going through on the way. Every one of his servants, with the exception of the Khitmutghar, got ill with fever and other complaints peculiar to the time of year. They had to be carried the whole way, and my husband had to cook his own dinner and groom his horses himself every day, besides having to unpack all the necessary tables and chairs at each halting-place, and do them up again before starting off next morning. It was only a mercy that he did not get ill himself to add to the other miseries, and that I was not there to make extra work for him. Very glad was I to hear from him at last that he had arrived safely at Manipur. I don’t think he felt very bright at first. He was quite alone there. The regiment was still away in the Chin Hills, and rumours were afloat that when it did return most of the men were to be drafted to Shillong, and only a wing left to garrison Langthabal. My husband complained, too, that the Residency had somewhat gone to seed since we left. During Mr. Heath’s illness and the time which elapsed between his death and our return the servants had all taken a holiday, so there was a good deal to be done to get things into order again. Several rooms in the house that contained the dead man’s effects were kept locked