The Listers are home now and we have been seeing a lot of them. They are delightful people. Mrs. Lister is quite a girl, and so good-looking and cheery. She has the prettiest house I think I ever saw. When we went to call the first time and were shown into the white-panelled drawing-room with its great open blue-tiled fireplace and cupboards of blue china, I suppose it was the contrast with our own rather sordid surroundings, but it seemed to me like fairyland. The hall is lovely, with a gallery all round and most exquisite carving; rose-red velvet curtains, Persian rugs glowing with rich, soft colours, and everywhere great silver bowls of flowers. They are the most hospitable people, and ask us to dinner every night, and to every other meal as well. Mr. Lister told me babu stories last night. Here is one. The Government sent round making inquiries about some Scandinavians. (Please don't ask why Scandinavians, because I can't answer.) The Sub-Divisional Officer forwarded the reference to the different police-stations for report. The babus in charge of these stations hadn't an idea what Scandinavians were, but would have scorned to ask. Three of the reports ran thus: 1. "Honoured Sir, I have the honour to report that the Scandinavian has been concluded in this district and has been removed to Lahserai." (Survey and Settlement operations.) 2. "Sir, I have the honour to report that there has been no Scandinavians in the district this year, but it is raging furiously at Rika." (Plague.) 3. "Sir, I have the honour to report two Scandinavians were seen at Gopalbung. One was shot by Billie Burke Sahib, the other has not since returned." (Tigers.) That is a good, but somewhat involved, story. Another was about a missionary who had been eaten by a tiger. The police wired, "A tiger has man-eaten the Pope of Ramnugger."