We made delightful excursions both in Marocco and about Gibraltar. We saw a great deal of Sir John and Lady Drummond-Hay, who was a very sweet woman, and their charming daughter, Miss Alice Drummond-Hay. We thought the Embassy a miserable little house, after the Palazzone at Trieste. The streets were muddy and dirty, all uphill, all horribly stony, like Khaifa. I thought the people in Tangier itself, looked poor, miserable, dirty, diseased, and trodden down, and you must go out very far to find anything like a fine race. After Damascus, and all the other Eastern places I had seen, I thought it horrid, and was sorely disappointed--I had heard it so raved about; but I would willingly have lived there, and put out all my best capabilities, if my husband could have got the place that he wanted, and for which I had employed every bit of interest we had on his side or mine to obtain, but in vain. I sometimes now think that it was better so, and that he would not have lived so long, had he had it, for he was decidedly breaking up. The climate did not appear to be the one that suited him, and the anxiety and responsibilities of the post might have hurried on the catastrophe that happened in the following year, 1887. It was for the honour of the thing, and we saw for ourselves how uneasy a crown it would be. He remarks in his journal-- "My wife and I left the foul harbour-town, the 'Home of Dulness,' and passed a pleasant week at the 'Rock,' enjoying the hospitable society of our fellow-countrymen. I failed in certain _pour-parlers_ concerning the treasure-ship sunk in Vigo Bay. The officer who claimed to know the true position was unduly cautious, and the right was his, more than mine. I endeavoured, but again in vain, to excite some local interest in the ruins of Karteia, the Biblical Tarshish, famed for ships. A local antiquary had made a charming collection of statuettes, and other works of Greek art, by scraping the tumuli which line the two banks of the Guadarrangua, _alias_ First River, and which now represent the magnificent docks described by Strabo. He could not but remark the utter inadequacy of the defences, so famed throughout the civilized world. Fifty years ago they might have been sufficient, but now they have fallen long behind the age, and could not defend themselves against a single ironclad. The fact is now generally recognized. [Sidenote: _A Bad Hurricane at Sea_.]