The first glance at the lady of the house made me even more sad, from the indescribable influence of first impressions. She was many years older than Mrs. Gouldsbury, and as many shades darker, yet she was well bred and conversable, and seemed very affectionate to her sister. On reaching the drawing-room I saw a lady, a Mrs. Rose, one of the passengers by the Warren Hastings. She was a guest there until her marriage with a Mr. Rhind, brother of the lady who preceded me at Maldah. This was to me very interesting, as I might thereby obtain some information relative to my beloved Charlotte. Mrs. Rose was certainly no beauty, but had a fine figure and some manner. My unuttered thought was—‘I wonder why people marry after thirty-five.’ As Mrs. Mill conducted me to my room she gave me this information, and I believe I expressed something of the kind. She said it was an old attachment, and this altered the case.

At dinner I met Mr. Mill. He seemed very unlike my beau ideal of a genius, or even a man of high attainments; his figure and physiognomy were alike unprepossessing. I thought—‘All my preformed ideas are at fault if you are indeed a man of noble and enlarged mind.’ When dinner was concluded some little bustle in the verandah announced an arrival, and the name of Dr. Rhind excited my attention. I felt interested to see one who had been loved in spite of time and change; but when I turned, my astonishment was extreme.