We are very much worried by people planting themselves beside us and favouring us with their views on life in general.  One woman—­rather a tiresome person, a spinster with a curiously horse-like face and large teeth—­sometimes stays for hours at a time and leaves us limp.  Even gentle Mrs. Wilmot approaches, as nearly as it is possible for her to approach, unkindness in her comments on her.  She has such playful, girlish manners, and an irritating way of giving vent to the most utter platitudes with the air of having just discovered a new truth.  She has been with us this morning and mentioned that her father was four times removed from a peerage.  I stifled a childish desire to ask who had removed him, while Mrs. Wilmot murmured, “How interesting!” As she minced away Mrs. Crawley said meditatively, “The Rocking Horse Fly,” and with a squeal of delight I realized that that was what she had always vaguely reminded me of.  You remember the insect, don’t you, in Through the Looking-Glass?  It lived on sawdust.  One lesson one has every opportunity of learning on board ship is to suffer fools, if not gladly, at least with patience.  The curious people who stray across one’s path!  One woman came on at Port Said—­a globe-trotter, globe-trotting alone.  Can you imagine anything more ghastly?  She is very tall, dark and mysterious-looking, and last night when G. and I were in the music saloon before dinner, she sat down beside us and began to talk of spiritualism and other weird things.  To bring her to homelier subjects I asked if she liked games.  “Games” she said, “what sort of games?  I can ride anything that has four legs and I can hold my own with a sword.”  She looked so fierce that if the bugle hadn’t sounded at that moment I think I should have crept under a table.

“Quite mad,” said G. placidly as we left her.

We are going to have a dance to-night.

S.S.  Scotia, Nov. 11.

...  Now we approach a conclusion.  We have passed Colombo, and in three or four days ought to reach Calcutta.

Colombo was rather nice, warm and green and moist; but I failed to detect the spicy breeze blowing soft o’er Ceylon’s isle, that the hymn led me to expect.  The shops are good and full of interesting things, like small ivory elephants, silver ornaments, bangles, kimonos, and moonstones.  We bought various things, and as we staggered with our purchases into the cabin, which now resembles nothing so much as an overcrowded pawnshop, Mrs. Murray remarked (we are on speaking terms again) “I suppose you thought the cabin looked rather empty that you bought so much rubbish to fill it up.”

We were dumb under the deserved rebuke.  We had bought her a fan as a peace-offering, rather a pretty one too, but she thanked us with no enthusiasm.