All this time I was doing little or nothing for the male lepers. My monthly subscriptions were not sufficient to allow of my extending any gifts to them, much as I should have liked to have done so. Brother John undertook to provide them with tobacco, but he could do no more; for his salary amounted to but Rs. 50 (about £3 10s.) a month, out of which he had to keep himself and to feed many hungry sailors who found their way to his rooms. The native women, too, in the other wards were asking me to bring them fruit. Feeling myself cramped from want of funds, I took counsel with a dear friend of mine, Miss O’Brien, who lived opposite our house, and who had assisted me in many ways with my work. She was the eldest of a large family, who were left almost penniless on the death of their father. Instead of asking alms of friends and acquaintances, she opened a school for young children, and by dint of hard and constant work, managed to support and assist the whole family until they were able to work for themselves. Another sister is the possessor of a fine soprano voice, which was trained in England by Signor Visetti. She is now one of the most popular singing-mistresses in Calcutta, and is able to assist her elder sister in keeping their old mother in comfort. These two admirable girls became greatly interested in my work among the lepers. The elder one read my articles to the school children. Over a hundred scholars were told of Bella and Daisy in the Leper Asylum. They raised a subscription among themselves, and sent me various small sums from time to time. The school-mistress, being cleverer than I am at book-keeping, took charge of my subscription-book and fund-money, giving me what I required every week for the lepers. She would have liked to have accompanied me on one of my visits to the asylum, but her mother forbad her doing so, which, considering her position as head of a large school, was perhaps wise. Finding our Leper Fund getting low, and myself unable to do anything for the male lepers, my friends and I put our heads together one Sunday afternoon, and wrote out an appeal for more money, which we had printed and distributed round Calcutta. We also thought out a programme for an entertainment to be given in aid of the Leper Fund, to which we would all contribute help. I suggested that a lady pianiste should play a solo, my friend should sing something, we would ask a couple of gentlemen friends to sing also, the school children could wind up the first part with the pretty Highland schottische they had danced in the theatre on their last prize distribution day, and that I would arrange for the acting of “Our Bitterest Foe,” a pretty little play for three actors, which would fill the second part of the programme. Alas! the getting up of any performance is not at all so easy as it seems. Mrs. De Montmorency Smith will not promise to take part in any concert without first having had the names of the other performers submitted for her approval. Then Miss de Courcy Jones will not perform unless she can choose her own place on the programme. The men, I must say, generally behave better. Having promised their help in the good cause of charity, they do not often worry one with petty tricks. Our proposed play was a difficult one to cast. Those of my readers who have seen it performed in England will remember that each of the three characters requires a deal of sound, strong acting. I had helpers in plenty; for amateur actors of a sort are not scarce in India; but they were not the right kind. Strange it is that almost every amateur actor is a low-comedy man! Our first rehearsal was altogether ridiculous. The man who essayed the part of the dignified Prussian General, Von Rosenberg, considered it the correct thing to sit in the presence of a lady with his feet on a chair! I had arranged my drawing-room as a stage, and had put each chair in its place, so, of course, could not allow the General to upset everything. When I told him of it, he answered stiffly, “That he wanted to make the part as natural as possible, and that men, when taking their ease, do sit in that position.” Knowing that a play cannot succeed, if each actor is allowed to adopt what “business” he pleases, I told him that Mr. John McLean had taught me his way of playing the piece, and that I should prefer it done according to his instructions. My General removed his feet from the chair with an angry grunt. I discovered that he stammered on occasions of excitement, and when he looked at me and commenced his first speech, saying, “You are s-s-s-s-s-s—ad, Mademoiselle?” my other actor, who was to play the part of Henri de la Fere, and who was listening behind a screen, burst into such a fit of laughter that we were unable to proceed for some time. On hearing this, the General got up from his chair and walked up and down the stage in long strides, calling out to Henri to come and play the part himself, if he could do it better. He cooled down after a time and we were able to resume. When he came to the lines, “I am a Prussian, Mademoiselle,” he emphasized the word “Prussian” by banging his fist down on the table with so much violence, that I, who was sitting on the opposite side following his speeches with the book, was startled and dropped it. This provoked repeated roars of laughter from Henri, which so incensed the General that he refused to say another word. I did not press him to do so; for I saw that his acting would not pass muster; so we partook of afternoon tea and passed things off pleasantly with some music. When the amateurs had gone, I decided to abandon my idea of a play and have a concert only, and to engage the Calcutta Town Hall for the occasion.

I found I had many kind friends to help me in getting up my concert. Besides the performers, who gladly offered their services free of all charge, was Mr. George, a clever artist, who was at that time engaged on an illustrated paper called The Empress, and who designed the programmes for me; Messrs. Thacker, Spink and Co., who provided and printed them free of charge; the Great Eastern Hotel Company, who sent their workmen with flags and drapery to decorate the Town Hall; and a number of other good people who all helped to make the evening a success. The Volunteer band, under Herr Kuhlmey, played during the interval, and also after the concert. Brother John and I had a hard day’s work before us in arranging the stage and decorating it with flowers and fairy lamps. He procured a quantity of evergreens, and between us we managed to make the stage look very well. He had a large model of a ship that had been made by the sailors, and of which he was justly proud, arranged among the flags and flowers in the centre of the stage where the audience could see and admire it to their heart’s content. Brother John and my husband took the tickets and showed the people into their seats. The concert was a success in every way. Mrs. Bushby, a silver medalist, and one of the best pianists in India, played the accompaniments. The soloists were Miss O’Brien, Miss Stuart, Mrs. Turnbull, Mr. Eastly, Mr. Hartland, and Father Hopkins, all well-known amateurs of Calcutta. I recited two pieces, and received a very hearty greeting from the crowded audience when I went on the stage. I thought that after all the hostilities we had encountered in connection with this leper question, that I should have a small house; but though none of the officials connected with the Leper Asylum or their friends were present at our concert, so many other people came that we had to provide more chairs to meet them all, and the Town Hall was quite full. I plucked up courage on seeing this, and recited in my very best style, gaining a hearty encore from my audience, who seemed to be thoroughly pleased with what I did. Miss O’Brien was, of course, the prima donna of the evening, and all the other performers were most successful with their songs.