The great change of temperature, from the intense heat he had undergone in the summer to the bitter cold of November nights in tents, was too severe a trial for my father.

He was then close on seventy, and though apparently active as ever, he was far from well, consequently the doctors strongly urged him not to risk another hot weather in India.

It was accordingly settled that he should return to England without delay.
Shortly before his departure, an incident occurred which I will relate for the benefit of psychological students; they may, perhaps, be able to explain it, I never could.

My father had some time before issued invitations for a dance which was to take place in two days' time--on Monday, the 17th October, 1853.

On the Saturday morning he appeared disturbed and unhappy, and during breakfast he was silent and despondent--very different from his usual bright and cheery self.
On my questioning him as to the cause, he told me he had had an unpleasant dream--one which he had dreamt several times before, and which had always been followed by the death of a near relation.