Lady Burton had soon to face, in these first days of her widowhood, the problem of her altered circumstances. With her husband's death his salary as a Consul came to an end, and there was no pension for his widow. For the last three or four years, since they had netted £10,000 by The Arabian Nights, the Burtons had been living at the rate of £3,000—£4,000 a year, and had kept up their palazzo at Trieste and a large staff of servants, in addition to continually travelling en prince, with all the luxuries of the best hotels, servants, and a resident doctor who always accompanied them. Lady Burton had sanctioned this expenditure because she wished, as she said, to give her husband every comfort during his declining days. Moreover, Burton had looked forward to The Scented Garden to replenish his exchequer. Now Lady Burton found herself face to face with these facts: the whole of the money of The Arabian Nights was gone, her husband's salary was gone, The Scented Garden was gone, and there was nothing left for her but a tiny patrimony. It was therefore necessary that she should rouse herself to a sense of the position. She did so without delay. She determined as far as possible to carry out the plans which she and her husband had made when they were looking forward to his retirement from the Consular service; that is to say, she determined to leave Trieste, to return to London, take a little flat, and occupy herself with literary work. It was a sore pang to her to give up the beautiful home on which she had expended so much care and taste, and to part with her kind
