191
No. XX.
MEM-SAHIB.
"Her life is lone. He sits apart;
He loves her yet: she will not weep,
Tho' rapt in matters dark and deep
He seems to slight her simple heart.
For him she plays, to him she sings
Of early faith and plighted vows;
She knows but matters of the house,
And he, he knows a thousand things."
I first met her shepherding her little flock across the ocean. She was a beautiful woman, in the full sweetness and bloom of life. Her talk was of the busy husband she had left, the station life, the attached servants, the favourite
