flection—the idea of losing one's little dears. But what is to be done? I dread the coming of the 15th of October, when my husband's leave will expire, more than I dread my own death."
"Could you not remain up here with them through the winter?"
"And be absent from my husband, my Lord? Besides, two establishments on 700 rupees a month!"
"That is true."
"If we could send them to England under the care of some friend, we would do so, before the hot weather sets in. But we cannot afford it. Or if my husband had an appointment in some healthy station, out of the plains, then they might be spared to us. The thought of the beautiful roses on their cheeks just now leaving them, and their dear little faces becoming pale and sallow, and their little limbs shrinking till they are almost skeletons—it makes my very heart bleed!" (And the pretty and inge nious little lady took her kerchief, raised it to her eyes, and suppressed something like one of Mrs. Alfred Mellon's stage sobs, which went, straight as an arrow, to the Governor.General's sensitive heart.) "If," she continued, "my husband were a favourite with the Secretary; but he is not—for he is too independent to crave-then the case would be very different."
"The Secretary!" exclaimed the Governor-General, "what has he to do with it?"
