now. We are both Christians; we are married
for ever. We were both at the mission-school in Rangoon, and we were
married there, "for ever and for ever," so the padre said. We are not
married according to Burmese customs, but according to your religion; we
are husband and wife for ever.'

My friend said nothing. It seemed to him useless to speak to her of the
High Court, five hundred miles away, and a decree nisi; it would have
been a mockery of her trouble.

'Your husband had no right to take a second wife, if you are Christians
and married,' he said.

'Ah,' she answered, 'we are Burmans; it is allowed by Burmese law. Other
officials do it. What does my husband care that we were married by your
law? Here we are alone with no other Christians near. But I would not
mind so much,' she went on, 'only she treads me under her feet. And he
takes her out and not me, who am the elder wife, and he plays music to
her; and I did all for the best. This trouble has come upon me, though
all my life I have acted for the best.'

There came another footstep up the stair, and a man entered. It was her
husband. On his return he had missed his wife, and guessed whither she
had gone, and had followed her. He came alone.

Then there was a sad scene, only restrained by respect for my friend. I
need not tell it. There was a man's side to the question, a strong one.
The wife had a terrible temper, a peevish, nagging, maddening fashion
of talking. She was a woman very hard for a man to live with.

Does it matter much which was right or wrong, now that the mischief was
done? They went away at last, not reconciled. Could they be reconciled?
I cannot tell. I left there next day, and have never returned.

There they had lived for many years among their own people, far away
from the influence that had come upon their childhood, and led them into
strange ways. And now all that was left of that influence was the chain
that bound them together. Had it not been for that they would have been
divorced long ago; for they had never agreed very well, and both sides
had bitter grounds for complaint. They would have been divorced, and
both could have gone their own way. But now, what was to be done?

That is one of my memories: this is another.

There was a girl I knew, the daughter of a man who had made some money
by trading, and when the father died the property was divided according
to law between the girl and her brother. She was a little heiress in