y; and to her she of her bounty gave a pension. For
Imtiazan, though she never forgot, could always forgive and had never lost
the sense of her duty to relations. She also provided for the old man who
had helped her when a child to build the dust-castles beneath the trees of
her old home; and then, while still young and with enough money left to
keep herself in comparative affluence, she turned her back for ever upon
the profession which she loathed and devoted the rest of her life to the
careful rearing of an orphan girl, whom the desire for a child of her own
and the memories of her own youth urged her to adopt. When she died, the
child who had grown up and under her guidance had married a respectable
merchant, mourned for her as one mourns for those who have lovingly
shielded our infancy and youth; and many of the neighbours were sincerely
grieved that Imtiazan had departed for ever.

Such is the life-history of Imtiazan, one of the most famous dancing-girls
Bombay has ever known--a history that lacks not pathos. After her final
renunciation of the profession of singing and dancing she might have
remarried and in fact received more than one offer from men who were
attracted by her kindliness of heart and by her beauty. But she declined
them all with the words "Marriage is not my _kismet_," which is but
the Indian equivalent of "My faith hath departed and my heart is broken."
Surely the earth lies very lightly upon Imtiazan.

VI.

THE BOMBAY MOHURRUM.

STRAY SCENES.

The luxury of grief seems common to mankind all the world over, and the
mourning of the Mohurrum finds its counterpart in the old lamentation for
the slain Adonis, the emotional tale of Sohrab's death at the hand of his
sire Rustom, and the long-drawn sorrow of the Christian Passion. The
Persian inclination towards the emotional side of human nature was not slow
to discover amid the early martyrs of the Faith one figure whose pathetic
end was powerful to awaken every chord of human pity. The picture of the
women and children of high lineage deceived, deserted and tortured with
thirst, of the child's arms lopped at the wrist even at the moment they
were stretched forth for the blessing of the Imam, of the noblest chief of
Islam betrayed and choosing death to dishonour, of his last lonely onset,
his death and mutilation at the hand of a former friend and fellow-champion
of the faith,--this picture indeed appealed and still appeals, as no other