and begs the boat may remain registered at the Consulate in your
name, as a protection, for his use and benefit. The Prince has appointed
him his dragoman, but he is sad enough, poor fellow! all his prosperity
does not console him for the loss of "the mother he found in the world."
Mahomed at Luxor wept bitterly, and said: "Poor I--poor my children--poor
all the people!" and kissed my hand passionately; and the people at Esneh
asked leave to touch me "for a blessing," and everyone sent delicate
bread and their best butter and vegetables and lambs. They are kinder
than ever now that I can no longer be of any use to them. If I live till
September I will go up to Esneh, where the air is softest and I cough
less; I would rather die among my own people on the Saeed than here. Can
you thank the Prince for Omar, or shall I write? He was most pleasant
and kind, and the Princess too; she is the most perfectly simple-mannered
girl I ever saw; she does not even try to be civil like other great
people, but asks blunt questions and looks at one so heartily with her
clear, honest eyes, that she must win all hearts. They were more
considerate than any people I have seen, and the Prince, instead of being
gracious, was, if I may say so, quite respectful in manner: he is very
well bred and pleasant, and has, too, the honest eyes that make one sure
he has a kind heart. My sailors were so proud at having the honour of
rowing him in _our own boat_ and of singing to him. I had a very good
singer in the boat."

'Long will her presence be remembered and wept for among the
half-civilized friends of her exile, the poor, the sick, the needy and
the oppressed. She makes the gentle, half-playful boast in one of her
letters from the Nile that she is "very popular," and has made many cures
as a Hakeem, or doctor, and that a Circassian had sat up with a dying
Englishman because she had nursed his wife.

'The picture of the Circassian sitting up with the dying Englishman
because an English lady had nursed his wife is infinitely touching, and
had its parallel in the speech of an old Scottish landlady known to the
writer of this notice, whose son had died in the West Indies among
strangers. "And they were so good to him," said she, "that I vowed if
ever I had a lodger sick I would do my best for that stranger in
remembrance." In remembrance! Who shall say what seeds of kindly
intercommunion that dying Englishwoman of whom and of whose works