She was certainly very beautiful by nature, and those who sent her there had exhausted all the resources of art to complete, according to their notions, what nature had begun, and to render her a fitter offering for the king. Her lips were dyed a deep crimson by the use of betel; her dark eyebrows were continued in indigo until they met on her brow; her eyelashes were stained with kohl; the tips of her fingers and her nails were made pink with henna; while enormous gold chains and rings bedizened her person. Already too much saddened by the frequency of such sights, I merely cast a passing glance upon her and went my way; but now, as I see in memory that tiny figure lying there, and the almost glorified form in which I beheld it for the last time, I cannot keep the tears from my eyes, nor still the aching of my heart. About three months or so later we met again in the same place. I was passing through to the school-room, when I saw her joyously exhibiting to her companions a pomegranate which she held in her hand. It seemed to be the largest and finest fruit of the kind I had ever seen, and I stopped to get a closer view both of the girl and of the fruit, each perfect in its kind. I found, however, that the fruit was not real, only an imitation. It was a casket of pure gold, the lids of which were inlaid with rubies, which looked exactly like the seeds of the pomegranate when ripe. It was made to open and shut at the touch of a small spring, and was most exquisitely moulded into the shape and enamelled with the tints of the pomegranate. It was her betel-box. "Where did you get this box?" I inquired. She turned to me with a child's smile upon her face, pointed to the lofty chamber of the king, and said, "My name, you know, is Tuptim" (Pomegranate). I understood the gift. Afterwards I saw her frequently. On one occasion she was crying bitterly, while the head wife, Thieng, was reproving her with unusual warmth for some fault. I interrupted Thieng to ask for some paper and ink for the school-room, but she paid no attention to my demands. Instead of complying with them at once, as usual, she inquired of me, "What shall I do with this Tuptim? She is very disobedient. Shall I whip her, or starve her till she minds?" "Forgive her, and be good to her," I whispered in Thieng's ear.