﻿LIFE AND WRITINGS OF AVYAR. 347 



her fatlier, whose order she wished strictly to obey, 

 and who might perhaps think she had killed her 

 husband when she came back without him. In this 

 deplorable situation, she wandered about in a neigh- 

 bouring; village, sighing and weeping ; this was ob- 

 served by a Bramin, who asked lier the cause of her 

 tears. She intormed him of her sad misfortunes, 

 and all the circumstances of iier former life, so far as 

 she herself knew them. At this he was greatly af- 

 fected, bid her come to his house, and promised to 

 take care of her as one of his own daughters. She 

 can'^', and behaved in such a manner that she en- 

 deared herself to him and to all his other daughters, 

 who treated her as a sister. When this good man 

 died, he divided his great estate in equal portions, 

 and she got so much that she built a Sliettrum, 

 wherein she passed her days religiously, and charita- 

 bly treated the pilgrims and religious travellers who 

 came to lodge there by night, with milk, rice, fruits, 

 and all the victuals she could atford. At. the same 

 time she endeavoured to improve by them in know- 

 ledge and virtue, asked their advice, requested them 

 to relate to her the circumstances of their lives ; and 

 did the same respecting her own life and adventures, 

 her object in this being to pass the time in a mutu- 

 ally agreeable and useful manner. When she had 

 continued so for several years, it happened that her 

 husband came as a j)ilgrim to the same Shettrum, 

 and was entertained by her in the same kind majjmer 

 with which she received and entertained the other 

 travellers: — Neither knew the other. When she re- 

 lated also to him her adventures, he was surprised to 

 find his wife in this virtuous person, and that he 

 himself had so great a share in what she related. He 

 admired her virtue and faitlifulness, but was greatly 

 confused in his mind, feigning to fall asleep during 

 her discourse, but passed tlie night in the utmost anx- 

 iety. Before sunrise he arose, took his stick and 

 little bundle, and m ent oif without saying a word. 



At 



