He delighted in music: his voice and ear were both excellent, and he taught her many hymns and their tunes.

He also took much pleasure in a little orphan girl whom she was bringing up.

At this time she herself was almost a childless mother, all her Indian-born infants having been victims to the climate; but a few months later Mr.Martyn christened her little daughter Lucy, a child of such gentle, gracious temper that he was wont to call her Serena.

Mrs.Sherwood gives a pretty picture of this little creature, when about eighteen months old, creeping up to Mr.Martyn as he lay on a sofa with all his books about him, and perching herself on his Hebrew Lexicon, which he needed every moment, but would not touch so as to disturb her.

The pale, white-clad pastor, and the child with silky hair, bare white feet and arms, and little muslin frock, looked equally innocent and pure.
Mr.Martyn's house at Cawnpore was at the end of an avenue of palms and aloes: there were two bungalows connected by a long passage, in one of which he himself lived, the other was given up to Sabat and his wife.