search there. Kamal Mani, remaining in Govindpur, continued to look
for the lost one.

CHAPTER XXIV.

EVERY SORT OF HAPPINESS IS FLEETING.

The happiness for which Kunda Nandini had never ventured to hope was
now hers; she had become the wife of Nagendra. On the marriage day she
thought, "This joy is boundless; it can never end!"

But after the flight of Surja Mukhi, repentance came to Kunda Nandini.
She thought: "Surja Mukhi rescued me in my time of distress, when but
for her I should have been lost; now on my account she is an outcast.
If I am not to be happy, it were better I had died." She perceived
that happiness has limits.

It is evening. Nagendra is lying on the couch; Kunda Nandini sits at
his head fanning him. Both are silent. This is not a good sign. No one
else is present, yet they do not speak. This was not like perfect
happiness; but since the flight of Surja Mukhi, where had there been
perfect happiness? Kunda's thoughts were constantly seeking some means
by which things could be restored to their former state, and she now
ventured to ask Nagendra what could be done.

Nagendra, somewhat disturbed, replied: "Do you wish things to be as
they were before? do you repent having married me?"

Kunda Nandini felt hurt. She said: "I never hoped that you would make
me happy by marrying me. I am not saying I repent it. I am asking what
can be done to induce Surja Mukhi to return."

"Never speak of that. To hear the name of Surja Mukhi from your lips
gives me pain; on your account Surja Mukhi has abandoned me."

This was known to Kunda, yet to hear Nagendra say it hurt her. She
asked herself: "Is this censure? How evil is my fate, yet I have
committed no fault; Surja Mukhi brought about the marriage." She did
not utter these thoughts aloud, but continued fanning.

Noticing her silence, Nagendra said: "Why do you not talk? Are you
angry?"

"No," she replied.

"Is a bare 'no' all you can say? Do you not longer love me?"

"Do I not love you!"

"'Do I not love you!' Words to soothe a boy. Kunda, I believe you
never loved me."

"I have always loved you," said Kunda, earnestly.

Wise as Nagendra was, he did not comprehend the difference between
Surja Mukhi and Kunda Nandini. It was not that Kunda did not feel the
love for him that Surja Mukhi felt, but that she knew not how to
express it. She was a girl of a timid nature; she had not the gift of
words. What more could she say? But Nagendra, no