ps over
the death of the fish." But Kunda was very stupid; that she had cause
to rejoice never entered her head: this silly woman actually cried
over her rival's death.

Kamal Mani not only cheered Kunda, she herself felt comforted. She had
already wept much, and now she began to think, "What is the use of
weeping? If I do, Srish Chandra will be miserable and Satish will cry.
Weeping will not bring back Surja Mukhi." So she gave up weeping, and
became her natural self.

Kamal Mani said to Srish Chandra, "The goddess of this paradise has
abandoned it; when my brother comes he will have only a bed of straw
to lie upon." They resolved to put the place in order; so the coolies,
the lamp cleaners, and the gardeners were set to work. Under Kamal
Mani's vigorous treatment the musk-rats, bats, and mice, departed
squeaking; the pigeons flew from cornice to cornice; the sparrows fled
in distress. Where the windows were closed, the sparrows, taking them
for open doorways, pecked at them with their beaks till they were
ready to drop. The women-servants, broom in hand, were victorious
everywhere. Before long the place again wore a smiling appearance, and
at length Nagendra arrived.

It was evening. As a river courses swiftly when at flood, but at ebb
the deep water is calm, so Nagendra's violent grief was now changed
into a quiet gravity. His sorrow was not lessened, but he was no
longer restless. In a quiet manner he conversed with the household,
making inquiries from each one. In the presence of none of them did
he mention the name of Surja Mukhi, but all were grieved at the sorrow
expressed by his grave countenance. The old servants, saluting him,
went aside and wept. One person only did Nagendra wound. With the
long-sorrowing Kunda he did not speak.

By the orders of Nagendra the servants prepared his bed in Surja
Mukhi's room. At this order Kamal Mani shook her head. At midnight,
when all the household had retired, Nagendra went to Surja Mukhi's
chamber, not to lie down, but to weep. Surja Mukhi's room was spacious
and beautiful; it was the temple of all Nagendra's joys, therefore he
had adorned it with care. The room was wide and lofty, the floor
inlaid with white and black marble, the walls painted in floral
designs, blue, yellow, and red. Above the flowers hovered various
birds. On one side stood a costly bedstead, beautifully carved and
inlaid with ivory; elsewhere, seats in variously coloured coverings, a
large mirro