his powers of observation were, and what a hard judge he was.
I feared my husband would be put on his defence, and have to stand his
trial before him. So I endeavoured to hide the true situation behind a
mask of noisy cheerfulness. But I am afraid I overdid the part: it was
unnatural for me.

My husband began to fidget openly, and asked how long my brother was
going to stay. At last his impatience became little short of insulting,
and my brother had no help for it but to leave. Before going he placed
his hand on my head, and kept it there for some time. I noticed that his
hand shook, and a tear fell from his eyes, as he silently gave me his
blessing.

I well remember that it was an evening in April, and a market-day.
People who had come into the town were going back home from market.
There was the feeling of an impending storm in the air; the smell of the
wet earth and the moisture in the wind were all-pervading. I never keep
a lighted lamp in my bedroom, when I am alone, lest my clothes should
catch fire, or some accident happen. I sat on the floor in my dark room,
and called upon the God of my blind world.

"O my Lord," I cried, "Thy face is hidden. I cannot see. I am blind. I
hold tight this broken rudder of a heart till my hands bleed. The waves
have become too strong for me. How long wilt thou try me, my God, how
long?"

I kept my head prone upon the bedstead and began to sob. As I did so,
I felt the bedstead move a little. The next moment Hemangini was by my
side. She clung to my neck, and wiped my tears away silently. I do not
know why she had been waiting that evening in the inner room, or why she
had been lying alone there in the dusk. She asked me no question. She
said no word. She simply placed her cool hand on my forehead, and kissed
me, and departed.

The next morning Hemangini said to her aunt in my presence: "If you want
to stay on, you can. But I don't. I'm going away home with our family
servant."

The aunt said there was no need for her to go alone, for she was going
away also. Then smilingly and mincingly she brought out, from a plush
case, a ring set with pearls.

"Look, Hemo," said she, "what a beautiful ring my Abinash brought for
you."

Hemangini snatched the ring from her hand.

"Look, Aunt," she answered quickly, "just see how splendidly I aim." And
she flung the ring into the tank outside the window.

The aunt, overwhelmed with alarm, vexation, and surprise, bristled like
a hedge