Page:Krishnakanta's Will (Chatterjee, Roy).pdf/23

Rh When her husband was gone Bhramar wept bitterly for sometime, lying down on the bare floor. Afterwards she rose, and in a fit of vexation tore up the leaves of the book she had taken out of the shelf to read. She did not stop there. She broke all the china in her room; she cut the flowers in the pots, let fly away the birds whose cages she could get at, and did more other mischief she could think of. She then lay down on the bed, hiding her face in the coverlet to indulge in her grief. Meanwhile Gobindalal was on the way to his destination, the boat under sail taking him farther and farther away from those he had left behind.

Bhramar missed her husband very much. After he was gone she could find pleasure in nothing. She told her maid not to get flowers any more, her excuse being they were 'full of grubs.' A game of cards had no interest for her now. As for embroidery, it was trying to her eyes. She told so to the girls to whom she gave away her pattern books, and her gold and silver threads and needles. She cared not what she ate or what she wore, and her hair seemed not to have known the comb since her husband went away. At meal-time she often complained she had no inclination for food. Her mother-in law sent for the physician who prescribed an appetising medicine. But she never took it; she threw it out of the window the instant it was brought to her by her maid.

Things went on in this way till at length her maid's patience was tired. "I mean no offence, madam," said Khiroda, "but of what avail is all this weeping and chafing and fretting? What good is it to refuse food and drink or go without a wink of sleep at night? Master is a very different man from what he used to be. He cares not now to think of you though you be killed with thinking of him. Shall I say it? He loves Rohini."

No sooner had she uttered her last words than she got a smart slap on her cheek.

"Get out of the room, I say; how dare you talk like this?", cried Bhramar, provoked almost into crying.

"Why, your beating me will not stop people's mouths," she said. "The talk in the neighbourhood is that master is in love with Rohini. She was seen coming home from the garden at a very late hour of the night the other day."

It would have been well if the maid had kept quiet. Bhramar was provoked beyond all bearing. She gave her slaps upon slaps, blows upon blows, pulled her by the hair, and pushed her and pinched her. Finally in a fit of passion she burst into tears.

Khiroda was used to hard words and to hard blows besides; and she seldom or never took any offence. But this day as her mistress went beyond the proper limit she was a little annoyed.

"It is useless to beat me, mistress," she began again. "I don't mean any offence, not at all. I wish nothing had happened; and nothing is farther from my heart than to wound your feelings. But the thing is we don't like people should make a fuss about it. You mightn't believe me, but you can inquire about the truth of what I say if you care to."

Bhramar was impatient at her words. "How do you dare to speak this nonsense about my husband?" she exclaimed, half choked with grief and anger. "Am I such a goose as to believe it or inquire about the truth of it? I would sooner believe anything than to give ear to the words of any idle gossip in the village. Oh, I cannot tolerate this from a servant. If you utter another word I will break your silly pate. Get out of my sight!"

It was rather late in the morning when Khiroda, after she had been liberally treated to slaps and fisticuffs, flounced out of the room in anger. When she had gone Bhramar, with uplifted face and tears in her eyes, called upon her husband, saying, "O my lord of my life, my teacher, my guide, could it be that it was this that you refused that night to tell me when I insisted on knowing? Is it possible you love Rohini?"

She had unbounded faith in her husband. She believed that his character was stainless; and the more she dwelt upon it the more convinced she was that sin and he were leagues apart.

Khiroda had no grudge against hisher [sic] mistress, though it must be said that like most women she found pleasure in talking of the private concerns of others. She certainly meant no harm, but she was