Page:Stories of Bengalee life - Prabhat Kumar Mukerji.pdf/135

Rh "Did I?"—said Girindra, much vexed. "Anyhow, I will send a porter to fetch her before the afternoon train. See that she leaves—and you had better be careful about the plates."

Maloti said nothing—she only looked at her husband reproachfully with her large, sad eyes.

After breakfast, Maloti and the Benares lady sat in the courtyard, enjoying the warmth of the sun. They talked a great deal. Never since Maloti left Bengal, had she a chance of enjoying a conversation such as this with a lady friend. She had grown quite tired of talking Hindustani to Bhojooa's mother.

It was two o'clock now. The porter from the station was expected every minute. The Benares lady packed up her things and made ready to go. "I have been with you"—she said—"only one day—and yet I feel it hard to part."

Maloti also entertained a similar feeling. She had obtained the companionship of a lady friend in her solitude and it was very soothing to her.

It was half-past two. The porter could not be long in coming now. Maloti said to her friend—"Suppose you did not go to-day but stayed on a few days more. Couldn't you do that? I feel so lonely at times, all by myself. Sometimes I feel like crying."