Page:Tales of Bengal (Sita and Santa Chattopadhyay).djvu/56

Tales of Bengal some troubled look in his eyes. She was going away, and Gopal kept playing the part of wounded affection with only a word or two of protest, and forthwith started a merry tune. Her heart wanted him to be a good boy, who gave no trouble when she went away; but the heart of her heart wanted him to be a bad, naughty, obstinate boy, who gave her no end of trouble when she went away. Why did he disappoint her? If he were really happy, well and good; let him be as merry as he liked, after she had gone. But oh! if he had only wept a tear or two before she left! "Of course he is sorry!"—she said to herself at last. "There can be no doubt about that! This was only his pretence, lest I should be unhappy. He must be deeply hurt, poor boy! Oh yes, he is! Or why should he start like that? And didn't he go away in a kindly hurry?—Ah! he wanted to hide his tears!"

At dinner, after night-fall, Gopal said nothing. Surama came out of the kitchen, and shading the lamp with her cloth went across the verandah and came into the bed-room. She put down the lamp on the shining brass lamp stand, and was engaged in making the bed when Gopal stole into the room. The plates on the wooden bathing-seat were shining in the dim light; and Gopal, after lingering near them for a little while, suddenly began to twist a lock of her hair round his finger.

"Oh! What are you doing? It hurts!" she cried.

"When does the cake-festival come on?" he asked abruptly. "You will come back then won't you? Who else will make me cakes?"

That one word of affection touched a heart hungry for love. It was not an appeal for cakes. It was a piteous cry for herself. She answered at once. "Oh yes, dear! I'll surely come then, and make you ever so many cakes! My parents are old, and can't eat half as many as you do." Rh