Page:Tales of Bengal (Sita and Santa Chattopadhyay).djvu/79

Rh troublesome intruders into my life? I had never read a book of poems, and I do not remember ever having been famous for philanthropy and charity. Yet here was I fretting myself to sleeplessness for this dying girl, whom even the Creator could not save? She was no relation, nor was I charmed by hers looks. Still I stood there, I scarcely knew why.

We read in the Mahabharat that taking advantage of a single moment's impurity, Shani, the god of misfortune, entered the body of King Shribatsa and nearly marred his life. So, in a second, it was with me. The same god seemed to enter my mind, taking advantage of a single moment's weakness. I do not know otherwise why I should have roamed about the house like one possessed, day after day. At the same time I had to concoct plans for escaping Molly's importunities, and there at least I displayed considerable ingenuity.

Nirjharinee, as I have said, was no beauty. And the fell disease to which she had fallen a victim was enough to scare away the most romantic imagination. Yet I could not rest without looking at her pale eager face and large anxious eyes at least six or seven times a day. And as I looked at her my uneasiness continually increased. Some one incessantly seemed to whisper in my ears: "You could do her good, but you are not doing it."

The post used to arrive at four or five in the evening. Formerly I waited at home for it; but now to escape Molly, I had taken to going out in the evening and returning late. I passed by Nitya Babu's house several times a day. My eyes remained fixed on a certain window of the house. Just at the time when the postman was seen advancing, Nirjharinee came and stood by the window, clutching the iron bars with her weak hands. I could see her heart clearly through her eyes. And I heard even more distinctly than with my ears, what her heart prayed for. Only a few Rh