Page:Tales of Bengal (Sita and Santa Chattopadhyay).djvu/91

Rh in our home. My heart and imagination had steeped themselves in the colours of that ever memorable twilight and I remained in eager expectation of another dusky evening which was to complete the work of the first. I had forgotten even my anxiety about the examination results.

Suddenly and unexpectedly my father came home. Mother broke the news to him as gently as possible and waxed eloquent over the description of Surama's nameless graces, but she could not deceive my father. He appreciated the value of money far more than he did that of beauty and consequently did not like the match at all. There followed a period of storm and strife; and the joyous strain in my heart was suddenly drowned in an ignoble domestic squabble.

My mother at last resorted to tears. She had given her word to the bride's father, how then could she now withdraw? It would be scandalous. My father melted a little at the sight of her distress, but not enough to serve any useful purpose.

There now appeared on the scene my uncle Radharaman, my father's cousin. He undertook to pilot us all through the troubled waters. He reassured mother. "Now sister," he said, "do not make a fuss. I shall settle everything within five minutes. My brother is the most impractical of men, and it is just like him to upset everything." I do not know what he told my father, and it was only afterwards that I guessed.

At last the day arrived. Mother sent me off, face wreathed in smiles. Our house was crowded with friends and relations. They were all on the tiptoe of expectation to have a sight of this so much-talked-of bride. I felt as proud as a victorious general—as if the beauty of Surama were in some way to my own credit.

The two villages were not very far from each other, Rh