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Soon twilight began to fall. The devotees one after another took leave of the Bhagavan, and so did Narendra. The day was drawing to a close. The Tem- ple-servant was arranging the lights. The

priests were busy saying their prayers as they stood waist-deep in the sacred waters of the Ganges, purifying themselves body and soul. They were shortly to go to their respective temples to perform the Arati, the evening ceremony. The young men of Dakshineswara had come with their friends to take a walk in the garden. They were strolling about the rampart, enjoying the sweet evening breeze made fragrant by the flowers and watch- ing the slightly undulating breast of the swiftly- flowing Ganges. Some of them, perhaps the more thoughtful, could be found going about by themselves in the solitude of the sacred trees called the Panchavati. Bhagavan Sri Ramakrishna also looked at the Ganges for some time from the western veranda. It was evening. The lamp-lighter had lighted all the lamps of the big temple. The old maid-