marry, you
call it wrong!"

I tried to smile in answer to her laughter. I said in my mind: "My
prayer is not the final thing in this world. His will is all. Let the
blows descend upon my head; but may they leave my faith and hope in God
untouched."

Hemangini bowed to me, and touched my feet. "May you be happy," said I,
blessing her, "and enjoy unbroken prosperity."

Hemangini was still unsatisfied.

"Dearest sister," she said, "a blessing for me is not enough. You must
make our happiness complete. You must, with those saintly hands of
yours, accept into your home my husband also. Let me bring him to you."

I said: "Yes, bring him to me."

A few moments later I heard a familiar footstep, and the question,
"Kumo, how are you?"

I started up, and bowed to the ground, and cried: "Dada!"

Hemangini burst out laughing.

"You still call him elder brother?" she asked. "What nonsense! Call him
younger brother now, and pull his ears and cease him, for he has married
me, your younger sister."

Then I understood. My husband had been saved from that great sin. He had
not fallen.

I knew my Dada had determined never to marry. And, since my mother had
died, there was no sacred wish of hers to implore him to wedlock. But I,
his sister, by my sore need bad brought it to pass. He had married for
my sake.

Tears of joy gushed from my eyes, and poured down my cheeks. I tried,
but I could not stop them. Dada slowly passed his fingers through my
hair. Hemangini clung to me, and went on laughing.

I was lying awake in my bed for the best part of the night, waiting with
straining anxiety for my husband's return. I could not imagine how he
would bear the shock of shame and disappointment.

When it was long past the hour of midnight, slowly my door opened. I sat
up on my bed, and listened. They were the footsteps of my husband. My
heart began to beat wildly. He came up to my bed, held my band in his.

"Your Dada," said he, "has saved me from destruction. I was being
dragged down and down by a moments madness. An infatuation had seized
me, from which I seemed unable to escape. God alone knows what a load I
was carrying on that day when I entered the boat. The storm came down
on river, and covered the sky. In the midst of all fears I had a secret
wish in my heart to be drowned, and so disentangle my life from the knot
which I had tied it. I reached Mathurganj. There I heard the news which
set me free. Your brother had married