And he?--darling rogue of but a dozen or so bright fortnights of the moon, would tyrannize in his manhood even as he tyrannized now; nor would he hear reproach in that household of devoted women. Did not his Father likewise?--who, dying, confessed to _Nanni-Ma_, that the sins he had committed would need many sacrifices and much offering of the sacred cake for expiation. And she, blaming him not, set patiently about his bidding, sparing nothing--the one note of joy in that chaunt of sorrow being this: “He came to his Mother, he loved her enough to come, to trust her;” ... and, as the half-understood regret passed like a shadow over the dying mind, she used all her art to brush it away. “Fear not, my Son; was it not written? Is this not fruit of that past birth of which you have no remembrance. All is illusion even sin; all is good, yes, even sin could we know it ... and your death-ceremonies shall be to be envied of men, buying you sinlessness through many future births. Fear not.... And, when he is of age, the boy, he also shall perform your ceremony ... a new birth to righteousness. Do not fear, my Son.” It is this memory which is in the soul of Big-Mother, as she plays with her son’s son on the terrace in the mystic hour between the lights. But the boy will grow, and there will be a bride to be found for him. What great excitement this means for the Zenana, few know who have not gone in and out among the women. There is the search among caste folk near at hand, or at a distance. Often the Priest of the family goes a tour to consult the horoscope of likely candidates.... There are tragedies when Priest meets Priest and doctors the horoscope to fit desire or sloth; but that chance must be faced by all alike.... No need, at any rate, to fear that marriage will take the boy away, it but brings one more daughter to Big-Mother ... a shy, small person--among the orthodox, aged ten or thereabouts, who keeps eyes on floor demurely the first year of marriage, in the presence of whomsoever; and always, always runs out of the room, or hides face and head, standing reverently in the presence of her lord. Even many years of marriage do not relax this reserve when third persons are by. I have known mothers of grown sons who will carry one aside to whisper what is necessary to be said, but which cannot be said direct to their husbands in the presence of others.... “Let the women be silent.” That a wife may not take her husband’s name is a very general rule throughout India.