When Oman woke, the sun was high in the heavens, and the bird had gone. During his sleep some one—his mother, doubtless—had covered him with a pliable mat, and had placed something soft under his head. Full consciousness returned by degrees. A sense of physical discomfort was the first thing he knew. Then came a faint memory of what had happened before the dawn. Sunrise and the bird were inextricably mingled in his mind. In his heart he believed that the bird and the peace it brought had been a dream. Now that he was fully awake, there was no peace. He was hot with fever; and soon his body began to ache again, with a dull, numb pain that was hard to bear in silence. Moreover, he panted for water. It was not long, however, before Kota came out into the veranda, her little boy clinging to her skirts and retarding her progress. Disengaging the child, who fell backward disconsolately, she bent over the sick one, felt the burning of his hands and head, drew from him confession of his pain and also of his hunger and thirst, and at once retired into the house, to return in a few moments with a bowl of millet and milk. She found the baby sitting beside Oman, who was talking to it in his mellow, gentle voice. Kota hastily set the bowl upon the ground, picked up the baby, carried him inside, and, on coming back once more, found Oman lying on his face, shaken with sobs; nor could she, for a long time, persuade him to turn his face to the light and take the nourishment he needed. Despite his mother’s furtively loving care, and the cessation of his exacting duties, Oman did not grow better of his sickness. Instead, his fever increased till delirium came, and for days he was out of his mind. In his times of pain he would become violent, screaming and struggling when any one approached him. He talked much. Snatches of Vedic text, old Sutras and Mantras, philosophical premises, and suggestions of his own self-struggle were jumbled together in wildest chaos. Gokarna, dreading to have a woman’s ears hear the holy words that are forbidden to women, dreading still more the alternative of a masculine Sudra nurse, sure to carry gossip, had Oman carefully guarded and tended within the house. In his heart, the father, bitter with grief and worse than grief at the outcome of Oman’s student-life, repeated many times his prayer for the child’s death; and had he been in a state to realize anything, Oman would have echoed that prayer with all his heart.