"The difficulty over the shraddah ceremonies will still remain, the rites by which my ancestors and I may escape the lower rebirths." Gunga looked at him and pursed up her lips as though she had by no means exhausted her resources. "Our cousin's wife has proposed a remedy for that." He glanced at her with questioning eyes that showed how near to his heart the subject and consequent anxiety lay. Before he could frame the query as to ways and means she continued. "The time has not arrived yet to talk about it. First and foremost, husband, you are the chief consideration. You must get well and strong. For that purpose there is nothing like work and food and change of air, as I have told you more than once. Here you will have all that is necessary." "What shall we tell my brother?" "Leave that to me. I will dictate a letter saying that it will be advisable for you to remain here, and praying him to look well after your interests at Chirapore. When I go back, which I shall do before long, I will explain more." Pantulu was well content to leave everything in his wife's hands. The new venture had taken hold of his mind, and it dominated every other consideration. At the bottom of it lay money; and though his wealth was great already, "Gold" had a reviving effect upon the man, as the word "rats" had upon the sick terrier. On the day appointed for the ceremonies to take place, which were to brand Ananda's wife with the curse of Hindu widowhood, a large party assembled at Pantulu's family mansion in Chirapore. Relatives accompanied by relatives arrived from all parts of the State. Gossip circulated freely. News was given and demanded; and many were the questions asked concerning the absent master and mistress. Sooba was ready with his tale, adorned and coloured according to his imagination without much regard to the truth. Gunga's letter had been received; and as she made no allusion to her husband's health it seemed safe to assume that there was no improvement. "My sister-in-law asks me to consider myself the head of the house as long as my brother is absent. She says that it is best for him to remain where he is; it will give him a better chance of recovery," he said. "Then there is hope that he may get well?" asked one of the guests. "She may have hope herself; we do not entertain much. It is more than likely that he is too sick to move." "How long do you think he will last?" enquired another. "A few weeks at the outside," replied Sooba. "The news of the disappearance of his son will probably hasten his end." "Has it been sent yet?" "Not yet; we are waiting till this ceremony is finished. It would be very bad for him if he insisted on returning for it; so we have thought it best to get it all over before mentioning anything."