"For yourself or for the manager's wife?" "Neither; they are to be worn at a wedding I am arranging. They will adorn the bride." "Is she a relative that you honour her thus?" "She will be when the ceremonies are completed. I am making a second marriage for my husband, since our son is lost to us, and I am not likely to give him another. The girl is young and strong and will bear us many sons." Sooba's jaw dropped in astonished consternation and speech failed him. His wife was more ready with her tongue. "It is an excellent plan, sister; one that I had thought of adopting myself since the gods have not blessed me with children. Is your husband strong and well enough to play his part?" "You should see him! He is like a young man! you would think the years had gone backwards instead of forwards, he is so full of strength and energy." Gunga handled the remaining jewels tenderly as she put them back in the strong box. "Although the girl's people are not poor, her jewels are nothing compared with these that belonged to my son's wife. This gold ornament"--she picked up the richly embossed disc that Sooba's wife had envied and already appropriated--"will sit well on her hair. It used to look so well on Dorama's head." "When is the wedding to be?" asked Sooba, his heart sinking within him as he contemplated the future. "In three days' time. After the wedding I shall return here to live, and my little sister will remain on the silk farm under the care of the manager's wife. I shall go over frequently to see them, and when the manager comes back six months hence, my husband and his wife will join us here. Now I wish to see Dorama, and to know why she did not come to the kitchen for her food when the rest of the family had dinner." Some of the women were sent in search, but the widow could nowhere be found. The basin of curry and rice put aside for her was untouched. One of them recalled the fact that she went frequently to the room formerly occupied by her husband. Gunga rose to her feet. "I will go there myself; you need not follow; I wish to see her alone." Her word was law and they dared not disobey. She passed through the garden and out into the compound taking the path by which the men had gone on that dreadful night with their evil intent. To her surprise she heard a voice murmuring in the room. Unseen by the busy match-maker she watched the child at her play. Then she entered and the girl started violently as though she had been discovered in some act of flagrant wickedness, as, indeed, from a Hindu point of view was the case; for was she not enjoying a few hours of perfect happiness, and upsetting the Hindu notion that widows have no right to be happy. "Most excellent lady, I was brought here by my brother and told to stop till he returns," she said, fearing blame and perhaps punishment for trespassing where widows were unwelcome. "You are doing no harm, child. Your brother is Bopaul, is he not?"