And really there stood Kusum. I had not met her for a long time. She looked greatly changed. Her eyes lacked their usual brilliancy, and the self-conscious smile that was generally on her lips had disappeared. I felt sorry for her, and fearing that she might think me ungracious spoke to her pleasantly and said:
"I am so glad to see you, Kusum, I have not seen you for an age."
Kusum was reserved and she replied:
"I have often thought of calling on you, but I could not somehow or other succeed in doing so, but why did you not call at our place all this time?"
I was somewhat at a loss for a reply, but presently said:
"I am going home shortly. I have been busy."
"Going into the wilderness in her grief," interrupted Chanchal.
That was ungracious of Chanchal. What would Kusum think of me? She herself seemed to realise that she had said the wrong thing; she, therefore, changed the subject, and asked Kusum about the doctor.
Kusum replied sharply:—
