heaved with her breath as usual, and her arms owned a softness that is the despair of the sylvan creeper as it did of old. But there was not that gloss, nor the sharpness, not the brightness, nor the briskness and not that charm nor, it would seem, even that youth. Beauty and sweetness alone seemed to have been trium- phant, and patience and gravity were now added to her features. If >ou had ever seen her before you would have no doubt thought that she was a matchless beauty on earth ; if you saw her now you would take her for a goddess of heaven born on earth under a ban. Round her lay scattered a few antique books on the floor, on the wall hung a set of beads to assist her in chanting Harinani) and, here and there, there were pictures of Jagannath, of the chastisement of Kaliya and on other subjects connected with Srikrishna's life in Brindaban. Bhavananda entered that room and asked : " Kalyani, are you well ?" tf Will you never cease inquiring that of me ?" retorted Kalyani. " What is it to you whether I am well or ill ? And what is it to me too ? " " He who plants a tree waters it daily and finds pleasure in its growth. I planted life in your dead body, why should 1 not now ask whether it is growing ?" " Does a poison tree ever cease to live ? " " Is life a poison ?" M Why else did I seek to destroy it with nectar ?" " I have often thought of asking you one question but have not dared to do it so long. Who was it that made your life a curse ? "
