with her. Rajlakshmi now-a-days was chary of coming up the stairs, but Binodini had persuaded her this evening. Mahendra sat gloomily to his repast, under the shaded balcony in front of his room. "Why, brother Mahin, you're not touching anything," remarked Binodini.
Rajlakshmi was alarmed, "I hope you're not feeling unwell?" she inquired.
"You really must taste some of these mithais after all the troubles I've had in making them," said Binodini. "But perhaps they're not nice? Then pray let them be—don't let me persuade you against your inclination."
"Oh don't spoil my feast," said Mahendra. "These mithais are delicious, and I mean to eat them all, so it's no use trying to prevent me."
He did finish the two of them to the last crumb. After he had done, they all went inside his room, but Mahendra made no allusion to the reading.
"You said you were going to read us something Mahin," said Rajlakshmi at length, "won't you begin?"
"There's nothing about gods or goddesses in what I was going to read," said Mahendra. "I'm afraid you won't enjoy it."
Not enjoy it? Rajlakshhmi was determined to enjoy it. Poor Mahin, whose wife had deserted him to go to Benares, what he enjoyed his mother must and would enjoy!
"Why not do one thing," suggested Binodini. "You know that book of moral sayings which mother has in her room. Let's have something out of that this evening, for a change. Mother would enjoy that, and we'd all have a delightful time."
As Mahendra cast an imploring glance at Binodini, the maid came in and said: "Mother, Mistress Kayeth has come to call on you. I've shown her to your room."
Mistress Kayeth was an old crony of Rajlakshmi's. The temptation of an evening gossip with her was too strong to be easily resisted. Yet she said to the maid: "Tell Mistress Kayeth I've got something important to do with Mahin, this evening. But tell her to be sure and come again tomorrow, please."
"Why not go and see her first, Mother," Mahendra hastily interposed.
"Why trouble yourself, Pishima?" offered Binodini. "You stay here. I'll go and sit with her a while."
Rajlakshmi's temptation got the better of her. "You stay here, my child," she said to Binodini. "I'll go and see if I can't get rid of Mistress Kayeth early. But go on with the reading, don't wait for me."
No sooner was she out of the room than Mahendra broke out with "Why will you torment me like this?"
"Torment you, friend?" asked Binodini in seeming innocence. "What have I done? Does my presence offend you? Let me go then." With which she essayed to rise, looking crestfallen.
Mahendra caught her by the hand. "That's just the way you plague me!" he said.
"I knew not I was so virulent," she replied. "How strong you must be to have borne me so long—and yet show no signs of the ravages of the pestilence!"
"How can you judge from the outside," said Mahendra as he pulled Binodini's hand towards him and placed it on his heaving breast.
He dropped her hand, as Binodini uttered a little shriek of pain, asking anxiously, "Did I hurt you?"
Mahendra found that the wound on her elbow had re-opened and was bleeding. "What a brute I am," he exclaimed. "I quite forgot. Let me do it up for you properly this time—I insist."
Binodini.—"It's nothing, I won't have anything done to it."
Mahendra.—"Why not?"
Binodini.—"Don't ask me why. I'll not have you doctoring me."
"There's no understanding the mind of woman," thought Mahendra, as his face fell. Binodini rose to go. Mahendra's wounded feelings would not allow him to attempt to restrain her. "Where are you off to?" he simply asked.
"I've got lots to do," she replied, as she slowly left the room.
After sitting dumbfoundered for a moment, Mahendra jumped up to bring her back. But he got no further than the head of the staircase, and returning to the terrace began to walk up and down all by himself.
Binodini was drawing him on at every step, and yet would not allow him to come near, even for a moment. Mahendra had had to give up one of his boasts—that he was unconquerable; would he also have to give up the other—that he could always conquer?
Translated by
Surendranath Tagore.
