matter by looking at my face. Can't you do that, dear?"
"Come, I don't like your jokes," she said. "Something is the matter with you. There is something wrong, for I can see it perfectly well by your looks. Tell me what is the matter, do. You ought to have no secrets from me."
When Bhramar had finished speaking her feelings were worked up to such a pitch that she burst into tears.
Gobindalal drew her affectionately to his side, wiped the tears from her eyes and said, "I will tell you, Bhramar, but not now."
"Why not now?" she said.
"It is better you never know it," he said. "It is not for the ear of a girl so young as you. But I may tell you some day next week."
"Be it as you please. I think I can wait for a few days."
"No, not so soon, Bhramar," he said again. "Let a couple of years pass, and then I will tell you."
She sighed. "Since you will not tell me," she said, "I will not urge you. Oh, I am so unhappy! But I hoped you would tell me."
She was sad. Like a cloud overspreading the clear azure sky in spring a gloom was suddenly cast over her mind, and she did not know why. She thought she had grown very naughty; that her husband was very kind to her, and that it was very uncharitable on her part to have any suspicions about his actions. She went and took a book out of the shelf to read, thinking it would take this foolish unmeaning gloom off her mind and make her cheer up. But she could not give attention. So she threw aside the book and went and laid herself down on the bed.
CHAPTER XIX.
Next day when Krishnakanta had retired after meal to take his usual rest Gobindalal entered his chamber and, unlike his way, talked with him chiefly over matters relating to the estate. He inquired about the condition of each estate that had been jointly acquired by himself and his late father, and asked a lot of questions that incidentally suggested themselves to him; and Krishnakanta was very pleased at this unexpected inquisitiveness on the part of his nephew for whom he had a great affection. "You must learn," said he, "to took after your own affairs. I have become old and am not expected to live long. If you neglect to look to your own affairs while you can, after my death everything will be at sixes and sevens. I am not now able to visit the estates myself; so for want of supervision there is disorder in them."
"I shall be glad to visit them, uncle, if you want me to," said Gobindalal. "Indeed I would like to visit all the estates myself."
Krishnakanta was very pleased to hear his words. "I am happy to hear," said he, "that you wish to visit the estates. At present there is considerable mismanagement at Bunderkhali. The naib there says that the tenants are on strike and have stopped paying their rent. But the tenants complain that the naib does not give them proper receipts for rent paid by them. So I think you will do well to start at once for Bunderkhali."
Gobindalal readily agreed to his uncle's proposal and left his chamber to make preparations for his departure. He had wished to obtain his permission to go on a visit to one of the estates, and he had gone to him for that purpose. Though a handsome youth of good morals, he was, as young people at his age generally are, subject to the influence of beauty. He wanted to go abroad because he felt that if he stayed at home it would be very difficult for him to put Rohini out of his mind and forget her. His object was to run away from her and try to forget her where she would never come in his way. Out of sight is out of mind: he thought of that. And he thought of his wife's affection for him. How devoted she was to her husband. If she knew that he loved Rohini it would kill her surely. He thought he would sooner die than be unfaithful to his wife.
When his wife knew that he was going on a visit to one of the estates where his presence was urgently required she wanted to go with him. She pressed very much. But her mother-in-law strongly opposed, and consequently she had to be left behind.
Bunderkhali was about ten days' voyage from their village. The boat to carry Gobindalal was furnished with everything needed to make such a long journey by water. He took leave of his weeping wife. He kissed her and comforted her. With a favourable wind he set sail accompanied by his own cook and servants.
