would not part with me under Rs. 50,000, he used to say. I remember my youth from six years upwards. At this age I was first taken to the Máháráj's Mandir. My aunt and several of my cousins came with me. Up to nine I worshipped the Máháráj at a distance; but after my marriage with an old man I was initiated into the sacred rites of Máháráj worship. My father as well as my husband did not know, or rather pretended not to know of mydedication to the 'Source of True Bliss.' On the day of our visit my aunt decked me out in the best of clothes and richest of ornaments, murmuring softly all the while, 'Thou little lucky rogue, thy life will be blessed to-day.' And thus fell upon my life the cruellest blight that could befal womanhood. I would not have the heart to wish such a curse to fall upon my deadliest enemies. But we are all alike. After my dedication I went to live with my husband. He was an old man, with many of the infirmities of age—he was deaf and colour blind, for two things, and made dreadful mistakes through jealousy. I had scarcely been with him for three months when an undesirable acquaintance sprang up between me and an opposite
