"Here Dai, run to the bazaar and buy some refreshments for this lady"—said Maloti, handing a rupee to the maid.
"Oh, don't trouble, thanks"—said the Benares lady. "I have got some fruits here in my bundle. I wouldn't however mind a plate of rice as I took the train early in the morning."
"Oh, certainly. How stupid of me not to have thought that. Dai, light up the kitchen fire, quick."
The Dai returned the rupee to her mistress and went about her work. The two ladies sat on the durry, talking.
"What is your name, dear?"
"Maloti."
"Where is your parental home?"
"Uttarparah."
"Are both your parents alive?"
Maloti, in a tone of embarrassment, replied—"My father died soon after I was born. My mother also died when I was quite a young thing"—saying which Maloti got up to see how the Dai was getting on with the fire. She scolded her for her awkwardness and began to do it herself.
A little while later, Maloti was cooking for her guest and the latter was sitting by her side, talking.
