evening he called on Kumodini Babu, whom he found reading the Mahábhárata (an epic poem). After dwelling now on this matter, now on that, he asked casually:—
"Have you never thought of getting Nalini married? He is over twenty, I believe."
"My wife has been urging me to look out for a wife for him, but in my opinion he is too young for such responsibilities. Better wait till he has passed the B.A. examination."
"Your wife's idea is sounder than yours, if I may be permitted to say so. Just think of the awful temptations to which unmarried students are exposed in that sink of profligacy, Calcutta! How many promising lads have succumbed to them, wrecking their own lives and causing bitter grief to their parents!"
Kumodini Babu started. "You surprise me! I had no idea that Calcutta was as bad as you paint it. We must certainly get Nalini married at once. I wonder whether you know of a likely match for him. I don't care about money, but"
"That I do," interrupted Kanto Babu. "There's Shám Babu's daughter, Shaibalini. What a pretty creature she is; modest, loving and kind-hearted! You won't find her equal in this eláqa (lit. jurisdiction). If you approve, I will gladly be your spokesman with her family."
