KSHEMANKARI soon succumbed to another attack of fever but this bout did not last so long as the last. One morning during her convalescence when Nalinaksha came in and saluted her like a dutiful son by touching her feet, he took the opportunity to urge her to allow herself to be treated as an invalid. Her usual austerities, he observed, were not suited to a person in her condition.
“So I’m to renounce my old habits while you proceed to renounce the world altogether?” cried the old lady. “My dear Nalin, you can’t keep up this farce any longer. Kindly do as your mother tells you and get married!”
Nalinaksha was silent and Kshemankari proceeded: “You see, my dear, this old body of mine won’t last much longer. I shan’t die happy unless I see you mated first. There was a time when I looked forward to your marrying a slip of a girl whom I could train myself. I had visions of dressing her up to suit my own ideas. But during this last spell of sickness my eyes were opened. There’s no saying how long I shall live and I can’t take for granted that my remaining lease of life will be a long one. It would not be fair to leave you with an unformed girl on your hands. Much better marry some one whose age is nearer your own. I lay awake every night, while I had fever, thinking this out. I feel very strongly that this is the last duty that I owe to you and I must live to perform it, otherwise my mind will never be at rest.”
“But where am I to find a girl who would settle down contentedly with me?” asked Nalinaksha.
“Don’t trouble your head about that. I’ll arrange matters for you and you’ll know the result in good time.”
Kshemankari had never personally encountered Annada Babu for she had always remained in her customary seclusion when he visited her house. That day, however, when the old gentleman looked in during his evening constitutional she intimated that she wished to see him; and no sooner was he ushered into her presence than she went straight to the point.
“Your daughter,” she began, “is a very charming girl and I am exceedingly fond of her. You both know my son Nalin. His character is irreproachable and his professional reputation is high. Do you not agree with me that you might have difficulty in finding a better husband for your daughter?”
“You really mean this?” exclaimed Annada Babu. “Why, I never dared to hope for such a thing. I should certainly consider myself very lucky to have Nalinaksha for a son-in-law. But what does he — ?”
“Oh, Nalin will be quite agreeable. Unlike most young men of the present day he does what his mother tells him. After all, he should not require much persuasion! No one could help falling in love with that dear girl. I should like, however, to have them definitely engaged as soon as possible for I may not have much longer to live.”
Annada Babu went home elated and he lost no time in sending for Hem.
“My dear,” he commenced, “I’m an old man and my health is far from good, but unless I see you settled first I cannot end my days in peace. You must allow me to be quite frank with you, Hem. You have no mother and I feel entirely responsible for you.”
Hemnalini stared at her father, wondering what was coming.
“I’m so delighted at the prospect of this match, dear,” he went on, “that I can’t contain myself any longer. My one fear is that something may happen to prevent it. It’s this, dear: — Nalinaksha’s mother has this evening made a proposal of marriage to you on her son’s behalf.”
Hemnalini blushed and faltered, “Why, really, dad! It’s quite impossible.”
She was overcome with confusion when her father sprang this proposal on her for she had never thought of Nalinaksha as a possible husband.
“Why is it impossible?” asked Annada Babu.
“Njalinaksha!” exclaimed Hemnalini, “how could it be possible?”
It was hardly a logical answer, but it was infinitely more conclusive than any logic. Hemnalini took refuge in the verandah from a situation that was becoming strained.
Annada Babu’s hopes were dashed; this opposition was a thing that he had not anticipated. He had confidently assumed that his daughter would be delighted at the prospect of marrying Nalinaksha. Stunned by his disappointment the old man stared ruefully at the flickering oil-lamp while he mused over the insoluble riddle of the feminine temperament, and not for the first time lamented that Hemnalini had no mother.
Meanwhile Hem herself sat in the unlighted verandah while the hours slipped by. At last she happened to glance into the room and at the sight of her father’s disconsolate face her conscience smote her. She hurried indoors and posted herself behind his chair, murmuring, as she stroked his head, “Come, father, your supper was ready long ago; it must be cold by now.”
Annada Babu rose mechanically and made for the supper-room, but he had little appetite for food. In the belief that the clouds that darkened Hemnalini’s life had lifted he had entertained high hopes for the future, and her rejection of the proposal had been a bitter disappointment to him. “So-Hem has not been able to forget Ramesh after all,” he sighed to himself.
It was his custom to retire to bed immediately after supper but this evening he lingered on. Instead of retiring he subsided into a deck-chair on the verandah and stared out across the garden at the deserted cantonment road, deep in thought.
Finding him there Hemnalini took him playfully to task. “Now go to bed, please, dad; it’s too cold for you out here.”
“You had better go to bed yourself, dear. I shall be turning in soon.”
But Hemnalini was not to be dismissed so easily. After a short pause she proceeded, “You’re catching cold here, dad. Come into the sitting-room anyway.”
Annada Babu rose from his chair and departed silently to bed.
Hemnalini had sternly resolved to exclude all thought of Ramesh from her mind lest she should be tempted to swerve from her duty, and this self-denying ordinance had cost her many a hard mental struggle. It only needed an external shock to cause the old wound to smart afresh. She had never been able definitely to map out her future course of conduct. Hence she had cast about her for means to sustain her in her resolve.
When she finally determined to regard Nalinaksha as her spiritual preceptor and to order her life according to his teaching she supposed that her object was attained. But when this marriage was proposed and she essayed to root out the old love from its lurking-place in the innermost recesses of her heart she realised how ineradicable it really was. A threat to sever the old attachment was enough to make Hemnalini cling to it in her despair more resolutely than ever.