“Mahasay,” he said soothingly.  “Do not take on like this!  God’s ways are inscrutable; perchance He has broken the match off for your daughter’s good.”

“Yes, God’s will be done,” replied Kumodini Babu in sepulchral tones.  “We are but His instruments.”  Then after a pause he added, “What I dread most is loss of caste”.

“Who will dare to excommunicate you for such a trifle?” asked Sham Babu indignantly.

“Alas, you know too well that my family’s position in society is terribly compromised.  A marriage postponed is a marriage lost!” groaned Kumodini Babu.

“But why should it be postponed?” was Sham Babu’s eager question.  “I have a proposal to make, if you will only give it a moment’s thought.”

Kumodini Babu looked up, and a ray of hope dried his tears; he waited anxiously for further particulars.

“You know my son Susil, I suppose?  He is just sixteen and has passed the Entrance Examination.”

“Yes, yes,” answered Kumodini Babu.  “He is a fine lad, obedient and well-mannered.  But what has he got to do with our present fix?”

“Will you give your daughter to him in marriage?  I will not ask a single pice as dowry.”

Kumodini Babu sprang to his feet and embraced Sham Babu with fervour, saying, “You have saved my life.  Personally, I should be delighted to have Susil as a son-in-law, but you must let me consult my son and wife.”  He ran to the inner apartments, and communicated Sham Babu’s offer to his near relatives.  This unexpected solution of the dilemma filled them with surprise; and a loud clamour of voices echoed through the house.  Finally all, without exception, agreed that the match would be an excellent one.  Kumodini Babu brought news of its acceptance to Sham Babu, and it spread among the wedding guests, who were loud in their praises of his true Hindu spirit.

Sham Babu went into the courtyard where Susil sat talking with some other boys about the astounding piece of good fortune which awaited him.  That he, the son of a humble clerk, should espouse the daughter of a Zemindar was more than his wildest dreams had anticipated.  He joyfully accompanied Sham Babu to a room, where he was clad in silken attire, and thence to the hall, where he was solemnly inducted into the empty bridegroom’s chair amid the acclamations of the assembled guests.  As the Lagna (auspicious time) had not run out the actual marriage ceremony began forthwith.  Basumati was given away by her father; while the ladies performed Satpak (lit. going round seven times—­a ceremony without which a Hindu marriage is not binding) and other minor ceremonies with zest.  After all had been well and duly gone through, the bride and bridegroom were conducted to an inner apartment.  Susil underwent the customary “chaff” from the ladies, which he bore with great good humour and was at last left alone with his young companion for life; while some of the fair guests sang wedding songs to the intense delight of their friends.  Nor were the men-folk idle.  They sat down to a sumptuous feast prepared for the recreant bridegroom’s family, nor did they separate till daybreak.