Kamal’s postponed her departure for Calcutta.  She abused no one.  She did not use a word of scolding to Surja Mukhi.  Loosening her necklace from her throat, she showed it to all the household, saying, “I will give this to whomsoever will bring Kunda back.”

The guilty Hira heard and saw all this, but said nothing.  Seeing the necklace she coveted it, but repressed her desire.  On the second day, arranging her work, she went at noon, at which hour her grandmother would be bathing, to give Kunda her meal.  At night the two made their bed, and laid down together.  Neither Hira nor Kunda slept:  Kunda was kept awake by her sorrow; Hira by the mingled happiness and trouble of her thoughts.  But whatever her thoughts were she did not give them words—­they remained hidden.

Oh, Hira!  Hira! you have not an evil countenance, you too are young; why this vice in your heart?  Why did the Creator betray her?  Because the Creator betrayed her, does she therefore wish to betray others?  If Hira were in Surja Mukhi’s place, would she be so deceitful?  Hira says “No!” But sitting in Hira’s place she speaks as Hira.  People say all evil that occurs is brought about by the wicked.  Wicked people say, “I should have been virtuous, but through the faults of others have become evil.”  Some say, “Why has not five become seven?” Five says, “I would have been seven, but two and five make seven.  If the Creator or the Creator’s creatures had given me two more, I should have been seven.”  So thought Hira.

Hira said to herself:  “Now what shall I do?  Since the Creator has given me the opportunity, why should I lose it through my own fault?  On the one side, if I take Kunda home to the Dattas, Kamal will give me the necklace, and the Grihini also will give me something.  Shall I spare the Babu?  On the other hand, if I give Kunda to Debendra Babu, I shall get a large sum of money at once.  But I can’t do that.  Why does Debendra think Kunda so beautiful?  If I had good food, dressed well, took my ease like a fine lady in a picture, I could be the same.  So simple a creature as Kunda can never understand the merits of Debendra Babu.  If there were no mud there would be no lotus, and Kunda is the only woman who can excite love in Debendra Babu.  Every one to their destiny!  But why am I angry?  Why should I trouble myself?  I used to jest at love—­I used to say it is mere talk, a mere story.  Now I laugh no longer.  I used to say, ’If anyone loves let him love; I shall never love any one.’  Fate said, ‘Wait, you will see by and by.’  In trying to seize the robber of other’s wealth, I have lost my own heart.  What a face! what a neck! what a figure! is there another man like him?  That the fellow should tell me to bring Kunda to him!  Could he set no one else this task?  I could have struck him in the face!  I have come to love him so dearly, I could even find pleasure in striking him.  But let that pass.  In that path there is danger; I must not think of it.