She had brought the bridegroom and bride with her, and she spent a very busy day marrying the happy wood-apple to the satin-white datura blossom plucked fresh from the tree on the way there. The oleander bush and gourd supplied the flowers required for the guests; and as for the feast, no pretence was needed. The cakes were real; the sweets were of the best; and as she ate them Mayita's enjoyment was abundant enough for herself and the numerous guests represented by a goodly array of sticks and stones.
She lived in a little kingdom of her own; and for the time she was dead to that cold outer world which treated her so unkindly. In the beautiful domain of her imagination her widowhood passed away and she was the mother of the bride or bridegroom according to her fancy. Various sounds in the distance met her ear, but she paid no heed to them. The jangle of bullock bells only stirred her sufficiently to bring to her remembrance the fact that the bridegroom should have a gilded bullock coach in his procession. It sent her on a careful search through the yard for something that would represent the coach.
The sound of the bullock bells caused a greater sensation in the house than in Ananda's little room. They broke suddenly upon the household an hour before the midday meal, as the cattle plunged up the carriage-drive and were stopped with much sighing and snorting before the front verandah.
The door of the coach was opened by a firm unhesitating hand, and out stepped no less a person than Gunga herself. She bore no sign of widowhood in her appearance. Her upright figure was swathed in a new silk saree that, like Mrs. Hulver's Sunday dress, "stood by itself." She wore a purple satin jacket and a crimson silk petticoat. The rich gold embroidered border of the saree held the wealth of colour together, and saved the whole from tawdriness.
With the dignity of a ranee of the olden days she moved up the steps of the family mansion and entered her house. A cry of surprise greeted her as the various members came hurriedly forward to make their salaams. Sooba's wife when she had recovered from her astonishment was not behindhand with her welcome. Her husband was out, she informed her sister-in-law, but he would return to dinner.
Gunga's eyes were everywhere; she led the way to the kitchen, where she looked into the seething pots and bubbling curries. She found nothing wrong and expressed general approval of her sister-in-law's management. Having satisfied herself she left the kitchen. Sooba's wife followed closely at her heels deputing another woman to take up her duties. Mats and cushions were brought, and the two sisters seated themselves in the courtyard to have a chat before the food was served.
"How does our excellent elder brother spend his time?" asked Sooba's wife, burning with curiosity to know if the invalid were much worse.
"He has taken over charge of the farm."
"It must be hard work for one in such poor health."
"Not at all!" snapped Gunga, who did not like these personal inquiries; they were a breach of etiquette, and likely to bring bad luck upon the subject. "The health of all the family at the farm is excellent. Strongest of all is the big master; he is like a man of thirty instead of fifty, and he is busy all day long with the rest."