The boy, irritated at being roughly handled, beat at her with his small fists.
"Thus and thus will I beat my father if he hurts me like that. Let me go, or I will ask him to find me another mother."
The senseless words fell upon her ear with strange force. What was it the child said? Another mother! Could it be possible that her husband had forgotten her in that foreign country, where he had lived so long? Was he bringing home another wife? a white woman, a hated European? No, no! It was impossible!
With a stifled cry she set the child down on his feet, and he seized the opportunity of escaping to the kitchen, the spot he loved best. She was left alone, and no one heeded her; they were all too busy discussing the mystery of the message and attempting to discover its solution. Suddenly she dropped to the ground, crouching as though some unseen hand were about to strike a deadly blow, her hands lifted to guard her head.
"No! no! no! If there were another I could not bear it. I should die!" she wailed. Then passion took hold of her. She stuffed the corner of her saree into her mouth and bit it savagely. "No, I will not die! It is the strange woman who shall die! Hear me, swami of the big temple! Hear my vow. I will live and have my own! my own!"
CHAPTER VI
The house in which Bopaul's father lived was situated in the same road, about a hundred yards distant, and on the opposite side. It was nearer the town, and though a substantial building, was not as large as the silk merchant's; nor was the compound as extensive. A similar preparation had been made by the family, but not on so large or expensive a scale; nor had the mistress thought it necessary to go on a pilgrimage. New clothes had been bought, and store-rooms were replenished. The house had been repainted and decorated.
There was no young wife with her little son to await the coming of Bopaul; but his bride was already chosen, and the marriage ceremony would be performed as soon as the restoration of caste was accomplished. She would not be present at his home-coming. The girl was a stranger to him, and he had yet to make her acquaintance. As in Pantulu's family, there were many relatives and dependents who performed the duties of servants; but claimed a right to share in the rejoicings as relations.
One forlorn little figure in that busy happy company was not a participator in the joy of Bopaul's return. This was his own sister Mayita, married in her infancy to Coomara. By Coomara's death she had become a widow, although she had been only a wife in name. Her degradation was aggravated by the fact that her husband had died abroad, with the funeral ceremonies, in which she should have taken a certain part, unperformed.