“During my interview with the Rajah’s mother and grandmother,” wrote Sir Richard, “these ladies expressed anxiety regarding the Rajah’s visiting England, which they deprecated on the grounds that after seeing Europe he would never care for such a place as Cooch Behar nor for such quiet, homely people as his relatives. I explained that it had not been decided whether the Rajah should visit England; but that, if he did, it would only be for a short time, enough indeed to enlarge and strengthen his mind, but not enough to make him forget his home and kindred; and that, while giving him the benefit of an English education, we should take every pains to train and prepare him for the duties he would hereafter have to discharge as the head of a Hindu State.”
These arguments somewhat pacified the ladies, but they maintained that only as a married man could the Maharajah go away from India with any degree of security. At that time they had not realised that the hope of the Government was that the Maharajah would take one wife only when the time for his marriage came.
The party from Cooch Behar in search of a bride at last arrived at Calcutta, and Mr. Chuckerbutty went direct to Prosonna Babu, one of my father’s missionaries, for advice and help. After several interviews and discussions Jadab Babu spoke of me. But Mr. Chuckerbutty said: “It is too much to expect that the Minister’s daughter will be our Maharani;” still they thought they would try.
When the marriage was first suggested my father was very surprised. He never gave a thought to worldly or family affairs; his mind was too full of his religious work; and he refused the offer. But the Government and the representatives of the State would not be discouraged. They continued writing to my father, interviewing him, and sending messages urging that the marriage of the young Prince and myself was most desirable. My father repeatedly refused. In one of his letters he said that I was neither very pretty nor highly educated, and therefore I was not a suitable bride for the young Maharajah.
This unexpected opposition was a set-back to the plans of the Government, and they determined it must be overcome at any cost. Those in authority were clever enough to understand that they must discover my father’s weak point and work upon it, as it was evident the worldly advantages of the match made no appeal to him.
The messenger went backwards and forwards several times, for Jadab Babu and others would not hear of any refusal. My father with a troubled mind prayed and prayed until at last he obtained light from above and realised that the marriage would be for the spiritual good of the country. Thus he became in the end persuaded that such a union was a Divine command, and if he allowed me to marry this young ruler he would be fulfilling the will of God.
Of course the matter was not mentioned to me, but one day my second sister Bino remarked confidentially: “Father and mother are talking about marriage, aren’t they?” “Oh no,” I answered; “it’s nothing particular, probably one of the young missionaries is going to be married.” “Well, let me tell you, it’s no missionary, but some one far more important.” “It doesn’t matter to me,” I said, and I thought no more of it.
Later one of the missionaries remarked with meaning in his voice: “You will be surprised in a day or two, Sunity. Some very important people are coming to see the school.”
“So much the better,” I assured him, “for now you have told me I can study hard and tell the others to do the same.”