After the Varan the crowd of women made way for us and we were taken to a reception-room. I was nervous and tired and longing for a rest, when suddenly I heard a gentle whistle outside. It was the Maharajah! I knew his whistle well, for I had often heard it at Lily Cottage. I felt at once that I was not forgotten, that in the darkness there was a cheery companion who loved me and wanted my love. I would have answered back in sheer joy, but could not. My sister and I were soon in bed. She immediately fell into the healthy sleep of tired youth, but I was too fatigued and nervous, with a thousand and one thoughts worrying me, to be able to sleep.
The next morning we were up early. It was my wedding day, and I had to go through a good deal before the ceremony. After my bath, my grandmother was told that a Hindu priest wished to recite the usual prayers. When we came out on the verandah, we saw the Brahmin waiting surrounded by relations of the Maharajah. Some one put a gold coin into my hand which I was requested to give to the priest of the Raj family.
My grandmother interposed. “No, no,” she said, “our girls don’t do this.”
“What nonsense!” replied the Maharajah’s grandmother. “Why! it means nothing.”
But we were firm, and I placed the coin on the floor. This was only one of the petty annoyances which occurred during the day.
In the evening of the marriage the Maharajah’s mother came and spoke to my mother most harshly. One of her remarks I still remember: “Do you mean to say you love your daughter? How can you when you do not wish her to marry a Maharajah? If she does not marry my son according to Hindu rites, she will not be the Maharani.”
My mother answered gently but very firmly: “I shall be sorry if my daughter does not marry your son, and I shall take her away from Cooch Behar; but my daughter shall never marry any one according to Hindu rites.” This made the Maharajah’s mother furious.
While these disputes and discussions were going on in the palace, my dear father must have suffered a great deal silently in his house. There was much hot argument. Both sides were obstinate. Telegrams were dispatched to Government. Cooch Behar waited. Sunset came. It was the auspicious hour fixed for the marriage, but no word went forth that it was to take place.
Gradually silence reigned. The music and the sound of the conch shells ceased. The voice of the crowd was hushed. All of a sudden everything stopped. The musicians left the platforms and the town became perfectly quiet; the illuminations were extinguished one by one.
Then the unexpected happened, and the Gordian knot of caste and creed was suddenly cut. The news of the final dispute had been conveyed to the Maharajah. When he realised that the religious obstacles might prove insurmountable he became so strangely quiet and serious that his people felt rather nervous and wondered what their young master would do. He took very strong measures.