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merely repeated, "I'm going to Ghazipur." Her tone showed that she considered herself at liberty to act as she pleased.

"All right, Uncle" said Ramesh, "Ghazipur let it be."

In the evening the sky cleared after the rain and Ramesh sat till late in the moonlight meditating. "We can't go on this way any longer," he said to himself. "The situation will become impossible if Kamala turns rebellious. I don't see how I'm going to live with her and yet keep my distance. I can't keep it up any longer. After all, Kamala really is my wife. I re- garded her as my wife from the first, and 1 need have no scruples because we did not actually recite the regular formulas. Death himself gave her to me and made us one that night on the sand-bank; surely he is more potent than any earthly priest !"

Between him and Hemnalini lay a hostile army in full panoply. He must fight his way through obstacles, doubts, and disgrace before he could stand before her with head erect, and he shrank from the contem- plation of the battles before him. What hope had he of victory? How could he establish his innocence? Even if he could prove himself guiltless, society would draw up, as it were, her skirts from contact with him, and the result would he so disastrous for Kamala that this course was inconceivable. Away with cowardice and wavering! There was nothing for it but to make Kamala his wife indeed. Hemnalini must now regard him with aversion — an aversion which would have the advantage of inclining her favourably to the addresses of some other suitor. Ramesh sighed and flung his hopes of Hemnalini to the winds.