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THE WRECK

177

torting his face in a fruitless effort to suppress a broad grin.

After his departure Kamala wiped away a tear and took her stand by the window.

"Won't you show me your letter, Kamala dear?" said Saila entering the room. She herself had no secrets from Kamala and this emboldened her to make the request.

"There it is, didi, read it," said Kamala, pointing to where the letter lay on the floor.

"She hasn't got over her temper yet," thought Saila in surprise and she picked up the letter and read it through. It was certainly affectionate enough, but what a queer letter for a man to write to his wife! It was an extraordinary composition! "Does your hus- band write novels, dear?" she asked.

Dazed as she was, Kamala winced at the word "hus- band." "I don't know," she replied.

"Well, are you going round to the bungalow to- day?"

Kamala merely nodded in reply. "I could have spent the day with you there but you know, dear, I have to be present at the reception to the bride at Narsingh Babu's house; so mother had better go with you instead."

"Oh, no, your mother mustn't trouble to go!" cried Kamala; "the servants are there."

Saila smiled. "Well, perhaps after all you needn't be nervous when you have a stout retainer like Umesh,"

Umi had picked up a pencil in the meantime and she was busy making scratches with it on various ob- jects while she talked a language of her own which she considered to be "reading aloud." When Saila tore her away from her literary pursuits she set up a shrill protest which only subsided when Kamala in- . terposed. "Come with me and I'll give you some-. thing pretty."

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