Krishnakanta's Will (Chatterjee, Roy)/Part 1/Chapter 21
CHAPTER XXI.
Khiroda had no grudge against his mistress, though it must be said that like most women she found pleasure in talking of the private concerns of others. She certainly meant no harm, but she was sorry that her words were not believed, and by such a green-horn as she thought her mistress was, and she resolved to make her feel that she had told no falsehood to her.
"I will not bear being beaten and abused for nothing," said Khiroda, meeting Haramoni on the road. Khiroda was going to the Baruni tank to bathe, and Haramoni, a cook belonging to Krishnakanta's house, was returning home after bathing.
"What has turned up?" asked Haramoni, stopping.
"I wish to ask you one thing," said Khiroda. "If anybody does anything bad or condemnable isn't it more than to expect that people will keep quiet about it?"
"Why, of course," said Haramoni. "But what's the matter?"
"Mistress beat me this morning for daring to tell her that master is in love with Rohini."
"In love with Rohini! Is it true?"
"True? As true as you and I stand talking together. Why did master come home so late as one o'clock the other night? He was in the garden with Rohini."
"Poor unfortunate girl!" said Haramoni. "I feared she would trip; I did, for there was something I could see that made me apprehend some such thing about her. I never liked her. I never did, indeed."
And Haramoni pitied Rohini again. She used many more epithets, smiled scornfully, and then turned to pursue her way leaving Khiroda to pursue her own.
That morning on her way to the tank the maid-servant circulated her story among half a dozen more women whom she happened to meet on the road. Haramoni was not indifferent either, but did her best to promote the circulation of it by telling it to every one of her friends. The story, as such stories are bound to be, was a great deal exaggerated as it passed from mouth to mouth. Some said that Gobindalal was over head and ears in love with Rohini. Others declared that he had given her seven thousand rupees' worth of ornaments. In a day or two this formed a principal topic in all parts of the village and created a sensation in it.
Soon afterwards when Bhramar keenly felt her separation from her husband there went to her neighbours who wished to condole with her in her misfortune. First went Binodini. "Is it true?" she asked. "What is true?" said Bhramar. Binodini shot a sly glance at her. "The rumour I mean—the rumour about Rohini," she said.
Bhramar felt very angry; but not wishing to say anything, and wanting to get rid of her, drew her child into her arms apparently to caress it, but really to make it cry, winch she did by secretly giving it a pinch. Binodini, without any more ado, took her child from her and withdrew, trying to quiet it by giving it suck.
Next went Surodhuni, a young lady of two and twenty, who often used to call to have a game of cards with Bhramar. She assured her she was very sorry on her account, considering that her husband was the handsomest young man in the village. "Why don't you try and get something," she said, "to use as a charm against such an evil as this? You ought to consult somebody who can help you about it, for what men care for in women is beauty, and you know you cannot boast of it. But I wonder at Rohini. What a wicked brazen-faced girl she is!"
Bhramar pretended not to understand her and said, "I do not quite see what you are driving at. What has Rohini done?"
"Oh dear! you don't know the news when the whole village rings with it? Why, your husband has lost his head about Rohini. The rumour is that he has given seven thousand rupees' worth of ornaments to her."
Bhramar was indignant. But she dared not say anything to her, and vented her anger instead on a little stray doll of clay whose head she snapped as though it were the head of Surodhuni. However, calling up a smile she said, "I have looked into the account book; you also have fourteen thousand rupees' worth of ornaments in your name."
Afterwards there went many others, young ladies and elderly ladies, and ladies in short of all ages, who, either singly or with friends called, as they pretended, to comfort Bhramar. Alluding to the love affair they pitied her. They declared that though there was no reason to wonder, as both Rohini and her husband were young and handsome, it was undoubtedly very unfortunate that such a thing should ever have happened to destroy her happiness and peace of mind for ever. They all pretended they were very sorry, and some even shed tears; and Bhramar, far from finding any comfort from such lip sympathy as they showed, felt a great deal more miserable than she had ever done before. Their visits were simply an infliction, and their seemingly kind speech was gall and wormwood to her.
She was very very miserable. Not long before this she had been as gay and happy as a lark. The women of the village had envied her lot because she was the wife of the richest and handsomest young man for many miles round; because her husband bore an excellent character, and because, though in point of beauty she was nothing by his side, he loved her dearly. Now when they knew that her husband's affection had been suddenly alienated from her they laughed in their sleeve and enjoyed her trouble very much.
When she was alone she vented the anguish of her heart in bitter tears. Could she ever doubt her own dear husband? Yet why was this rumour? It seemed such a mystery that she wished he could come at once and solve it for her.
(To be continued)
Translated by D. C. Roy.