As long as my wife was alive, I did not pay much attention to Probha. As a matter of fact, I thought a great deal more about Probha’s mother than I did of the child herself.
At that time my dealing with her was superficial, limited to a little petting, listening to her lisping chatter, and occasionally watching her laugh and play. As long as it was agreeable to me I used to fondle her, but as soon as it threatened to become tiresome I would surrender her to her mother with the greatest readiness.
At last, on the untimely death of my wife, the child dropped from her mother’s arms into mine, and I took her to my heart.
But it is difficult to say whether it was I who considered it my duty to bring up the motherless child with twofold care, or my daughter who thought it her duty to take care of her wifeless father with a superfluity of attention. At any rate, it is a fact
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