RADHARANI
of a gracious and noble lady, it was my little friend Radharani. If ever there was, in our Hindu phrase, ambrosia on a woman's lips, I found it in the artless prattle of my girlish acquaintance. Ah, madam, you may laugh, but you have read in our poets of the instruments on which the heavenly apsaras play for the beguiling of poor mortals. I know not how it was, but the child's words, simple yet crystal clear in their utterance, reminded me of what the poets say of the fascination of the heavenly singers. For all her simplicity, no woman's voice has so affected me or sunk so deeply into my memory."
And Rukmini Kumar (for so we must now call him) said to himself, "Such too is the ravishing voice I hear to-day." It was years since he had heard the girl's broken speech and yet he recognised it in the polished tones of the beautiful woman before him. It was as if it were only yesterday. And yet, he thought, is it the same Radharani? What a fool I am! That was a poor little frightened beggar maid
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