CHAPTER XX.
Nothing went well. Bhramar was alone. She took up the bedding and threw it on one side, saying it was too soft.
She forbade the servants to bring any flowers: she said they were full of insects. She refused to play card games, telling her companions her mother-in-law would be angry. Needles, thread, wools, patterns, she gave them all away to the village women, saying they made her eyes burn. Asked why she wore soiled garments, she abused the laundress, though the presses were full of clean clothes. Her hair and the comb ceased relationship, and her locks swayed in the wind like a field of thatching grass. Asked why, she would laugh and bunch it up on the top of her head anyhow, so far did she neglect herself.
At meal-times she began to frame excuses, saying she couldn't eat, she had fever. Her
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