So much for mother-in-law. As to her daughter, I am not the man to betray what is in my keeping.
How the Marriage was managed.
Well, mother-in-law worked for a successful wedding business, as I said. She set apart Rs. 5,000 for one day's expenses. She got thick placards printed in red and blue, commencing with a brief history of her house, mentioning the names of parties to be married, and concluding with an invitation to the recipient and "all with you"—meaning your whole race, including the ayás,[1] hymáls,[2] and even the next-door neighbour. Those invitation cards mother-in-law got liberally distributed by Parsi priests, who have, somehow or another, taken leave of their priestly calling, but who make excellent dry-nurses, match-makers, waiters, and errand-boys. Well, well, the day came, and with the crowing of the cock we started for the wedding-hall. A thousand cushioned chairs were scattered over the spacious grounds, while the hall inside was being swept and scoured. That day must
