"To go and see Tara Devi? Why did you not tell me? Ever since we came my wife has been anxious to go one day. How far is it?"
"Six or seven miles."
"Can one go in a rickshaw?"
"Yes; you can go to the foot of the hill. A rickshaw can't climb to the top, of course."
"When must one start to be able to return by evening?"
"If you start at noon it will do."
The whole thing was arranged. Jadu Babu said it would be better to start earlier—say eleven o'clock. Happily, the sky was clear. Five days had passed since the last fall of snow. It had now melted and dried up. The road would probably be clear also. Jadu Babu said that at eleven his own rickshaw and three others for Kumud's party, including one for the child's servant, would be waiting. Then, taking his snow staff, he went off smiling, his feet making a sluthering sound in the slush. Kumud Babu thought—"He goes like a demon; how can one go like that?"
Presently Giribala came in. She showed no joy on hearing they were to visit Tara Devi. She said—"Why should we go in a crowd? You and I were going together; I shan't have a chance of talking to you."
