fresh matter for future articles in a similar strain. Some very hard, sharp words were arranging themselves in my head, but in a short time they were all dispersed.
Alighting from the train, Satish presented me to his friends. Having never been introduced to ladies of that type, I knew not what was called for in the position, and, unable to say a word, I stood like a fool at the end of the platform near some shrubs.
Presently Nirmala approached me and said, with a smile—"Manmatha Babu, I read your paper regularly"—and seemed as if she would have said more, but did not. Nirmala's mother said—"When will the Puja number of The Light of Bengal appear, Manmatha Babu?"
"The Puja number is alreay, out"—I said.
Mrs. Sen looked at Nirmala, and asked—"Have you received it?"
"Not yet."
"Excuse me"—I said—"there has not been time for your copy to arrive yet. It was issued only yesterday, and we cannot despatch all the copies in one day.
Nirmala said—"Oh, my copy goes first to Dacca, and then is sent on here. Have you not a copy with you, Manmatha Babu?"
