Stories of Bengalee Life/A Pseudonym/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III
As I drank my tea the next morning, I reviewed the events of the previous day. I could not regard this free mingling of the sexes except as a danger to social morality. So I resolved not to go to this tea. Why should I act against my own beliefs? I would send The Light of Bengal by a servant, or it might be Satish would be coming in, and I could send it by him. But Satish was such an ass that he did not come. I suppose he could not leave his Nirmala. I began to picture their courting in my mind, and felt highly entertained.
When I had finished lunch it struck me that it might be a breach of manners not to go to this tea. As I had accepted the invitation, I was bound to go. If it was opposed to my convictions, I ought to have declined at the time. I must go to-day, and be careful in the future not to accept any further invitations. So in the afternoon I prepared to go. I was rather careful about my toilet. I told myself that if it were a gathering of men only there would be no need of being particular, but in women's society a certain smartness was necessary.
I have often been at Darjeeling; all its streets were well known to me. I arrived at the house just ten minutes before four o'clock. The hour fixed was four. I thought—"These people hold by English ways. If I go in before the time they would probably think me a barbarian." So I walked about a little, and sent in my card precisely at four.
I was warmly welcomed by all. Nirmala looked very beautiful today. When I had seen her at the station, wearing an English cape and shoes, I did not like her appearance. Now I saw her in red velvet shoes of Indian make, an orange-coloured sari draped in the new fashion, her plentiful hair gathered into a knot, and adorned with a hill rose of a yellow colour. Nirmala looked very handsome indeed.
At first I did not see Satish and resolved, when I met him alone, to let off a few jokes about the worshipful red feet of his divinity.[1] He soon after came in. When tea was over, and some time had been spent in conversation, we set out in company for a walk.
When I took my leave, Mrs. Sen said—"Manmatha Babu, if you will join us again at tea to-morrow, we can afterwards go out for a walk together."
It occurred to me that now was the time clearly to decline the invitation. Should I give the true reason for my objection thereto? Should I not take this opportunity to bring home to her the deep sociological truth underlying the idea? But again I thought—"What is it for an invitation? 'If you come.' Could that be called an invitation?"
Disturbed with this inward debate, I could not frame any answer, and on their part they were giving the farewell salute.
- ↑ All the Hindu goddesses have red feet.