Stories of Bengalee Life/The Fulfilment of a Vow/Chapter 2
II
A few days later the wife of Upendra Banerji came in a palanquin to visit the mother of Bhabatosh. After the first greetings the wife of Upendra Babu said—"Sister, was Bhabatosh agreeable?"
"He is ready to marry, but he has strange ideas in his head."
"What sort of ideas?"
"First, he said he must see the girl before consenting. I said that would be very good. I could procure his seeing a beautiful girl, in every way suitable. Then he said he would not marry a beauty, but desired a dark ugly girl for a wife."
Upen Babu's wife was astonished. "I never heard of a fancy so unnatural"—she said. "Why does he show such a strange humour?"
The mother then gave to her friend the reasons Bhabatosh had explained to herself. After some reflection Upen Babu's wife said—"I will ask you to do one little thing, sister. Write to Bhabatosh to come this Saturdav. Tell him you have found a girl that you think will suit and ask him to come and see her. When he is here, send him to our house on Sunday afternoon. I will arrange everything."
The mother consented, as she thought—"Upendra Babu's wife fancies that if Bhabatosh only sees Pulina, he will be unable to resist marrying her and that would be no marvel, for the girl is indeed lovely."
Bhabatosh came home on the Saturday. The next afternoon he set out in a bullock carriage, his hair in glorious disorder, (because the ancient Hindu sages did not dress their hair), for the village where the Banerjis lived.
On arrival he heard that Upen Babu was away on business. A young man received him courteously and took him to the reception room. This youth was a nephew of Upendra Babu. After a while a maid-servant informed them that they were to go to the inner apartments. The maid, looking at Bhabatosh, smiled mischievously.
The two young men went in, the visitor having the impression that all the servants were laughing secretly. Bhabatosh was taken to a room very well arranged. In the middle a seat had been placed before which stood silver trays containing sweetmeats and fruit. A little further off, another seat had been placed. Complying with the request of his young host, Bhabatosh sat down to partake of the refreshments. At this moment there was a sound of the jingling of anklets outside, and a maid entered, bringing in a girl who, taking the other seat, gazed around her with looks full of curiosity.
Bhabatosh eat of the fruit slowly, casting side glances at the girl. She wore a Bombay sari of a purple colour. Her head was uncovered, her hair dressed with a liberal supply of oil. The girl was blacker than ink, her small eyes sunk in their sockets glanced perpetually around, her forehead was high, the chin scarcely existed, heir front teeth were much too prominent. Bhabatosh thought, this girl would make him a pattern wife. Clearing his throat and summoning up his courage he asked—"What is your name?"
The girl looking suddenly at the speaker and showing the tip of her tongue, said—"What?"
"What is your name?"
"My name is Jagadamba" (a name as out of date as Griselda or Lavinia.)
Thereupon the young host and the maid-servant cast angry looks at the girl, who immediately added—"My name is Pulina" (a name as modern as the other was ancient.)
The youth said—"Formerly her name was Jagadamba, but now she is called Pulina."
Bhabatosh thought—"The change is not for the better. Pulina! Jagadamba sounds far better; it is a Puranic name used by the ancient priests. If I marry her, that name shall be re-instated." He then asked aloud—"Do you read?"
As before, the girl put out the tip of her tongue and said—"What?"
"Do you read?"
"I don't read at all. My brother—"
The maid-servant and the youth again shooting angry glances at her, the girl desisted. Bhabatosh was even more pleased. This was just the very thing. There was every chance of his making of her a real Hindu house-mistress. She was not much to look at; but then that exactly was his vow. When the wedding was arranged he would invite his mess-mates to witness it. Aloud he said—"Well, you can go now."
Again the girl said—"what?"—displaying the end of her tongue.
"You can go."
The maid-servant took her away. Bhabatosh had finished his lunch. At this moment a girl of thirteen brought spices in a silver dish. She was a lovely child. She wore a white country sari bordered black. She had four anklets on her feet. On her wrists she wore bracelets of gold. Putting down the spices she went away. As she went with averted looks she let a little smile escape her lips.
Bhabatosh thought to himself—"There is a beautiful girl. If I were to marry her, how should I be safe? My life-long ideals would sink to the bottom of the sea." His mind was quite up-lifted with self-glorification over the fulfilment of his vow.
The youth took Bhabatosh to the outer apartments. The maid-servant, laughing a little, said—"The ladies of the house are asking if you approve of the bride."
"I do"—replied Bhabatosh with much dignity.