Then the girl forthwith went to warm some milk and Jivananda found congenial occupation in turning the spinning-wheel awhile. The child, since it came to the young woman, never thought of crying. We don't know what it thought — perhaps it took the girl for its mother, finding her as lovely as a lotus in full bloom. But perhaps the flame had slightly seared her and she cried once. On hearing it Jivananda shouted out : "O Nimi, you wicked wench ; what are you about? Haven't finished warming the milk yet ?" "Yes, brother," answered Nimi,"! have finished," and she poured the milk in a stone cup and brought it to Jivananda. Jivananda pretended to be mightily angry and said : " I have half a mind to throw this hot milk in your face. You think I should be drinking the milk, Eh ?" " Who'll take it then?," asked Nimi. " Don't you see the girl ? Feed her with this, would you?," said Jivananda. Nimi then squated down on the floor, laid the girl on her lap and began to feed her with a spoon. A few drops of tears however rolled down her cheek. She had had a son who was dead and the spoon with which she fed the girl now belonged to him. She instantly wiped her eyes, however and smiled as she asked, "Do tell me, brother, whose daughter it is ?" " What's that to thee, you naughty thing ?," retorted Jivananda. " Give me the girl, would you ?"
