only," said Hemangini, her face brightening. "I confess I am frightened—now tell me what is your errand."
Matangini mused in deep silence for a minute; then taking her resolution, she said, "Yes, I will go to him. You come with me, Hem."
But the modest girl positively refused to appear before her husband in the presence of her sister, though she did not say as much in words. "Stay then and speak not a word about me or my errand till I come back," said Matangini and darted away through the veranda, for she saw the moon's disk sinking on the tops of the trees. But as Matangini neared the door of Madhav's apartment, her feet trembled more violently than even when she had stood eying the glaring light in the mango-grove. She drew her sari over her forehead and proceeded softly and with seeming reluctance. She receded, advanced, stopped short, pushed aside the door, stopped again, and at length entered. A single lamp illuminated the gaily decorated apartment and the young Babu reclined on a rich sofa. Matangini stationed herself close to a wall with downcast head as befitted the modesty of her sex and age, her face scarcely turned towards that of her brother-in-law. Madhav gave a start and then only half rose from his reclining posture.
Neither, however, spoke, although one was as anxious to impart the fearful tidings she bore as the other to receive them, and a silence ensued which evidently embarrassed both. At length
