again, "cannot your sister's husband know the reason?"
"He!" said she, as much with shame as with sorrow. "You know him well. He will be angry if I remain."
"Angry if you remain with your sister?" again inquired Madhav, "did you promise him to return so soon? Does he know where you are?"
"No," said she, "I did not promise him anything, nor does he know where I am."
"Strange," said Madhav. "I don't understand how then you could come. Was he at home when you left?"
"Ask not such questions," replied she.
A dark suspicion crossed Madhav's mind at this reply, but he soon abandoned it as groundless. He sat musing in deep silence for moments during which Matangini kept fixed on him her large, blue, sorrowful eyes.
"Why do I linger?" she said at length, "I go; Karuna will go with me. Farewell," added she sadly, her voice growing thick, "Fare you well! Be you happy, Madhav." Madhav looked up to her face—it was wet; Matangini was weeping! "and be my Hem happy with you."
"You weep!" said Madhav, "you are unhappy."
Matangini replied not, but sobbed. Then, as if under the influence of a maddening agony of soul, she grasped his hands in her own and bending over them her lily face so that Madhav trembled under the thrilling touch of the delicate
