reported it. The matter was not difficult, but the arguments for and against did not advance it towards a solution. Like a rudderless boat, the discussion kept turning round and round the same point; and at last threatened to be overwhelmed in a flood of tears.
Sharat said: “The doctor thinks you should stop here a few days longer.”
Kiran replied: “Your doctor knows everything!”
“ Well,” said Sharat, “you know that just now all sorts of illnesses are abroad. You would do well to stop here a month or two more.”
“And at this moment I suppose every one in this place is perfectly well!”
What had happened was this: Kiran was a universal favourite with her family and neighbours, so that, when she fell seriously ill, they were all anxious. The village wiseacres thought it shameless for her husband to make so much fuss about a mere wife and even to suggest a change of air, and asked if Sharat supposed that no woman had ever been ill before, or whether he had found out that the folk of the place to which he meant to take her were immortal. Did he imagine that the writ of Fate did not run there? But Sharat and his mother turned a deaf ear to them, thinking that the little
