brilliant complexion and beautiful face. My mother had a large mirror in her bedroom, and whenever I found her absent from her room I went and stood before that mirror, admiring myself. I used to lean back my head and make the mass of my dark wavy hair touch the ground, or dress it in as many fashions as I possibly could. Sometimes I held up my beautiful arms, white as alabaster and rounded as the stalk of a lotus, to the golden morning light and gazed at them with eyes of wonder.
From my very childhood I refused to put on any colours except red or dark blue—I was quite aware of the fact that these two colours enhanced the beauty of my fine complexion. My grandfather was alive then. He used to be greatly amused at my pride and say, "My dear, it will be a hard job to find out a suitable bridegroom for you, great beauty that you are. To my knowledge, there is only one person worthy of that honour, that being my own humble self."
Though the scion of an old conservative family, my father cherished many modern theories and ideas. But as my grandfather was alive, he was unable to carry most of his theories into practice. A great agitation was then going on in Bengal about the education of women. My father sided with the modern party, who stood in favour of it, but not daring to send any girls of his family to the new girls' school, he himself began to teach me and my two sisters-in-law. But the last-mentioned young ladies favoured card-playing and gossiping much more than they did their studies. They had to make a show of studying so as not to fail in proper respect to their father-in-law, but they could never keep to it for more than half an hour. There never was any want of excuses—either their babies began to cry or some household duty required their prompt attention. But I took to my studies from the beginning. I finished all the books my father had brought into the
