for the occasion, but so easily had her natural grace risen above it that one failed to notice it. It was hard to believe that she had been born in this lowly cottage, yet at the same time I knew that she would not have looked quite so wonderful in a rich man's palace. It seemed to my entranced gaze that all the glimmering splendour of the twilight had suddenly taken shape before me and the evening star had come down from the sky to shine in the dark depths of her eyes.
I had heard that the girl was quite a child, about eleven or twelve, but on seeing her I understood that to be a falsehood, exacted from her parents by orthodox society.
One of my friends asked the girl, "What is your name?"
"Surama," she answered. Her voice told the others only her name, but to me it further revealed that the outward radiance of her face and form was matched by an inner radiance as great.
The girl was taken away. The father was told that his daughter had passed the trial successfully. As we returned by the village road, the light faded fast from the evening sky; but a golden twilight still reigned in my heart.
Mother was overjoyed, when she heard how pleased we were with the bride, and the girls of our house were all day listening to Probodh's description of her. But if they had come to me, I should have disappointed them. I could not for my life have told them in detail how large her eyes were, how fair her complexion, and how dark was her long and wavy hair. I carried within my heart a picture painted in the colours of light and gold, but I could not have described her in words.
The marriage had been practically settled, at least so I gathered from the increasing bustle that manifested itself
