CHAPTER XII.
Barada Babu.
Becharam Babu of Bow Bazar was sitting in his reception-hall, and with him were a few persons singing snatches of songs. The Babu was himself selecting the different subjects, and his selection was a sufficiently varied one: the verses were being sung to the most popular tunes. Many people in the exuberance of their enthusiasm would have rolled about on the floor on hearing such ravishing strains, but Becharam Babu sat there as stolid as a painted marionette. Beni Babu of Bally arrived while the music was still in progress, and Becharam Babu at once stopped it, and said to his guest: "Ah! Beni, my friend! what, are you still alive? Baburam is still nursing his wrath; it is like fire smouldering amid burnt rags. He absolutely refuses to bid pacified. Some unpleasantness was bound to arise out of the affair of Manirampur: it has been an experience for us. It is commonly reported that the family has a bitter enemy, and that he went as one of the bridegroom's party."
Beni.-- Speak to me no more on the subject of Baburam Babu: the whole affair has annoyed me extremely. I should like to get away altogether and give up my house at Bally: the old Sanscrit saying occurs to me, "What else may not destiny have in store for me?"
Becharam.-- Well, such is the way things are going with Baburam: what else can you expect from such a man, with such a counsellor, such companions, and such a son? Yet his younger son is a good boy: how is that? He is the lotus flower on the dung-heap.