CHAPTER XVII
JoGENDRA returned from up-country by the morning train next day. It was Saturday, and Sunday was to be Hemnalini's wedding-day; yet as he approached the house he observed none of the signs of festivity that he had anticipated. No festoons of debdar leaves hung on the verandah. In fact there was nothing to distinguish the house from its dingy and unlovely neighbours.
He dreaded to hear a tale of sudden sickness, but as he hurried indoors there was no sign of anything untoward. A meal was ready for him, and Annada Babu sat at the table reading the newspaper with a half-finished cup of tea before him.
"Is Hem all right?" exclaimed Jogendra as he en- tered the room.
Annada Babu. "She's quite well."
Jogendra. "What about the wedding?"
Annada Babu, "It's to be the Sunday after next."
Jogendra, "Why was it put off?"
Annada Babu. You had better ask your friend. Ramesh merely told us that he had some urgent business and that the wedding couldn't take place on Sunday."
Jogendra inwardly cursed his father's supineness. "When I'm not here you people make an awful muddle of everything, dad," he said. "What important busi- ness could he have? He's his own master. He has no relations that count. If he has got into a mess over some business matter I don't see what there was to hinder him from telling you all about it. Why did you let it rest at that ?"
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