If, becoming angry, I say, 'May I die?' paying no
attention he answers, 'Yes.' If I ask where his thoughts are, he says
with his lawsuits; but I know they have no place in his mind; when he
speaks of his lawsuits he is always merry. Another point. One day the
old women of the neighbourhood were speaking of Kunda Nandini, pitying
her young widowhood, her unprotected condition. Your brother came up;
from within I saw his eyes fill with tears; he turned away and left
them quickly. The other day I engaged a new servant; her name is
Kumuda. Sometimes the Babu calls Kumuda; when so doing he often slips
out the name Kunda instead of Kumuda, then how confused he is--why
should he be confused? I cannot say he is neglectful of me, or
unaffectionate; rather he is more attentive than before, more
affectionate. The reason of this I fully understand: he is conscious
of fault towards me; but I know that I have no longer a place in his
heart. Attention is one thing, love quite another; the difference
between these two we women can easily understand.
"There is another amusing matter. A learned _pandit_ in Calcutta,
named Iswara Chandra Bidya Sagar, has published a book on the marriage
of widows.
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