Mother, I am like a son to you; look upon me as such,
and tell me your wish. If there is any remedy for your trouble, tell
me, and I will bring it about. Wishing to say this, I have sent Haro
Mani away, and am sitting alone with you. From your speech I infer
that you belong to a very respectable family. That you are in a state
of very great anxiety, I perceive. Why should you not tell me what it
is? Consider me as your son, and speak."
Surja Mukhi, with wet eyes, said: "I am dying; why should I feel shame
at such a time? I have no other trouble than this, that I am dying
without seeing my husband's face. If I could but see him once I should
die happy."
The _Brahmachari_ wiped his eyes also, and said:
"Where is your husband? It is impossible for you to go to him now; but
if he, on receiving the news, could come here, I would let him know by
letter."
Surja Mukhi's wan face expanded into a smile; then again becoming
dejected, she said: "He could come, but I cannot tell if he would. I
am guilty of a great offence against him, but he is full of kindness
to me; he might forgive me, but he is far from here. Can I live till
he comes?"
Finding, on further inquiry, that the Babu lived at Haripur Zillah,
the _Brahmachari_ brought pen and paper, and, taking Surja Mukhi's
instructions, wrote as follows:
"SIR,--I am a stranger to you.
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