When Parvati arrived at her husband’s home, she saw that the mansion she expected to see was more like a palace. It was designed in the old-fashioned style, with the private inner rooms, public outer rooms, a temple, a theater, a guest house, a courthouse, offices, and servant’s quarters. And so many servants! Parvati was astonished. She had known her husband was wealthy, but she hadn’t known quite how wealthy. He appeared to lack nothing, nothing that is, save kinspeople. The inner palace was practically empty. Only

an aged aunt was there there to welcome her as a newly-married bride, the rest of the people were the servants.

In the evening, a good-looking, graceful youth of about twenty, approached her.

“Mother”, said the youth, “I am your eldest son.”

Parvati looked at him wordlessly.

“Mother”, repeated the youth, “I am your eldest son, come to greet you.”

Parvati pushed aside the head covering that almost veiled her face.

In a gentle voice, she said, “Come here, my dear.”

The youth, whose name was Mohendro, looked at Parvati in a surprised manner. Then he sat down and continued, “My mother died two years ago, and the past two years have passed in sorrow. Now you are here as my mother, bless me that the rest of my days will be spent in contentment.”

It was not Parvati’s nature to be moved easily by soft words; she was mature beyond her years and false modesty was never one of her vices.

She asked, “ Where are the rest of my children, my dear?”

Mohendro answered with a smile, “ Your daughter, my younger sister, is at her in-laws. I wrote to her, but there was no way that Joshoda could come.”

Parvati asked, in a grieved voice, “Couldn’t come or wouldn’t come?”

Mohendro said, embarrassed,” I really don’t know, Mother.”

But from his tone, and his looks, Parvati understood that Joshoda had refused to come, out of anger.

She continued, “And my youngest son?”

Mohendro replied,”He’s in Calcutta. He will return soon, when his examinations are over.”

Bhubon Chowdhury took his duties are a zamindar seriously. He was busy from noon till night, overseeing his estates. Some nights he would visit Parvati, sometimes not. Even when he visited, he did not act like a newly-married bridegroom. He spoke little, and fell asleep soon.

He instructed Parvati, “ You are the mistress of the house now. You must take care of it.”

Parvati agreed, “Very well.”

Further, he said, “Look, my children, they are yours now. Mohen, my eldest, a good boy, just passed his B.A., such a kind-hearted fellow. He could use some care.”

Parvati stifled a giggle. “Yes, I know, he is my eldest son.”

“Of course, and there’s my daughter Josho, what a beauty! She will come to visit, I’m sure of it. Won’t she come to see her old father? Of course she will! And when she comes …”

Parvati gently carressed her husband’s head.

“Of course she will come, “ she said soothingly “I will send for her, or ask Mohen to fetch her.”

“You will ? I haven’t seen her for a long time. Will you really send for her?”

“Of course I will. My daughter, don’t I want to see her, too?”

At this Bhubon sat up eagerly. Holding Parvati’s hands tenderly, he cried , ” Bless you, may God bless you with long life and contentment.” , then remembering something, he lay down again and closed his eyes.

“My eldest daughter, my only daughter, she loved her so… ”, a tear escaped his closed eyes and trickled down his cheek. Parvati leant over to wipe it away. She said softly,

“They will come, I promise you. Your daughter, your sons, and then your daughters-in-law. Yes, the house will be full of happiness again –laughter, conversation – ah, wasn’t this household a happy one, once? a joyful one, then one day the light went out, and all was dark, quiet as the grave …”

Now Bhubon’s tears flowed freely. Parvati wiped them, asking ,“ Why isn’t Mohen married yet”

“Ah, don’t I wish he would marry? Yet, who knows what is in his heart, and he is stubborn. He refuses to marry. That’s why this house is empty, without the sound of children, and I am alone in my old age.”

Parvati heard these melancholy words, sadly.

Pretending to smile, she shook her head at him.

“If you are old, then I must grow old fast! It doesn’t take women long to age.”

Bhubon sat up again, and taking her hand in his, gazed long at her face. Gazed, as an artist might look at his painting, examining it from this side and that, looking to see if he had caught the affection, he pride, the beauty of the subject.

He said , ” Ah, I’ve not done well!”

“What haven’t you done well?”

“I was thinking, bringing you here, to this – it won’t suit you.”

Parvati laughed out loud, “ It suits me fine, and since when have women said they will ‘suit’ or ‘not suit’?”

Lying down again, Bhubon said, as if to himself, “I understand, I understand . But good will happen because of you. God will bless you.”

In this way, more than a month passed by. Nilkontho Chokrovorty came to visit, and to take his daughter home with him. But Parvati refused, saying, “This household still needs to be pulled into shape. I will come and visit in a little while.”

Nilkontho turned away to hide a smile. He thought, “Women are mysterious beings indeed!”

After good-byes were said, Parvati called Mohendro.

“My dear, now you must bring my daughter to me!”

Mohendro hesitated. He knew Joshoda would refuse to come. He said, “Maybe father should go?”

“How will that look? No, I have a better plan – you and I will go, mother and son, to bring home the daughter.”

Mohendro was astonished. “You would go?”

“Why not? Is