Since then, she had been shaping her own character. The inspiring force she needed had been found, and, in some mysterious way, it was giving her momentum and strength. The new ideal of life that had appeared before her—she was striving to draw herself closer to it, and, feeling a sense of success, she imagined the day when she and Mehta would become one. This vision made her even more resolute and devoted.

But today, when Mehta brought her hopes to the threshold and placed before her an ideal of love in which love was dragged down from the realm of soul and surrender to the material plane—where suspicion, jealousy, and desire reign—her refined intellect was wounded. The reverence she felt for Mehta suffered a jolt, as if a disciple had caught their guru in a base act. She saw that Mehta’s sharp intellect was being drawn toward the animality of love, turning its eyes away from its divinity, and, seeing this, her heart sank.

Mehta, somewhat abashed, said, “Come, let us sit a while longer.”

Malti replied, “No, I must return now. It is getting late.”

:31:

Raisahab’s star was in the ascendant. All three of his ambitions had been fulfilled. His daughter’s wedding had taken place with great pomp, he had won his lawsuit, and not only had he succeeded in the election, he had also become a Home Member. Congratulations poured in from all sides; telegrams arrived in a constant stream. By winning this case, he had secured a place among the first rank of taluqdars. His honor had never been less than anyone’s before, but now its roots had grown even deeper and stronger. His portrait and character sketches were appearing one after another in the contemporary journals. His debts had increased greatly, but Raisahab no longer cared. He could free himself from debt simply by selling a small piece of this new property.

He had reached heights of happiness beyond even his loftiest dreams. Until now, he had only a bungalow in Lucknow. Now, it became necessary to have a bungalow in each of Nainital, Mussoorie, and Shimla. It no longer befitted him to stay in hotels or in another raja’s bungalow when visiting these places. When Surya Pratap Singh had bungalows in all these locations, it was a matter of great shame for Raisahab not to have his own.

By chance, he did not even have to go through the trouble of building bungalows. Ready-made bungalows were found at cheap prices. For each bungalow, a gardener, watchman, steward, cook, and so on were hired, and the greatest stroke of fortune was that, on the occasion of His Majesty’s birthday, he was also granted the title of Raja. Now his ambitions were completely satisfied. That day, a grand celebration was held, and such a magnificent feast took place that all previous records were broken. When His Excellency the Governor bestowed the title upon him, a wave of royal loyalty surged through his heart, filling every fiber of his being with pride. This was life! Not like those rebels who, falling into the trap of sedition, earned only disgrace, went to jail, and fell from the good graces of the officers. The very DSP who had arrested him last time now stood before him with folded hands, perhaps seeking forgiveness for his offense.

But the greatest triumph of his life came when his old, defeated enemy, Surya Pratap Singh, sent a proposal for his daughter’s marriage to Raisahab’s eldest son, Rudrapal Singh.

Neither winning a lawsuit had brought him such joy, nor becoming a minister. All those things had appeared in his imagination, but this—this was not only beyond hope, it was beyond imagination. The same Suryapratap Singh, who for months had considered him lower than his own dog, now wished to marry his daughter to his son! How impossible it seemed! Rudrapal was currently studying for his M.A.—a bold, steadfast idealist, self-reliant, proud, a lover of beauty and pleasure, and a lazy youth, who found his father’s hunger for wealth and status distasteful.

Raisahab was in Nainital at the time. When he received this message, his heart leapt with joy. Though he did not wish to put any pressure on his son regarding marriage, he was confident that whatever he decided, Rudrapal would have no objection. To be allied with Raja Suryapratap Singh was such a stroke of fortune that the thought of Rudrapal refusing did not even cross his mind. He immediately sent word to Raja Sahib, and at once telephoned Rudrapal. Rudrapal replied, “I do not accept.”

Never in his life had Raisahab felt such disappointment, nor such anger. He asked, “Any reason?”

“You will know when the time comes.”

“I wish to know now.”

“I do not wish to say.”

“You will have to obey my command.”

“What my soul does not accept, I cannot accept, even at your command.”

Raisahab tried to reason gently, “Son, in your idealism you are striking an axe at your own fortune. Have you thought how much this alliance would elevate your position in society? Consider it the will of God. Had I found a poor girl from that family, I would have counted myself fortunate, but this is Raja Suryapratap’s daughter, the jewel of our region. I see her every day. You must have seen her too. In beauty, virtue, character, and temperament, I have never seen a young woman like her. My days are numbered, but your life lies ahead. I do not wish to pressure you. You know how liberal my views are regarding marriage, but it is also my duty to warn you if I see you making a mistake.”

Rudrapal replied, “I made my decision on this matter long ago. There can be no change now.”

Raisahab’s anger flared again at his son’s obstinacy. He thundered, “It seems you have lost your mind. Come and see me at once. Do not delay. I have already given my word to Raja Sahib.”