At dawn, Hemchandra set out in search of Madhavacharya. Girijaya came and sat beside Mrinalini. Girijaya had shared in Mrinalini’s sorrows, and with a sympathetic heart had listened to all her tales of woe in times of distress. Why, then, should she not be a sharer of happiness in these days of joy? Why, with the same warmth of heart, should she not now listen to tales of happiness? Girijaya was a beggar-woman, Mrinalini the daughter of a great noble— between them lay a vast social gulf. Yet in days of sorrow, Girijaya had been Mrinalini’s only friend; in such times, there is no difference between a beggar-woman and a princess. And so, today, Girijaya became the inheritor of Mrinalini’s heart’s happiness.

The conversation that followed filled Girijaya with wonder and delight. She asked Mrinalini, “But why did you never reveal such things before?”

Mrinalini: All this time, the prince forbade me to speak, so I kept silent. Now he has given me leave to tell it, and so I do.

Girijaya: Lady! Will you not tell me everything? I would be greatly satisfied to hear it all.

Then Mrinalini began to speak: “My father was a wealthy merchant, a follower of the Buddhist faith. He was exceedingly rich and a favorite of the king of Mathura— I was close friends with the princess of Mathura.

“One day, I went boating on the Yamuna with the princess. Suddenly, a fierce storm and rain arose, and the boat sank in the water. The princess and many others were saved by the guards and boatmen— He was saved. I was swept away by the current. By a stroke of fate, a prince was boating at that very moment. I did not know him then—he was Hemchandra. He too, fearing the storm, was steering his boat toward the shore. Seeing my hair floating in the water, he himself leapt in and pulled me out. At that time, I was unconscious! Hemchandra did not know who I was. He had come to Mathura on a pilgrimage. He took me to his house and nursed me back to health. When I regained consciousness, he inquired about my identity and made arrangements to send me back to my father’s home. But for three days the storm and rain did not cease. The weather was so dreadful that no one could step outside. Thus, for three days, we both had to remain in the same house. We came to know each other—not just our family backgrounds, but the depths of each other’s hearts. At that time, I was only fifteen years old. Yet even at that tender age, I became his devoted servant. In that soft youth, I could not comprehend everything. I began to see Hemchandra as a deity. Whatever he said seemed to me like the word of scripture. He said, “Marry.” Therefore, I felt it was my bounden duty. On the fourth day, seeing the calamity abate, we fasted; Digvijay made arrangements. The prince’s