in his duty.  During the lifetime of his parents he was devoted to them.  Attached to his wife, kind to his friends, considerate to his servants, a protector of his dependants, and peaceable towards his enemies, wise in counsel, trustworthy in act, gentle in conversation, ready at a jest.  The natural reward of such a nature was unalloyed happiness.  Since Nagendra’s infancy it had been so:  honour at home, fame abroad, devoted servants, an attached tenantry; from Surja Mukhi, unwavering, unbounded, unstained love.  If so much happiness had not been allotted to him he could not have suffered so keenly.  Had he not suffered he had not given way to his passion.  Before he had cast the eyes of desire upon Kunda Nandini he had never fallen into this snare, because he had never known the want of love.  Therefore he had never felt the necessity of putting a rein upon his inclinations.  Accordingly, when the need of self-control arose he had not the power to exercise it.  Unqualified happiness is often the source of suffering; and unless there has been suffering, permanent happiness cannot exist.

It cannot be said that Nagendra was faultless.  His fault was very heavy.  A severe expiation had begun.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE SEARCH.

It is needless to say that when the news of Surja Mukhi’s flight had spread through the house, people were sent in great haste in search of her.  Nagendra sent people in all directions, Srish Chandra sent, and Kamal Mani sent.  The upper servants among the women threw down their water-jars and started off; the Hindustani Durwans of the North-West Provinces, carrying bamboo staves, wearing cotton-quilted chintz coats, clattered along in shoes of undressed leather; the khansamahs, with towel on the shoulder and silver chain round the waist, went in search of the mistress.  Some relatives drove in carriages along the public roads.  The villagers searched the fields and ghats; some sat smoking in council under a tree; some went to the barowari puja house, to the verandah of Siva’s temple, and to the schools of the professors of logic, and in other similar places sat and discussed the matter.  Old and young women formed a small cause court on the ghats; to the boys of the place it was cause of great excitement; many of them hoped to escape going to school.

At first Srish Chandra and Kamal Mani comforted Nagendra, saying, “She has never been accustomed to walk; how far can she go?  Half a mile, or a mile at the most; hence she must be sitting somewhere near at hand, we shall find her immediately.”

But when two or three hours had passed without bringing news of Surja Mukhi, Nagendra himself went forth.  After some stay in the broiling sun he said to himself, “I am looking here, when no doubt she has been found by this time;” and he returned home.  Then finding no news of her he went out again, again to return, and again to go forth.  So the day passed.