Ramesh found Trailakya to be sociable and friendly. He found reprieve from his burdened thoughts with the intrusion of Trailakya as a companion.
"Is your wife on board ? You must forgive me, but I have already learnt from reliable source that she is on board."
Ramesh felt momentary scruple against replying him in the affirmative. Chakrabartti went in the direction of kitchen.
"Madam, I'm Uncle Chakrabartti of the west-country. you must not be shy of me. I see you're in possession of the kitchen ; I've no one to look after me and I hope you won't deny me my share of the good things," he told her with unusual intimacy.
She smiled so sweetly that Chakrabartti found her to be kind enough to him and thought that he was lucky enough to get his requirements served by the little lady. He lent his hand in cleaning up the utensils and assisting her in the kitchen. He helped her in making refreshing butter milk and offered her a pot wrapped up in paper and containing pickles. He started explaining her about his cooking skills :
"When I've made the buttermilk you take what you want for to-day and keep the rest for four days. Then taste it and you'll see that Uncle Chakrabartti makes no vain boast when he says he can prepare anything. Run away now and wash your hands ; it's nearly breakfast-time. I'll finish what cooking there is to be done. I've plenty of experience. My wife has always been delicate and I've learned cooking every thing. You're laughing at the old man, but I'm not joking, it's the honest truth !"
"You'll have to teach me how to make buttermilk which tastes so good," said Kamala, smilingly.
The old man's society served to fill up the blank in Kamala's existence, while his appearance on the scene was a relief to Ramesh too. The pronounced contrast between Ramesh's present manner and the unrestrained intimacy which had characterized their relations in the first few months, when he had believed Kamala to be his wedded wife, had inevitably wounded the girl's feelings. Anything that would tend to divert her thoughts from him was welcome and would leave him free to seek a cure for his own heart-ache.
"Well, Uncle," said Ramesh,"you had better decide where we are to disembark. Your recommendation will carry more weight than a blast from a steamer's whistle."
"Dear me, you've learned very quickly how to make up your mind. Why, we've only know each other for a few hours. Well, you had better get off at Ghazipur. Will you come to Ghazipur, my dear ? They grow fine roses there, and that's where this old admirer of yours lives."
Ramesh looked at Kamala and she at once nodded to show that she approved of the suggestion.
Chakrabartti and Umesh now settled down for the afternoon in Kamala's cabin, somewhat to her embarrassment, leaving Ramesh disconsolate outside. The steamer ploughed on steadily, and in the bright hues of the autumn sunshine the banks slid past like some peaceful but ever-changing vision-a panorama of rice-fields, landing-places, sandy slopes, farm-steadings, and tin-roofed markets, with here and there a little group of travellers waiting under the shade of an ancient banyan tree for the ferry-boat. From time to time the ripple of Kamala's laughter in the neighboring cabin reached Ramesh's ear through the pleasant stillness of the autumn afternoon. "How beautiful it is and how remote !" was the refrain that it set up in his heart.
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