As Venugopal grew up, his father gradually became accustomed to spending
money on him. He obtained an old teacher, who had a considerable repute
for his learning and also for his success in dragging impassable boys
through their examinations. But such a training does not lead to the
cultivation of amiability. This man tried his best to win the boy's
heart, but the little that was left in him of the natural milk of human
kindness had turned sour, and the child repulsed his advances from the
very beginning. The mother, in consequence, objected to him strongly,
and complained that the very sight of him made her boy ill. So the
teacher left.
Just then, Haralal made his appearance with a dirty dress and a torn
pair of old canvas shoes. Haralal's mother, who was a widow, had kept
him with great difficulty at a District school out of the scanty
earnings which she made by cooking in strange houses and husking rice.
He managed to pass the Matriculation and determined to go to College. As
a result of his half-starved condition, his pinched face tapered to a
point in an unnatural manner,--like Cape Comorin in the map of India;
and the only broad portion of it was his forehead, which resembled the
ranges of the Himalayas.
The servant asked Haralal what he wanted, and he answered timidly that
he wished to see the master.
The servant answered sharply: "You can't see him." Haralal was
hesitating, at a loss what to do next, when Venugopal, who had finished
his game in the garden, suddenly came to the door. The servant shouted
at Haralal: "Get away." Quite unaccountably Venugopal grew excited and
cried: "No, he shan't get away." And he dragged the stranger to his
father.
Adharlal had just risen from his mid-day sleep and was sitting quietly
on the upper verandah in his cane chair, rocking his legs. Ratikanta was
enjoying his hookah, seated in a chair next to him. He asked Haralal how
far he had got in his reading. The young man bent his head and answered
that he had passed the Matriculation. Ratikanta looked stern and
expressed surprise that he should be so backward for his age. Haralal
kept silence. It was Ratikanta's special pleasure to torture his
patron's dependants, whether actual or potential.
Suddenly it struck Adharlal that he would be able to employ this youth
as a tutor for his son on next to nothing. He agreed, there and then, to
take him at a salary of five rupees a month with board and lodging free.