‘Who, my lady?’ asked Chhaya in a tone of intense curiosity, raising her head.

Encouraged by Chhaya’s intimacy, Divya replied, ‘Prithusen.’ Just then her eyes fell on the attendant sitting at the back seat of the chariot. Confused, she somehow managed to complete her sentence, ‘Arya Prithusen has submitted a petition through me in my great-grandfather’s court. That’s what I am going to discuss.’ And again Divya lost herself in her train of thoughts.

Devi Mallika was at her toilette, getting ready for the evening’s recital when the maidservant came to tell her that the Chief Justice’s great-granddaughter had arrived at the gate in her chariot. Beside herself with joy, and impatient like a cow eager to meet her calf, Mallika rushed barefoot towards the main gate. The two women met on the path leading to the inner courtyard. She took Divya in her arms, and according to the custom, smelt her hair. Tenderly lifting Divya’s chin, she said reproachfully, ‘Should you have forgotten me for so long? Ruchira has abandoned me; will you leave me too?’ Mallika wiped her tearful eyes and, looking closely at Divya’s face, said, ‘You are looking so pale! Why, I hope you are in good health? May Ashvini Kumar, the Physician of the Gods, protect you. You are looking worried. It is almost two months since the Festival of Spring. You haven’t even bothered to enquire about your aging mother.’

Mallika said all this in one breath. Overwhelmed, Divya could not utter a word in reply. She put her head on Mallika’s breast, and shut her eyes in sheer contentment. But as soon as she opened them, they began searching for someone … Hadn’t Arya arrived yet? Wasn’t it time that he did?

Moving towards her chamber, with her arm round Divya, Mallika continued to reproach her, ‘You are my only hope, my dear, you are the child of my soul. Fate snatched Ruchira from me. Having you, I thought I would be able to forget Ruchira. But you are so callous. You may not fear me, child, but you should at least respect Saraswati, the goddess of dance and music. Daughter, it is after the penance of many births that the goddess grants the boon of rare talent. But the recipient, who is indifferent to this gift, incurs the curse of the goddess. To you the goddess granted a portion of her own self.’

Mallika had dressed herself with particular care that evening. With unusual enthusiasm she ordered flagons of kapisha and kadambini wines for the guests. She informed the aged musician, Vabhru, about Divya’s arrival and instructed him to play his best. When the guests were seated on soft mattresses against heavy cushions, Mallika appeared before the gathering with Divya by her side. Then signalling the musicians to play the gandhari raga, she herself sang the first few notes. When the singing was over, she instructed the musicians to play the tune for the chhalika dance.

Divya could not ignore Devi Mallika’s invitation, but her heart was not in her dancing. Her eyes wandered again and again towards the door and the garden path beyond. The guests cheered the Daughter of Saraswati as the most skilful dancer in Sagal. Presents were offered to Mallika as a token of their satisfaction at the performance. Mallika remained silent. But when the performance was over, she turned towards Divya, ‘Lack of practice is the worst enemy of art. Is there anything on your mind, my child?’