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"What are you talking about?" asked Nagendra. "I cannot tell you for shame." Nagendra's brow became dark. He said: "Go home for to-day; I will call you to-morrow." Hira's desire was accomplished. With this design she had quarrelled with Kousalya. Nagendra rose and went to Surja Mukhi. Stepping lightly, Hira followed him. Taking Surja Mukhi aside, he asked, "Have you dismissed Hira?"
She began to return these good wishes in similar terms. In the act of quarrelling Kousalya was the superior. Therefore Hira got her deserts. Then Hira went to complain to her mistress. If any one could have looked at her as she went, they would have seen no signs of anger on her face, but rather a smile on her lips.
But when she reached her mistress, her face expressed great anger, and she began by using the weapon given by God to woman that is to say, she shed a flood of tears. Surja Mukhi inquired into the cause. On hearing the complaint, she judged that Hira was in fault. Nevertheless, for her sake, she scolded Kousalya slightly.
She saw in one of the large rooms all the women of the house, the boys and the girls surrounding some one and making a great noise. Of the person surrounded, Hira could see nothing but the hair, which Kousalya and the other attendants were dressing with scented oil and arranging becomingly. Of the by-standers encircling them some were laughing, some weeping, some talking, some uttering blessings.
Kousalya heard the question, and answered, "Don't you know? The goddess of our house, and your executioner." Kousalya had lived all this time in fear of Hira. Now in her day of triumph she vented her spleen. The dressing being completed and all kindly greetings exchanged, Surja Mukhi said in a low voice to Kamal Mani, "Let us go and see Kunda. She is not guilty of any fault towards me.
You hope that I am ill that you may show people how good you are to me. May you be ill yourself." "Be it so! Why are you angry, sister? You must die some day; Death will not forget you, nor will he forget me." "May Death never forget you! You envy me! May you die of envy! May your life be short! Go to destruction! May blindness seize upon you!" Kousalya could bear no more.
One morning early, the wicked Hira came into her mistress's house ready for work. There was a servant in the Datta household named Kousalya, who hated Hira because she was head servant and enjoyed the favour of the mistress. Hira said to her: "Sister Kushi, I feel very strange to-day; will you do my work for me?"
Kousalya feared Hira, therefore she said: "Of course I will do it; we are all subject to illness, and all the subjects of one mistress." So, shaking her head, she said: "You presume so far as to abuse me?" Astonished, Kousalya said: "When did I abuse any one?" "What!" said Hira, angrily, "you deny it? Why did you speak of my illness? Do you think I am going to die?
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