regarded as in many ways a formal one, a slightly lower form than the recognised marriage. The man and the woman are of the same caste always: there would even be strong objection on the part of the man or woman's relations if either the one or the other did not come from a 'respectable' family.

Babun knew well his brother-in-law's dislike of Silindu, and the contempt with which the 'veddas' were regarded by the other villagers. He knew that his sister and Babehami would be very angry with him if he chose a wife from such a family. But he had watched Punchi Menika, and gradually a love, which was more than mere desire, had grown up in him. The wildness and strangeness of her father and of Hinnihami were tempered in her by a wonderful gentleness. Passion and desire were strong in him: they would allow no interference with his determination to take her to live with him.

The night after his meeting with Punchi Menika on the path from the chena, he broke the news to Nanchohami and Babehami, as he and his brother-in-law were eating the evening meal.

'Sister,' he said, 'it is time that, I took a wife.'

Nanchohami laughed. 'There is no difficulty. When you go to the chena the women look after you and smile and say, "Chi! chi! There goes a man. O that he would take my daughter to his house." But there are no women for you here. They are all sickly things, unfit to bear you children.'

'My father's brother married a woman of Kotegoda,' said Babehami. 'In those days wives brought dowries with them—of land. He went to live on her land at Kotegoda: it lies fifty miles away, towards Ruhuna. His sons and daughters are married now in that village, and have children. They are rich: it is a good village: rain falls there, and there are cocoanut lands, and paddy grows. The village spreads and prospers, and the headman is a rich man. They say that tax is paid upon sixty men every year. It would be a good thing for you to take a wife from there, for she would bring you a dowry.'

'Yes,' said Nanchohami, 'it would be a good thing for you to go to Kotegoda and take a woman from there, a daughter of my man's brother.[16] She would bring you land, and you could settle there. What use is it to live in this village? Even the chena crops wither for want of rain. It is an evil place this.'

'I want no woman of Kotegoda,' said Babun. 'Nor will I leave the village. There is a woman, this Punchi Menika, the daughter of Silindu. I am going to take her to 

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