They soon returned; but they knew nothing, save that there was great joy in the house when her relatives saw her. Towards evening I could no longer control my impatience; and, taking one of them with me, I mounted my horse and rode to her house. It was situated nearly opposite a fountain, which is in the centre of the street below the Char Minar, and I had passed it the day before. I was easily admitted; and oh! what joy was evinced when I entered the room where Zora, her sister, and mother were seated. "He is come!" cried my poor girl, and she rushed into my arms. She strained me to her breast for an instant, and then, holding me from her, "Look, mother!" she cried; "look on him; is he not as I said--is he not as beautiful and brave!" The old lady approached me, and, passing her hands over my face, cracked her knuckles, and every joint of her fingers, by pressing the backs of her hands against her temples, while the tears ran down her cheeks. This she did as often as there was a joint to crack; and then she caught me in her arms and hugged me, crying at the same time like a child. The sister received me, I thought, rather coldly. Had I been less handsome, perhaps, she would have been more cordial; she did not seem to like Zora's having so handsome a lover. "May the blessing of the Prophet and the twelve Imams be on you and your posterity!" cried the old lady, when she had recovered breath to speak. "May the gracious Alla keep you in his protection, and may the lady Muriam and the holy Moula-ali bless you! You have made a desolate house full again, and have changed our weeping to joy. What can I say more? Who could have thought it was our Zora when a cart stopped at the door? Zenatbee was just saying that it was that vile wretch Sukeena, come to pretend condolence, while in reality she rejoiced at our misfortune, which left her without a rival; and I was saying--no matter what I was saying--when we heard a faint cry, as if of astonishment, and a bustle, and we did not know what to think; when in rushed our lost Zora, our pearl, our diamond; and then I thought my old heart would break with joy, for my liver seemed to be melted; and I have done nothing since, Meer Sahib, but sit opposite to her, and stroke her face with my hands, and gaze into her eyes, to assure myself that I am not mistaken. Inshalla! to-morrow I will send five rupees to every shrine in the city, and distribute sweetmeats to fifty beggars in the name of the Imam Zamin; besides, I will have a tazea made, and will no longer wear these mourning garments. Ah! Meer Sahib, if you knew how I have sat day after day, and wept till I am reduced to a mere shadow of what I was! and all my friends tried to console me, but in vain; I would not be comforted." And her tears flowed afresh at the recollection.