What the old lady was before her grief commenced I cannot pretend to say; but in her present plight she appeared the fattest woman I had ever looked upon. We sat conversing and relating our adventures until the evening fell; and I spread my carpet for prayer. "Ah, he is a good Syud," said the old woman; "I like to see the young fond of their devotions; but it is ever thus with the noble race from Hindostan." I was preparing to take my departure, when they one and all cried out against it. "What! leave our house before you have broken bread and drunk water with us?" It was not to be thought of--I must stay--dinner was prepared; they were just on the point of sending for me when I came; and, above all, it was the ninth day of the Mohorum; and I must stay, were it but to see the procession of the Nal Sahib. That sacred relic, one of the shoes of the horse the blessed Prophet rode when he fled to Medina, would be carried in grand procession, and I should never have a chance of seeing the like again. These reasons, and many imploring looks from Zora made me speedily determine; so, sending away my horse and the man, with a message to my father to say I should not return, I gave myself up to a night of enjoyment, such as I little expected when I parted with Zora in the morning. The dinner was excellent, and the old lady's cooking unexceptionable. There were all sorts of curries, with but a mouthful in each little cup, but still sufficient of each to leave an exquisite flavour in the mouth, only to be replaced by another surpassing it--pilaus of various kinds, and sweetmeats; and, to crown all, some delicious wine of the infidels called the Francees, which the old lady pronounced not to be wine, but sherbet, and allowed to the Huzoor himself, the great Sikundur Jah. It certainly was very delicious, and elevated the spirits. At the end, after taking a whiff or two, she carefully wiped the mouth-piece, and presented me with her own hookah, the fragrance of which was beyond that of ambergris or musk. I was in paradise!--I was intensely happy! "You have heard me sing," said Zora to me, "when I was in captivity, and, after the fatigues of travel, in our little tent, where there was no scope for my voice; now my heart is glad and bounding, and you shall hear me again--may the Prophet pardon me for singing during the Mohorum!--and you shall say which you like best; my sister shall accompany me till I am tired, and I will then accompany her."