You may judge of my father's joy at my success; and to prove his sense of the value of my address and ready wit, he presented me with five hundred rupees out of the sum I had brought. With this at my disposal I determined to make a last attempt for Zora, for I thought that with it I might bribe the old woman who called herself her mother; and late as it was, I pleaded some excuse and set off for the city. I soon reached the now well-known street, and finding the door open I entered, and was ushered into the presence of the old woman and Zora's sister Zenat. They rose on seeing me, and welcomed me kindly. "You have not been with us, Meer Sahib, since the Mohorum," said the old woman as she cracked all her fingers against her temples. "You knew that you would always be our most favoured guest, and yet we have not seen you. Why has there been this estrangement from us?" I did not like to accuse the old woman of turning me from the door, as I have related before, so I said I had been absent from the city, and having only just returned had come to pay my respects to her. "And now, mother," said I, "where is Zora? Why is the rose separated from the nightingale?" "Zora!" said the old woman; "why, have you not forgotten that foolish girl? Is there not Zenatbee, who is dying for you, and has raved about you ever since she saw you?" "Toba! Toba!" cried Zenat, covering her face affectedly. "For shame, mother! how can you speak so? how can you tell such lies?" "I say the truth, Meer Sahib; I swear the foolish girl's head has been turned by your beauty;" and she stroked my chin caressingly. What could I do? I saw at once that if I did not affect love for Zenat I should never hear aught of Zora; but I could not forget her so easily, and I hated Zenat for her love. I thought it better to come to terms at once if I could. "Mother," said I, "I am proud of your daughter's love, and to one so young as I am such marks of preference as you say she is inclined to show me are most flattering; nevertheless, I cannot forget Zora; and tell me, by your soul, am I to see her or not? Now hear me; I am not a rich man, not one who could lavish thousands upon her, but what I have is hers for ever, and yours too, if you will give her to me. Will you part with her?" "What do you offer?" said the old woman. "Methinks you must be one of our nobles in disguise to come here with such a proposition." "I am no noble," said I, "but a poor Syud. I have five hundred rupees, and they are yours if you make Zora mine for ever; say the word, and to-morrow I will be present; we will send for a Moola, and the nika shall be performed." "Five hundred rupees!" cried the old woman, and she and her daughter burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. "Five hundred rupees!" continued she at length, when she could speak; "oh, man, thou art either mad or drunk!" "I am neither the one nor the other," I replied, very angrily; "I am as sober as either of you, nay far more so."