After this lecture, his patron, who had sufficiently discovered to Ambrosio that he was a true Spaniard in his opinion of the fair sex, set his new gardener to work in his own presence, to judge of his ability, for he knew enough of the art to judge of his performance. Fortunately for Ozmin, he had a taste for flowers, and was as skilful in their culture as many a florist by profession. Don Lewis was soon convinced that he had gained an acquisition, upon which he prided himself, and he was so full of it, that he could not refrain from mentioning it at dinner. He said that he had been lucky enough to meet with a gardener to cultivate his flowers, and he hoped that for the future his flower-garden would be well attended to. “Among my workmen,” added he, “I remarked a young fellow who was employed at the wheelbarrow, whom I asked a few questions, and have discovered that he is a complete adept in the culture of flowers.” This discourse did not escape Daraxa, who doubted not that the new gardener was Ozmin, and hoped that she should by this means have more frequent opportunities of speaking and writing to him. After dinner, she led Elvira into her apartment, where they both stood at the window that looked towards the garden. Ambrosio was at this time in the middle of the parterre opposite to them. The beautiful Moor having recognized him, and wishing to amuse herself, pointed him out to her friend; “Look at the gardener of whose skill your father has been boasting to us just now; observe him attentively; does not your heart whisper something in his favour? do you not feel some unusual emotions?” Elvira laughed aloud at these words which she thought were meant only in joke; but after having looked for sometime she began to suspect the truth. But the fear of being mistaken, and then laughed at, prevented her from saying what she thought, till Daraxa pressing her to answer and calling her insensible confirmed her suspicions. She then broke forth into an excess of joy and passionate expressions which but too well betrayed her excessive love for Don Jaymé. The prudent Moor rejoiced exceedingly that she had no longer concealed the metamorphosis of that cavalier. “My dear Elvira,” said she, “it is well that I have been the first to make this discovery. Alas! if Don Jaymé had presented himself before you in the presence of Don Lewis or Don Rodrigo, your surprise would have ruined us; but as you are now prepared to see him, I trust you will so restrain your feelings, as not to create any suspicions.” Elvira promised that she would do her best: after which the two ladies amused themselves by discoursing of the pretended Ambrosio. Don Lewis’s daughter could not conceive how he had managed to deceive her father, the most mistrustful of men; and felt well pleased that Don Jaymé had subjected himself to so mean an employment for her sake. Had she known as much as her friend upon that score, her grateful sentiments would doubtless have abated.