"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."
"Then if you are so," said the old wretch, "what, in the name of Alla, has come to you, that you think we would part with Zora for five hundred rupees? Five thousand and twice as much would not be sufficient."
"Then," said I, "you are a pair of the devil's children, and I spit at you. Not content with spurning me from your house like a dog, you now deny me the only happiness I looked to on earth. Women, have you no hearts?"
"Yes," cried the old hag in a fury; "yes, we did spurn you, as I do now. Begone! and never dare to intrude as you have done this night, or I will see if I cannot bring a few stout fellows together to beat you out with sticks like a dog and a son of a dog as you are."