"Excuse me, kind Lahnar," answered Urad, "but I must refuse your offer. Grief has driven away appetite to aught but itself far from me, and I am not solicitous to take provisions which I cannot use."
"At least," replied Lahnar, "permit me to sit beside you, and eat of what is here before us."
Upon which, without other excuses, Lahnar emptied her basket, and set a bowl of rice and fish before Urad, and began to feed heartily on that which she had brought for herself.
Urad was tempted by hunger and the example of Lahnar to begin, but she was doubtful about tasting the fish of Darandu; wherefore she first attempted the boiled rice, though her appetite was most inclined to the fish, of which she at last ate very heartily, when she recollected that as she had partaken with Lahnar, it was the same whatever part she accepted.
Lahnar having finished her meal, and advised Urad to think of some methods of social life, took her leave, and left the unsettled virgin to meditate on her strange visitor.
Urad, though confused, could not help expressing some pleasure at this visit; for such is the blessing of society, that it will always give comfort to those who have been disused to its sweet effects.
But Urad, though pleased with the friendship of Lahnar, yet was confounded when, some few minutes after, she perceived her again returning.
"What," said Urad, "brings back Lahnar to the sorrows of this cottage?"
"Urad," said Lahnar, "I will rest with my friend to-night, for the shades of night cast horrors around, and I dare not disturb my father's cottage by my late approach."
But as soon as she had admitted Lahnar, she perceived that it was Darandu disguised in Lahnar's clothes. Urad, greatly terrified, recollecting her lost friend Houadir, felt for a peppercorn, and let it fall to the ground.