In a few days the young Vajramukut had， by his liberality， soft speech， and good looks， made such progress in nurse Lakshmi's affections that， by the advice of his companion， he ventured to broach the subject ever nearest his heart. He begged his hostess， when she went on the morrow to visit the charming Padmavati， that she would be kind enough to slip a bit of paper into the princess's hand.
"Son，" she replied， delighted with the proposal —— and what old woman would not be？ ——"there is no need for putting off so urgent an affair till the morrow. Get your paper ready， and I will immediately give it."
Trembling with pleasure， the prince ran to find his friend， who was seated in the garden reading， as usual， and told him what the old nurse had engaged to do. He then began to debate about how he should write his letter， to cull sentences and to weigh phrases； whether "light of my eyes" was not too trite， and "blood of my liver" rather too forcible. At this the minister's son smiled， and bade the prince not trouble his head with composition. He then drew his inkstand from his waist shawl， nibbed a reed pen， and choosing a piece of pink and flowered paper， he wrote upon it a few lines. He then folded it， gummed it， sketched a lotus flower upon the outside， and handing it to the young prince， told him to give it to their hostess， and that all would be well.
The old woman took her staff in her hand and hobbled straight to the palace. Arrived there， she found the Raja's daughter sitting alone in her apartment. The maiden， seeing her nurse， immediately arose， and making a respectful bow， led her to a seat and began the most affectionate inquiries. After giving her blessing and sitting for some time and chatting about indifferent matters， the nurse said， " O daughter！ in infancy I reared and nourished thee， now the Bhagwan （Deity） has rewarded me by giving thee stature， beauty， health， and goodness. My heart only longs to see the happiness of thy womanhood， [FN#58] after which I shall depart in peace. I implore thee read this paper， given to me by the handsomest and the properest young man that my eyes have ever seen."
[FN#58] Meaning marriage maternity， and so forth.
The princess， glancing at the lotus on the outside of the note， slowly unfolded it and perused its contents， which were as follows：
1.
She was to me the pearl that clings To sands all hid from mortal sight，Yet fit for diadems of kings，The pure and lovely light.
2.
She was to me the gleam of sun That breaks the gloom of wintry day；One moment shone my soul upon，Then passed ——how soon！ - away.
3.
She was to me the dreams of bliss That float the dying eyes before，For one short hour shed happiness，And fly to bless no more.
4.
O light， again upon me shine；O pearl， again delight my eyes；O dreams of bliss， again be mine！ ——No！ earth may not be Paradise.
I must not forget to remark， parenthetically， that the minister's son， in order to make these lines generally useful， had provided them with a last stanza in triplicate. "For lovers，" he said sagely，" are either in the optative mood， the desperative， or the exultative." This time he had used the optative. For the desperative he would substitute：
4.
The joys of life lie dead， lie dead，The light of day is quenched in gloom The spark of hope my heart hath fled ——What now witholds me from the tomb？
And this was the termination exultative， as he called it：
4.
O joy I the pearl is mine again，Once more the day is bright and clear，And now 'tis real， then 'twas vain，My dream of bliss - O heaven is here！
