shrubs, orange trees, and cypresses. The powerful
glasses brought out clearly the delicate marble pillars supporting the
Moorish archways of the upper gallery in one of these _patios_; but the
other was shrouded for me by a group of cypresses.

For a long time I waited--hours it seemed; but no one moved along the
gallery or appeared in the half-shuttered windows that looked down into
the court; and at last I decided to try the gardens of the Generalife,
which I had been told commanded the second _patio_.

Once, said legend, a prince had been secluded by his father in those
gardens and those towers, lest he see the face of a woman, and learn
sorrow through love; nevertheless, he had found out the great secret, and
had had news of the most beautiful lady in the world. I hoped, as I walked
along the avenue of cypresses, that I might be as fortunate; and in the
gardens all things spoke of love. There, under the giant cypress, the
handsome Abencerrage had come to keep the tryst which cost his head, and
thirty-five others as noble. There, at the top of that shaded flight of
stone steps, whose balustrades were jewelled with running water, Prince
Ahmed had sat to play his lute. From that arcaded balcony Zorayda had
looked when love was young, and Boabdil still the lover. In the mirrors of
the water-_patio_ Galiana had bent to her own image and asked, "Am I
worthy to be loved?"

Out of the tangle of red and white roses, bunched in with golden oranges
and scented blooms mingling together in one huge bouquet, I looked to find
my love. It was true, I could see clearly now into the cypress _patio_;
and suddenly a white figure came out from a window upon the gallery. The
glass at my eye, I thought I recognized Monica's slender girlishness; but
a moment later a larger form appeared. The two women stood together
looking up, Lady Vale-Avon pointing towards the towers of the Alhambra or
the Generalife.

Was it possible she saw me? Yet no, she could not without glasses. But if
Monica had indeed been told where I would be at a certain time, could she
not have contrived some means to elude her mother and come to the balcony
alone?

Long after the two vanished I lingered; waited until sunset; waited until
the sky was flooded with rose and gold, and towers and hills were purple
in a violet mist. But Monica did not come again.

If she had not been given the message, what guarantee had I that she would
receive the other far more important