nd when she died he, in his grief,
swore that she should have the loveliest tomb the world ever beheld,
and for seventeen years he built the Taj Mahal? You know how after
thirty years his son rose up and dethroned him, and kept him a close
prisoner for seven years in the Gem Mosque, where his daughter
Jehanara attended him and would not leave him. When grown very feeble,
he begged to be laid where he could see the Taj Mahal; and, the
request being granted, you know how he died with his face towards
the tomb of the beautiful Persian, "whose palankeen followed all his
campaigns in the days when Empire was still a-winning, whose
children called him father--Arjmand Banu, silent and unseen now for
four-and-thirty years, the wife of his youth."

Such a passionate old story! Such a marvellous love-memorial! Shah
Jehan--Mumtaz-i-Mahal--Grape Garden--Golden Pavilion--Jasmine Tower.
As G.W. Steevens says, there is dizzy-magic in the very names. I am
no more capable of describing it than I would have been capable of
building it; you must see it for yourself. It alone is worth coming to
India to see.

Leaving the Taj Mahal dazed and dizzy with beauty, I was hailed by a
voice that sounded familiar, and turning round I saw--an incongruous
figure in that Arabian Nights garden--our old friend of the _Scotia_,
the Rocking Horse Fly. She had another female with her, and Mr. Brand,
the funny man who asked conundrums. I'm afraid my eyes had asked what
he was doing in this galley, for he hastily said that he had only
arrived in Agra that morning, and found our _Scotia_ acquaintance at
the hotel. I introduced Boggley, and we stood uncomfortably about,
while the Rocking Horse Fly waxed sentimental over our meeting.

"Isn't it odd," she said, "that we should all meet and just part
again?"

I thought it would have been much odder (and how infinitely horrible!)
if we had all met and never parted. As it happened, we weren't allowed
to part with her as soon as we could have wished. She discovered we
were staying at the same hotel, so we had to dine together, and she
talked the Taj all through dinner, spattering it with adjectives,
while Boggley grunted at intervals. It was refreshing to see Mr. Brand
again. He seems to be enjoying India vastly, and had three quite new
stories, though if he didn't laugh so much telling them it would be
easier to see the point. Boggley and he loved each other at once.
After dinner, when the men were smoking, th