"Not only so, but I find it very handsome, and I appreciate your

antiquarian passion for rare and choice objects; only there is a want of

life about it. What are those great vases, may I ask, whose enormous

mouths stand empty to receive the dust?"

"Those Mandarins!" said my uncle; "they come from the palace of the

Emperor of China."

"Oh, the men, the men!" exclaimed my aunt with a laugh: "if they were in

Paradise they would forget to contemplate the Eternal! Now, captain, my

lord and spouse, pray tell me of what use to you are beds full of

flowers, if you never rejoice your eyes with the sight of them?"

The luncheon went off charmingly and merrily. As she chatted with us, my

aunt signalled to Francis and gave him her instructions for those

innumerable comforts which a woman only can think of. My uncle, as if by

enchantment, found everything ready to hand; before he had time to ask

for anything to drink, he found his glass filled. We had not been

accustomed to this kind of service. When we left the table my aunt said, "Let us take a turn in the grounds."

She took my arm and we started off. I won't trouble you with a

description of this walk, in the course of which my aunt and I succeeded

in improving our acquaintance. We soon grew to understand each other

thoroughly. With supreme tact, and without apparent design on her part,

she had led me on by discreet questions to give her, before a quarter of

an hour had passed, a complete catalogue from A. to Z. of all my

studies, my tastes, and my pursuits, including of course my youthful

escapades, which made her smile more than once.

In this outpouring I excepted, as you may be sure, the revelations of my

career as a pasha. My uncle walked close to us, but left us to talk

together. One might have thought that he was resuming his marital

duties, interrupted only the evening before, without their course having

been disturbed by any appreciable incident. All at once, we arrived at

the foot-path which leads to the Turkish house.

"Ah! let us go into Kasre-El-Nouzha!" said my aunt.

At this I glanced at my uncle with an air of distress; he, without

wincing in the least, said: "The communicating door is walled up. Kasre-El-Nouzha is let."

"Let!" she exclaimed; "To whom?"

"To an important personage, Mohammed-Azis, a friend of mine from

Constantinople. You do not know him."




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