with the Spanish waltz, which I danced slowly, with imaginary partners. They clapped their hands, beating time while I sang.
After this I was very tired, and I asked Sit Sâra to let me sleep. She said, "Let us walk out on the terrace. The rain is over; the stars are shining. Let us walk out, O my daughter! and the room shall be made ready." So we strolled on the terrace of the harem with Helweh. There were red watch-fires on the hills around. By looking through the round holes in the parapets we could see people in the streets below us, with servants carrying lanterns before them. Bright stars shone in the deep-purple night sky.
I was led across the court into a square room, and introduced to the fourth and youngest wife of the Governor of Arrabeh. I had not even heard of her before. She was surrounded by her women and attendants, and was sitting on a mattress propped up by pillows and cushions, and partly covered by a silk embroidered lehaff. Her head-dress was adorned with jewels, and roses, and everlasting flowers; and her violet velvet jacket was richly embroidered. Her cheeks were highly rouged, and her eyebrows painted. Her eyelids were newly dressed with kohl and her hands with henna. She lifted a little swaddled figure from under some heavy coverings, and handed it to me. It was her first-born son; he was seven days old, and his father had not yet seen him. The mother had hoped and prepared for the pleasure of placing her boy in his arms that night, but he had not returned to Arrabeh. A week is usually allowed to elapse before a Moslem father sees his new-born child or its mother, and the eighth day is generally kept as a day of rejoicing and congratulation. Professional singing women are hired for the occasion.
Coffee was made for me, and a narghilé prepared; but I did not linger long with the young Moslem mother and her infant son, for the room was so overheated that I could
