her natural ease of movement, were all discernible under the feredjé, or cashmere cloak which draped her from neck to heels like a dalmatica.
That day, in the gallery which opened into the gardens, Amasia was wearing a long silken chemise, which was concealed by the ample chalwar united to a little embroidered vest, and an entari with a silken train slashed on the sleeves, and embroidered with a trimming of oya—a Turkish lace. A girdle of cashmere supported the train, so that it might not impede her steps. A pair of earrings and a ring were her only jewels. Elegant padjoubs of velvet hid the lower part of the leg, and her pretty little feet were encased in gold-embroidered slippers.
Her attendant, Nedjeb, a bright and lively girl and a devoted servant—one might say friend—was at this time with Amasia; laughing, chattering, moving hither and thither, and making the house quite gay by her good-humour and cheerfulness. Nedjeb was a Zingara by descent, not a slave. Slavery is not the less abolished in principle because one occasionally sees some Ethiopians or negroes sold in the open market. A large number of domestics is necessary for a great Turkish family—a number which in Constantinople includes a third of the Mussulman population—these servants are never reduced to a condition of slavery: and it must be confessed that, looking to the fact that each domestic has his special work, there is not much to do individually.
The banker's establishment was conducted somewhat on this principle, but Nedjeb was exclusively attached to Amasia. Having been received quite as a child into the house, she occupied a unique position, and never performed any menial duty. Amasia was reclining upon a divan, covered with rich Persian stuffs, and was gazing out upon the Bay of Odessa.
"Dear mistress," said Nedjeb, seating herself upon a cushion at Amasia's feet, "Seigneur Ahmet has not yet arrived! What is he about, I wonder?"
"He has gone into the city," replied Amasia, "and perhaps he will bring back a letter from his uncle Kéraban."
