yeux on the Sublime Porte, and make a futurity of cachemeres and rose-water."
"Ah!" exclaimed Lorraine, "the Turks know how to manage you ladies—
'There rolls the sea, and yonder yawns the sack.' "
"Is that your idea of gallantry?" said Mr. Delawarr.
"It is its excess, I grant," interrupted Lorraine; "but I must say, I think the Turk invests his homage to woman with that mystery, that solitude, that setting apart from life's daily and common use, which constitutes so much of poetry. His beautiful Circassian or Georgian mistress is a thing too sacred for common eyes. I quite enter into the feeling which shuns a profane eye resting on the face we love. What a charm must be in the veil our hand only is privileged to raise! His wealth, his taste, are lavished on his haram. He makes the shrine worthy of the idol. Her delicate step falls on the velvet carpet—her sweet mouth inhales an atmosphere of perfume—the chain of pearls, the fragrant attar, the crimson ruby, are heaped on the fair favourite, who wears them only for him. Liberality is an imposing term for indif-
