Hulmar was yet speaking when Ulmene approached our table, and produced from a small basket four small rosettes. Each rosette was of two colors. The red and blue she handed to Anvar Siured, whose countenance I could see light up as soon as he saw himself the destined recipient of this particular rosette. Why, I did not then know, but was soon to learn.
After each of the zerdars at table with us had received a rosette, I also became the recipient of a blue and white. Without knowing why,—for Utis had forgotten to tell me of this custom,—I imitated the others in fastening it to the breast of my tunic. I looked at Utis inquiringly. He only smiled,—an explanation of so universal a custom would have excited natural surprise,—but I gathered from his answering glance that I need merely imitate the others.
They at once rose, and proceeded down the hall as if each in quest of some one. Anvar alone knew whom he sought. He went straight to where Reva was sitting at table with some of the fair cousins to whom I had been presented that morning. I now noticed, for the first time, what Anvar had known since the moment of his arrival, that her colors were red and blue,—blue the border of her tunic, red the ribbon in her hair. When Anvar approached where she sat, and bowed silently before her, the sight gave me an inexpressible pang. It was some slight comfort to observe nothing in her reception of him that indicated any response to what I had seen flash up in the eyes of Anvar on receiving the rosette. She politely acknowledged his salutation, motioned him to an unoccupied seat, and went on quietly with what she had been saying.
