"You must n't call me that!" she said, looking shocked.
"Why not?" I asked.
"You must say, 'my Imperial Consort," she replied, taking a seat upon a divan.
"Oh, no. Mrs. Mudjahoy is a pet name," I explained. She was pacified, and I proceeded: "I have called you, Mrs. Mudjahoy, to be present at the beginning of a Great Reform. I am about to make our life simpler, more enjoyable, and less burdensome in every way."
"Do you find it burdensome so soon?" she asked reproachfully, turning away her lovely head and trying to coax out a sob.
"'WHAT DOES THE CELESTIAL ORB REQUIRE?'" SAID THE GRAND VIZIR."
I saw I had made a mistake. "Not at all," I answered hurriedly; "but—here comes the Grand Vizir; you listen attentively, and you will soon understand it all."
The Grand Vizir entered. He seemed ill at ease, and I saw that he had a simitar under his caftan.
"What does the Celestial Orb require of the humblest of his slaves?" said the Grand Vizir, prostrating himself.
"Oh, get up!" I said wearily. Then I asked the Master of Ceremonies to explain how the interview was to be conducted. So while Dorema and I exchanged a few tender nothings about the weather, the Master of Ceremonies explained to the Grand Vizir the nature of the conversation I had held with him that morn-
