I do not know how old Beebee was at this time, but I think she must have been about twelve, and she appeared to me to get more and more beautiful every day.
Now, never during all my lifetime had I seen Beebee’s father, and I was now over six months old; but one day great preparations were being made at the palace, slaves and servants were running about everywhere, and the lovely saloons were decorated with flowers, and hung round with many coloured lamps. I was not therefore surprised to be told by Beebee that her father was about to pay a visit to his home, previous to accompanying the Shah on a long journey to Europe, and over to England itself.
“Oh, how much I should like to go,” she sighed, “and if I did, you too, my sweet Shireen, should accompany me.”
Then one forenoon the father arrived in great state, with many camels and horses, and even accompanied by several elephants. With him came many other great men and dignitaries of the court, and they feasted for many days together. But all this time my poor little mistress was confined to her apartments.
One day—this was his only visit—Beebee’s father came to see her.
He was indeed a noble-looking man, and splendidly dressed in silken robes of many colours, and a cloak of camel’s hair, from under which peeped out a richly-jewelled sword-hilt. On his head was a gilded turban; on his feet were beautiful sandals.
Beebee ran to meet him, and stood before him with downcast eyes. She was prepared to rush into his arms and be embraced, but he only smiled and coldly took her hand.
Then he sank into an ottoman with graceful ease, whilst she remained standing by his side.
“My daughter grows taller, and she grows beautiful. She has a happy future before her. I have come to say farewell for a time. I have a long journey, and many long voyages before me. Beebee will see me when I return.”
Then she dropped on her knees before him, and clasping her hands as if in prayer, held them up towards him.