The Arab woman was stung by the rebuke, but assuming the meekest expression of face she changed her course entirely.
"Master, I beg of you to listen to me until I have done," she said, and then she began to talk of the visits of the white lady.
The lady was young and beautiful. Evil minds were many. If she were to come to Ishmael's house every day and to be closeted alone with him, what would people say?
"Forgive me, O Master; it is nothing to me, and I have no right to speak," said the Arab woman, with the agony of a jealous spirit imprinted on every feature of her face. "I only wish to put you on your guard against the slanderous tongues that would love to injure you."
Ishmael listened to her with the look of a man who had never once reflected on the interpretation that might be put upon his conduct, and then he said—
"You are right, O Zenoba, and I thank you for reminding me of something I had permitted myself to forget."
When the white lady came next day, Ishmael began to speak to her about her position in his house.
"My sister," he said, "I have been thinking this is not good. The thoughts of the world are evil, and if you continue to come here according to the agreement we made together your pure name will be tarnished."
The lady's brows contracted slightly, for it flashed upon her that Ishmael was about to send her away. But that was not his intention, and in the winding way of Eastern explanations he proceeded to propound his plan.
"When the Prophet (to him be prayer and peace) lost his first wife, Khadija, the mother of Islam, and took a second wife, it was a widow, well stricken in years and without wealth or beauty. Why did the Prophet marry her? That he might care for her and protect her and shield her from every ill."