“Mademoiselle, we in the plains again, not at Sulaminyeh. That storm not rain at all, dust-storm. I think this place Mosul. When dust fall about in the night, I think it only stuff off walls, but now I look, see it all thick on everything. You see this?”
Cecil sat up, and gazed in bewilderment at the handful of dust and sand which Um Yusuf had gathered up as a precious treasure. Then she recognised the maid’s allusion to the dust-storms peculiar to the Euphrates Valley, and conceived for the handful of dust an affection akin to that which Noah must have felt for the olive-leaf brought him by the dove. The fact that everything in the room was covered with gritty sand, and that it had made its way into her hair and clothes, was not worthy of notice in view of this discovery, and she and Um Yusuf made a rather difficult toilet with thankful hearts. They breakfasted on the remains of their last night’s supper, which had fortunately been covered up and had thus escaped the dust, and immediately afterwards the unattractive negress who had been their guide the night before unlocked the door and came in with a great bundle in her arms.
“It is commanded thee to put on these clothes, O my mistress,” she said in Arabic, dumping down the bundle before Cecil, and retiring forthwith.
Much mystified, Cecil helped Um Yusuf to undo the bundle, and drew out of it one of the long loose gowns with square-cut neck and wide hanging sleeves, worn by Turkish ladies of the old school. It was of blue silk interwoven with silver threads, and to wear with it there was a vest or chemisette of delicate straw-coloured gauze, and a round velvet cap decorated with silver coins. The two women gazed at one another in astonishment as they unfolded the garments and smoothed them out.
“What does it mean, Um Yusuf?” asked Cecil, almost in a whisper.
“It look to me like wedding-dress, mademoiselle,” responded Um Yusuf, in the same awed tones. “Perhaps you going to be married.”
“That is absurd, Um Yusuf,” said Cecil, with unusual sharpness. “But I won’t put it on, at any rate.”
Presently the negress returned, and after a glance of surprise at the neglected finery, informed Cecil that the great ladies commanded her attendance.
“What ladies?” asked Cecil.
To her amazement the woman replied—