“We will look at your rooms, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh, and they mounted the stairs leading to the verandah. The “apartments” were three in number, and comprised a bedroom and sitting-room for Cecil, and a bedroom for Um Yusuf, opening out of her mistress’s. Another staircase led from the verandah to the roof, which was flat and surrounded by a parapet, with several orange-trees in great pots to give shade in hot weather.
“But you won’t be able to stay up here when it is really hot, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh, “except just at night. You will have to spend the day in the cellars. We do it ourselves—every one does in Baghdad—and it’s not often that the thermometer is more than 88° down there.”
They descended from the roof and entered the rooms. The bedroom furniture was evidently a “complete suite,” of the most highly-polished mahogany, imported from Europe at some trouble and expense. The things in the sitting-room were of the same style, but one or two chairs seemed not to have survived the journey, for their places were filled by a common Windsor arm-chair, and a very ornate Louis XV. fauteuil, with gilded and twisted legs. On a side-table was a gorgeous gilt clock, which did not go, and the walls were decorated with fearful oleographs, and one or two theatrical portraits, which the guide pointed out with great pride.
“Well, Cecil, my dear,” said Lady Haigh, sitting down in the gilt chair, while the two servants retired into the verandah. “I think you will be very comfortable here. I see that they have forgotten one or two things, but I will send you those from the Residency. I am very glad that you have Basmeh Kalfa to superintend your little household. She was head kalfa (which means an upper slave) to Azim Bey’s mother, so she will look after you well. You will have to be careful just at first, until you get into the ways of the place. Be sure if you ever come to the Residency in European dress to put on that sheet over it. It will pass muster in the streets. And do mind never to go outside your own courtyard without the sheet on. This place is your castle, you know, and not even the Pasha dare put his nose in without your consent. If you should hear rather a commotion at the gate, and Masûd comes striding along, shouting Dastûr! Dastûr! at the top of his voice, pull your veil over your face at once. Dastûr means “custom,” and is the warning that a man is coming. It will probably be the Pasha coming to see how the Bey is getting on with his lessons, or some old man who comes to teach him the Koran, but be sure you remember. And, my dearest child, you must never go anywhere without Um Yusuf. She must be always with you—in lesson-time, recreation, coming to us, everything. You must never be impatient, and think she is spying upon you. It is her duty to keep you always in sight, and she knows it. And now I must be going. Basmeh Kalfa, I leave Mademoiselle Antaza and her nurse in your charge. Take care of them.”
“Upon my head be it, O my lady,” responded Basmeh Kalfa, impassively.
CHAPTER VIII.
A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE.
Lady Haigh was gone, and Cecil felt very desolate. Everything seemed so new and strange, and she was so far removed from every familiar face, except the severe and respectable one of Um Yusuf, that she felt almost inclined to sit down and mourn over her isolation, but she had too much to do. With Um Yusuf’s help she set to work to unpack her possessions, and speedily found that the proceeding was an object of interest to the other denizens of the courtyard. Basmeh Kalfa took a seat on the floor uninvited, and made remarks on the things as they were lifted out; and Ayesha, Azim Bey’s nurse, who was also a privileged person, came across from the building opposite, and posted herself in an advantageous position. Hovering on the verandah were several black women, the under-servants of the establishment, who had forsaken their work and come to see the show; and Masûd himself was hard put to it to restrain his curiosity sufficiently to keep his post at the gate. None of the interested watchers offered to help in any way, but all commented audibly on the strange things they saw, and especially on the books and photographs. They were particularly amazed and delighted by the transformation effected in the sitting-room with the help of a hammer and nails, some folding bookshelves, a bracket or two, and some extra pictures, and it began to look quite habitable to Cecil herself. There were still two or three large cases containing the books and school-appliances which had been ordered for Azim Bey to be unpacked, and she went with Um Yusuf, attended by her admiring train, to see whether there was any place for their contents in the room pointed out by Basmeh Kalfa as the Bey’s “study.” Here there was a raised dais, occupying about half the floor, and covered with a rich Kurdish carpet, the lower part of the room being matted. On the dais was the divan, covered with thick silk, and amply furnished with cushions of various sizes. There were two or three little inlaid octagonal tables scattered about, but no other furniture, and the walls were decorated with arabesque designs and inscriptions from the Koran. To desecrate such a room with prosaic blackboards and raised maps could not be thought of, and Cecil decided to wait to unpack them until she could consult her pupil as to their arrangement.
Azim Bey was absent with his father on an expedition to visit his married sister at Hillah, the ancient Babylon, and Cecil did not see him at all that day, so that she and Um Yusuf had tea together in solitary state. She spent the evening in writing home, describing her new abode fully for the benefit of her brothers and sisters, and went to bed early; for although candles were provided, no light was visible in any of the surrounding buildings, and silence reigned over the Palace. It seemed very lonely and unsafe, in a strange house, to sleep in a room with open windows and doors that would not lock; and Um Yusuf dutifully placed her bed against her mistress’s door, so as to be able to repel any attempted invasion, but none came.
The next day Cecil awoke early. It was a fine cool morning, and the sun was shining brightly, tempting her out of doors. As soon as she was dressed she went down into the garden, followed by Um Yusuf, to be greeted by a squeal of delight from her pupil, who rushed to meet her and presented her with a large and formal bouquet. He had evidently been tormenting the gardener with questions as to the why and wherefore of things, for Cecil fancied that she saw an expression of relief on that functionary’s face as he withdrew discreetly and precipitately when he saw the veiled figures. Azim Bey walked solemnly beside his governess for a little way, pointing out the beauties of the garden, then, with a side-glance up at her face, he stole a little brown hand into hers and remarked—
“You are my mademoiselle, and I know I shall like you. I have had no one kind to talk to for a whole year, ever since my sister Naimeh Khanum was married to Said Bey and went to live at Hillah, except my father, and he is always busy. But you are going to stay here, and you will tell me everything I want to know. Denarien Bey has told me that you have many brothers, and you will tell me about them, won’t you? When shall we begin lessons, mademoiselle?”