a Dey of Algiers to any
consul's wife."

"No matter," returned the Sultana; "you have a high regard for Colonel
Langley, and have often paid him unusual compliments,--why not
compliment his wife?"

"Well, it shall be done. To-morrow afternoon prepare to receive her."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

MRS. LANGLEY AND AGNES GO OUT TO DINNER.

An agreeable surprise is something like sunshine in November; it warms
up the constitution, mentally and physically.

Such a surprise did Mrs Langley receive the morning that followed the
evening on which Achmet Dey and his Sultana held their private
conversation on the affairs of state. "Agnes!" she exclaimed, reading a
note with elevated eyebrows, "just fancy! here is an invitation for you
and me to dine with the Dey's wife or wives!"

"Oh! _won't_ that be delightful?" cried Agnes, coming from the court
into the room where her mother sat, with such a bound, that she filled
with sympathetic excitement the heart of the small negro girl from
beyond the Zahara, and caused her to rock the cradle too violently.

"There, you've bumped it again; I knew you would!" said Mrs Langley, in
tones of despair.

Poor Zubby's first awful glance of mingled deprecation and self-reproach
was so touching that no one but a hardened monster could have withstood
it; but the look, with the feelings which it implied, was short-lived.
It passed like a summer cloud, and was replaced by an expression of
supreme contentment and self-satisfaction when it became apparent that
Master Jim was _not_ going to awake, and that Mrs Langley's despair was
vanishing. Indeed, that lady's despair was at all times remarkably
short-lived. She had been trained in a school of dire adversity ever
since the arrival of the coal-black one from beyond the Zahara, and had
learned to hope against hope in an extraordinary degree in a case which
was absolutely hopeless, for, whatever others might think or hope, Zubby
knew herself to be incurable! Not that she was unwilling; on the
contrary, there never was a more obliging or amiable creature among the
sable daughters of Ham, but she had a tendency to forget herself, (as
well as her charge), in moments of sudden emotion or delight, and gave
way to burstlets of action, which, if slight, were always inopportune,
and sometimes, though not often, disastrous.

"We must get ready immediately," continued Mrs Langley, with a
cautioning shake of the head at Zubby, as she turned to Agnes; "be