medan, and wore no
jewels save a rope of pearls; and her steady, wonderful blue eyes,
which were just twin heavens of happiness, shone with delight as she
looked up at the old woman who had known her as a girl, with her hair
hanging in two great plaits.

She put both hands to her forehead and spread them out in the beautiful
Eastern gesture of welcome, then bowed to her knees, as she passed.

Then, turning, she pulled her yashmak a little to one side. "_Petite
Maman_!" she cried. "Welcome, _Petite Maman_!" and blew her a kiss
from the tips of her rosy fingers.

Arrived at the entrance, the armed escort made a circle round her with
drawn knives; her camel knelt; a Persian carpet was laid across the
_quasi_-clean stones; then Mustapha the Ethiopian made a sign, upon
which Ameena, the little hunchback woman who loved her mistress more
than her life and who had been transported with joy when she had laid
the first-born, the son, in the mother's arms, came running swiftly.

Mustapha and Ameena lived one long life of secret feud; they fought
like cat and dog as to who could do the most in their mistress's
service; they stood shoulder to shoulder and fought everybody else in
the same good cause; and the huge man scowled fiercely as the deformed
little woman arranged the flowing robes and walked up the Persian
carpet behind the wife of the great Sheikh.

"Well, I never!" was Hobson's comment as she peeked from behind a door.
"Her grace must have made a mistake. You take that downstairs," she
added, coming boldly out onto the landing to intercept the slave with
the monkey. "Downstairs," and she pointed down to the entrance,
surging with people, "unless you want the place to be full of feathers
and fur!"

Jill stood in the doorway; looked across at her godmother, and made the
beautiful gesture of salutation, then removed her veil, picked up her
robes and ran across the room right into the outstretched arms.

Tears were very close as they laughed and held each other by the hand,
but the laughter died away altogether as they sat in the falling
shadows, the younger one with her head on the older one's lap.

Two wise women, they were fighting for the happiness of the young, as
the shadows fell and the stars came out and faded before the light of
the moon as she trailed her silver garments across the heavens.

Jill had risen once to her feet, in a moment of anger, and had gone out
onto the balcony and stood looking down,