smiling upon the crowd,
composed chiefly of women, who had raised their hands and called down
the blessings of Allah upon her.

The steps were strewn with gifts, ranging from live goats to masses of
sticky sweetmeats and glass beads. Mothers had brought their sickly
babies and laid them down amongst the goats and beads, hoping that if
even the shadow of the blessed woman were to fall upon them they might
be healed.

Mustapha kept guard, hurling abuse at those who tarried, helping their
departure by the aid of his foot. Hobson stood like a grim sentinel
outside the sitting-room door. She had made tea under the greatest
difficulty--the kettle of tepid water had been flung at the salaaming
offender who had brought it--and had taken it in blushing brick-red
when Jill had risen and kissed her on both cheeks. Dinner had been
served, hardly tasted, and been sent away, and a whole tray of cups
full of burnt milk showed the perturbation of the maid's mind as she
waited, and waited for the sound of the little bell which summoned her
to her grace's presence.

"You are a noble-looking woman, my child," said the duchess, as she
keenly scrutinised the fair face with great blue eyes and broad
humourous mouth, which, but for an added serenity and dignity, was so
very like the face of the girl who had been left behind at Ismailiah
over twenty years ago, and who had journeyed into the desert with the
Arabian Sheikh and had married him. "I'm not surprised your husband
adores you. Could he not have come with you? I have always longed to
see him."

It seemed that the Sheikh Hahmed had been invited to Bagdad, to some
conference concerning the big Arabian question, but hoped to be able to
greet her grace before her departure. In the meanwhile his dwellings,
his servants, his horses and everything he was possessed of were hers.

"And he means it, _Petite Maman_; he loves making people happy. I--I
_love_ him." She paused for a moment; then looked straight into the
stern old eyes. "My love for my son is as great as my love for his
father, and I would lay down my life for their happiness."

There was no tenderness in the sad old eyes and no lines of yielding in
the stern old mouth; for although her heart was aching to say yes to
the mother's insistent demands for her son's happiness, her common
sense had turned her into a very rock of resistance.

"I am happy, radiantly happy." Jill, who was sitting on a stool at the
old wom