[Illustration: HAREM SCENE.]

Then we were invited into a third room, where we were served with
violet sherbet, cake and Turkish paste. After partaking of these the
ladies sent for their jewel-boxes and displayed their treasures, which
consisted of pins, earrings, necklaces, head and belt ornaments--some
very handsome, and all composed of precious stones of more or less
value, for a Turkish woman does not value an ornament that is not set
with precious stones. This was an agreeable change from the former
conversation, and when we had admired their jewels breakfast was
served. The servants brought a scarlet rug of soft shaggy stuff, which
was spread on the floor: a low round brass table, two feet high and
three feet in diameter, was placed in the centre of this rug, and we
four ladies seated ourselves around the table _a la Turque_. A servant
brought a brass basin, which was like an immense wash-bowl with a
cullender in it turned upside down: we washed our hands over this,
water being poured over them from a large coffee-pot (I should call
it) with an unusually long nose, and wiped our hands on handsome
towels embroidered at the ends with gold thread. A dish of fried fish
was placed on the table for the first course: each helped herself to
one, laying it on the table before her (we had no plates, knives or
forks), picking it to pieces and eating it with her fingers. When this
was ended the debris was thrown on the platter and removed, the table
wiped off, and a dish of rice and mutton brought: for this we had
spoons, but all ate from the dish. Then came an immense cauliflower
covered thick with strange-tasting cheese, and the Turkish ladies used
their thumbs and first two fingers in conveying it to their mouths.
I am very fond of cauliflower, but this was not inviting. The next
course was onions cooked in oil: I had to be excused from this also:
the sight of their dripping fingers was enough. Then we washed our
hands and ate oranges; washed again, and lighting fresh cigarettes
(they had smoked nearly all day), retired to our divans; sipped coffee
and listened to an old negress (the story-teller of the harem), who,
squatted before us, related marvelous stories in Eastern style. More
sweetmeats and confectionery were passed with coffee, and our visit
ended. A European woman could not support such a life--at home perfect
inactivity, eating, smoking, gossiping, an occasional visit to or
from a friend, a trip to the bazaar, a