in interposed, while Paul and I
endeavored to avoid each other's eyes, lest we should be overtaken by an
explosion of laughter.

"It is '_Is_lam,' not 'is _lamb_,' aunt Chrysophrasia," said Macaulay,
mildly.

"I don't see much difference," retorted Miss Dabstreak, "except that you
say it _is_ lamb, and I say it is _lamb_. Oh! you mean it is one
word,--yes; I dare say," she added quickly, in some confusion. "Of
course, I don't speak Turkish."

"It is Arabic," observed the implacable Macaulay.

"John," said Chrysophrasia, ignoring the correction with a fine
indifference, "we must see everything at once. When shall we begin?"

The question effectually turned the conversation, for all the party were
anxious to see what Macaulay was equally anxious to show, having himself
only seen each sight once. The remainder of the time while we sat at
table was occupied in discussing the various expeditions which the party
must undertake in order to see the city and its surroundings
systematically. After dinner John and I remained behind for a while.
Paul wanted to talk to Hermione, and Macaulay, who was the most domestic
of young men, preferred the society of his mother and aunts, whom he had
not seen for several months, to the smell of cigars and Turkish coffee.

"What do you think of her?" asked John Carvel when we were alone. "She
seems perfectly sane, does she not?"

"Perfectly. What proves it best is the way she treats Paul. She is very
affectionate. I suppose there is no fear of a relapse?"

"I hope not, I hope not!" repeated John fervently. "She has behaved
admirably during the journey. Now, about Paul," he continued, lowering
his voice a little: "how does he strike you since you have known him
better? You have seen him every day for some time. What sort of a fellow
is he?"

"I think he is very much in earnest," I answered.

"Yes, yes,--no doubt. But you know what I mean, Griggs: is he the kind
of man to whom I can give my daughter? That is what I am thinking of. I
know that he works hard and will succeed, and all that."

"I can tell you what I think," said I, "but you must form your own
judgment as well. I like Paul very much, but you must like him too,
before you decide. In my opinion he is a man of fine character,
scrupulously honest, and not at all capricious. I cannot say more."

"A little wild when he was younger?" suggested John.

"Not very, I am sure. He was unhappy in his childhood; he was one of
those b