etty? I confess I cannot decide. The question of beauty
in her case is so completely put out of mind by a certain charm of
manner, that one forgets to analyse it. She has certainly fine eyes, for
they hold you spell-bound by the soul shining through them. George
Morand, her _fiance_, adores her, and, headstrong _Africain_ though he
is, even he feels an influence within her which subjugates his fiery
spirit. They could not be a better match for each other, and will live
happily together. She will chasten the exuberant ardour of the Provencal
warrior.

My uncle professes to detest "the brats;" it is needless, perhaps, to
add that, directly he arrives, the whole of them rush to him, climb on
his knees, and stay there for the rest of his visit. He is their horse;
he makes boats for them, and all the rest of it. The other day you might
have seen him grumbling as he sewed a button on Toto's drawers (which he
had torn off by turning him head over heels), fearing lest Genevieve
should scold him.

I am very cordially welcomed by the whole house, and you may imagine
what interminable discussions the doctor and I carry on. Having been
formerly a professor in the School of Medicine at Montpellier, he was
led by his researches in physiology to a very pronounced materialism.
Now that he has read my spiritualistic articles, he tries hard to break
down my arguments. On the third side, my uncle, as a Mahometan, wants to
convert him to deism; you may judge from this how much harmony there is
between us; you might take us for an Academy!

At El-Nouzha the same life goes on still; but I must take this
opportunity of correcting a dangerous mistake you appear to have fallen
into, to judge from the tone of your letters. In everything that
concerns my harem, you really speak as if you had in mind the fantastic
and tantalising experiences of a second blessed Saint Anthony, exposed
to the continual provocations of the most voluptuous beauties of the
Court of Satan. Indeed, one might say (between you and me and the post),
that your Holiness was less scared than inquisitive regarding these
terrible scorchings. You old sinner! The real truth is that everything
becomes a habit after a while, and that, now the first effervescence of
passion is over, this life grows much more simple than you imagine. You
must not believe that we lead a riotous existence of continual lusts and
orgies. Such notions, my dear fellow, are only the fruit of ignorance
and