unately changed the current of their emotions.
During the _entr'acte_ their box became the object of attraction to the
subscribers and the frequenters of first night's performances. Their
indolent, oriental type of beauty, notwithstanding the partial disguise
effected by their present costumes, could not fail to produce a
sensation.

Who, it was asked, was this old gentleman with his three daughters of
such surprising beauty? In the Jockey Club's box, where I went to hear
the gossip, everyone was talking about them, as of some important
political event; Mohammed was an American millionaire, according to
some, a Russian prince, or a Rajah just arrived from India, according to
others. When I smiled in a significant manner (as I began to do, on
purpose), they immediately surmised that I fancied I knew more about the
matter than the rest of them, thereupon they surrounded me, and pressed
me with questions.

I had already come to the conclusion that it would be better to calm
their minds, and thus avoid all inconvenient enquiries. I therefore gave
them an account, which after all was not far from the truth, namely,
that Omer-Rashid-Effendi was a rich Turk, "whose acquaintance I had the
honour of making at Damascus, and who had come to stay at Paris with his
family." I thus insured myself against any suspicion of mystery arising
in connection with my visits to the house in the Rue de Monsieur, in the
event of these coming to light by any chance.

Our relations, you will see, were thus defined once for all. This new
life is nothing but a succession of delights to my almees; and I have
really now attained the ideal in the way of harems, through the absence
of that monotony which is the inevitable result of the system of rigid
seclusion. Under the influence of our civilized surroundings, the ideas
of my houris are undergoing a gradual transformation. They have French
lady's maids, and their study of our refinements of fashion has opened
out quite a new world of coquettish charms to them. My "little animals"
have grown into women: this single word will convey to you the whole
delicious significance of this story of mine, the secret of which you
alone in the whole world possess.

As we had decided, Kondje-Gul has been separated from her over-jealous
companions. Hadidje, Zouhra, and Nazli have taken this measure to be a
confirmation of her disgrace, and knowing that she lives in a
sequestered corner of the house, they fancy the