xpress my
resolution to fulfil the wishes of my second father, begging her to
dispose of my services in every way as those of a protector and friend
ready to respond to every appeal. Four days afterwards, I received from
her a most cordial and elegantly-worded letter. She assured me of her
confidence in all the good accounts which my uncle had given of me; and
she gave me news of my _fiancee_, "who for one who is still only a
child, promises already to develop into an accomplished woman."

Having discharged these conventional duties, I shut myself up in my
retreat, and set to work.

For me to say that my retirement was not more distracted than I would
have desired, might perhaps be called a dangerous assertion; but what
could I do? Was it not my duty to acquaint myself with all that my uncle
bequeathed to me? And the Lord knows what marvels my chateau of Ferouzat
contained! Every day I made some fresh discovery in rooms full of
curious furniture and antiquities of all ages and of all countries.
Barbassou-Pasha was a born buyer of valuable objects, and the furniture
was crammed with rich draperies, hangings, costumes, and objects of art
or curios: my steward himself could not enumerate them all.

But the most delightful of all these marvels is certainly
Kasre-el-Nouzha, my neighbouring property. Kasre-el-Nouzha was a
Turkish fancy of my uncle's. These three Arabic words correspond to the
Spanish Buen-Retiro; or, literally translated, they signify "Castle of
Pleasures." This was the retreat, separated only by a party-wall from
Ferouzat, that was formerly inhabited by the exiled minister who had
fled from the persecutions of the Sultan. Picture to yourself, hidden in
a great park whose umbrageous foliage concealed it from view, a
delightful palace of the purest Oriental architecture, surrounded by
gardens, with flowering shrubs covered with a wealth of blossoms,
standing in the midst of green lawns, a sort of Vale of Tempe
transplanted, one might imagine, from the East. My uncle Barbassou,
conscientious architect that he was, had copied the plan from one of the
residences of the King of Kashmir. In the interior of the Kasre you
might fancy yourself in the house of some grandee of Stamboul or of
Bagdad. Luxuries, ornaments, furniture, and general domestic
arrangements, have all been studied with the taste of an artist and the
exactitude of an archaeologist. At the same time European comforts are
gratefully mingled with T