time," said Mrs Langley, with an amused smile.

"Oh, plenty of time," cried Fatma, who immediately seized the not
unwilling Agnes by the hand, and ran off with her.

Opposite to Zara sat her sister Hanyfa, who looked pretty and innocent
enough just then, though Mrs Langley was struck by her look of superior
intelligence, and a certain sharpness of glance which might almost have
been styled suspicious.

The consul's lady was about to address her, but was interrupted by the
entrance of several dancing-women, who immediately claimed the undivided
attention of the company.

One of these carried a sort of guitar, another an earthenware drum
covered at one end with parchment, and a third a large tambourine, while
a fourth prepared to dance.

Of the dancing we need say little. It was unworthy of the name. There
was little motion of the feet, and a good deal of waving of a kerchief
held in each hand. The music was still less worthy of note; its chief
feature being noise. Nevertheless, the Moorish ladies, knowing no
better, enjoyed it extremely, and Mrs Langley enjoyed it
sympathetically. These women were professionals, the ladies themselves
taking no part in the dancing.

After this the bride ascended by steps to one of the shelves or stone
recesses, which formed convenient sofas or couches round the walls of
the apartment, and there, seated on cushions, submitted to be arrayed in
bridal apparel. None but a lady's pen could do full justice to her
stupendous toilet. We shall therefore do no more than state that the
ludicrously high head-dress, in particular, was a thing of unimaginable
splendour, and that her ornaments generally were so heavy as to render
her incapable of walking without support.

While this was going on in the chamber of state, a very different, but
not less remarkable, transformation was being wrought in Fatma's own
private apartment, where she and several of her Algerine companions,
assisted by a coal-black slave-girl, named Zooloo, converted innocent
little Agnes into a Moor.

Of course conversation with the heroine of the hour was impossible, but
this mattered, little to Agnes, for she could converse quite powerfully
with her eyes, and her young friends chattered more than enough among
themselves.

Standing over her with a formidable pair of scissors, and grasping her
front hair with her left hand, the coal-black Zooloo said--

"Stand still, you white thing, till I perform my duty."

Of