med to
disappointment.

"It would be of no avail," said the Jinnee, "for it hath been written of
old that Jarjarees shall not perish save by the hand of a mortal. And I
am persuaded that thou wilt turn out to be that mortal, since thou art
both strong and fearless, and, moreover, it is also predestined that
Bedeea shall wed one of the sons of men."

"Then," said Horace, feeling that this line of defence must be
abandoned, "I fall back on objection number one. Even if Jarjarees were
obliging enough to retire in my favour, I should still decline to become
the--a--consort of a Jinneeyeh whom I've never seen, and don't love."

"Thou hast heard of her incomparable charms, and verily the ear may love
before the eye."

"It may," admitted Horace, "but neither of _my_ ears is the least in
love at present."

"These reasons are of no value," said Fakrash, "and if thou hast none
better----"

"Well," said Ventimore, "I think I have. You profess to be anxious
to--to requite the trifling service I rendered you, though hitherto,
you'll admit yourself, you haven't made a very brilliant success of it.
But, putting the past aside," he continued, with a sudden dryness in his
throat; "putting the past aside, I ask you to consider what possible
benefit or happiness such a match as this--I'm afraid I'm not so
fortunate as to secure your attention?" he broke off, as he observed the
Jinnee's eyes beginning to film over in the disagreeable manner
characteristic of certain birds.

"Proceed," said Fakrash, unskinning his eyes for a second; "I am
hearkening unto thee."

"It seems to me," stammered Horace, inconsequently enough, "that all
that time inside a bottle--well, you can't call it _experience_ exactly;
and possibly in the interval you've forgotten all you knew about
feminine nature. I think you _must_ have."

"It is not possible that such knowledge should be forgotten," said the
Jinnee, resenting this imputation in quite a human way. "Thy words
appear to me to lack sense. Interpret them, I pray thee."

"Why," explained Horace, "you don't mean to tell me that this young and
lovely relation of yours, a kind of immortal, and--and with the devil's
own pride, would be gratified by your proposal to bestow her hand upon
an insignificant and unsuccessful London architect? She'd turn up that
sharp and polished nose of hers at the mere idea of so unequal a match!"

"An excellent rank is that conferred by wealth," remarked the Jinnee.