n. The girl brought up to be a
Mohammedan prayed to Allah. And the prayers of both, ascending from
different altars, like smoke of incense in a Christian church and in a
mosque, rose toward the same heaven. Yet no help came; and the summer
days slipped by, until at last it was September, the month fixed for the
wedding.

With the subtlety and soft cowardice of Mussulman women, young or old,
Ourieda said no word to her father of her loathing for Tahar. When Sanda
begged her to tell him at least so much of the truth and trust to his
love, the girl replied always dully and hopelessly in the same way: it
would be useless. He was very fond of her, for her dead mother's sake
and her own. But the fire of youth had died down in his heart. He had
forgotten how he felt when love was the greatest thing on earth.
Besides, his own wife had been the exception to all womanhood, in his
eyes. The child she had left had been his dear plaything, his
consolation. Now he counted upon her to fulfil the ambitions of his
life, thwarted so far, because she had been a daughter. To have his
nephew, his heir by law, become the father of his grandsons, was his
best hope now, and nothing except Ourieda's death or Tahar's death would
make him give it up.

"My dear nurse Embarka would kill Tahar for me if she could get at him,"
the "Little Rose" said one day, calmly. "That would end my trouble, but
she cannot reach him, and there is no one she can trust among those who
cook or serve food in the men's part of our house."

Sanda was struck with horror, but Ourieda could not at first even
understand why she was shocked. "If a viper were ready to strike you or
one you loved, would you think harm of killing it?" she asked. "Tahar is
venomous as a viper. I should give thanks to Allah if he were dead, no
matter how he died. But since Allah does not will his death, I must pray
for courage to die myself rather than be false to Manoeel, who has
perhaps himself gone to Paradise, since he does not answer when I call;
and if a woman can have a soul, I may belong to him there."

Sanda had forgiven her, realizing if not understanding fully the
difference between a heart of the East and a heart of the West, and
loving the Arab girl with unabated love. Up to the hour when Ben Raana
came into the garden of the harem and bade his daughter praise Allah
because her wedding day was at hand, Sanda hoped, and begged Ourieda to
hope, that "something might happen." But eve