ess
the Shereefa of Wazan. She was not called Zuleika, but Emily--her maiden
name had been Keene, and she came not from the rose-bordered bowers of
Bendemeer's stream, nightingale-haunted, but from the prosaic levels of
South London, where her father was governor of a gaol. Truly she was a
vision of gratefulness in that paynim tract--a rich brunette, with
large black eyes, long black ringletted tresses, and a well-filled shape
with goodly bust. Her attire was neat and graceful and not Oriental. She
was clad in a riding-habit of ruby brocaded velvet, with jacket to
match, had a cloud of lace round her throat, and an Alpine hat with
cock's feather poised on her well-set head. She might serve as the model
for a Spanish Ann Chute. Bracelets on her plump wrists and rings on her
taper fingers caught the sunshine as she occasionally twirled her
cutting-whip. Her voice was bell-like and melodious, with the faintest
accent of decision, and her manner, after an opening flush of
embarrassment, was cordial and debonair. The embarrassment was because
of her inability to extend to us the hospitality she desired. She
explained that she had to receive us in the garden as the house was
undergoing repairs. After the customary commonplaces, she freely entered
into conversation, and took opportunity at once to deny that she was a
renegade; she wore European costume, as we saw, and attended the rites
of the English Church, for it was one of the stipulations of the
marriage contract that she should have perfect liberty to follow her own
faith.

"I wish every English girl were as happily married as I," she said, "and
had as loving a husband."

It was gratifying, therefore, to note that she found herself as women
wish to be who love their lords. She had been married on the 27th of
January, and as the Shereef had entered into his present residence but
recently, they were still at sixes and sevens. It was his habit to spend
the winter in the country and the summer in town. She had been but two
years in Morocco, and had not yet mastered Arabic.

"His Highness understands English?" She shook her head, and quickly
interpreting a lifting of my eyelids, she smilingly added, "Spanish was
the medium of our courtship." And then, as we promenaded the garden
path, she became communicative, and dwelt with pardonable expansion on
the virtues of her lord and master, who followed behind side by side
with the portly Yorkshireman. His charity, she said, was