way.

There was the usual speech of greeting and congratulation on the part of
the _doyen_ Minister, and presently the crowd of foreign representatives
returned to the ante-room in the most approved style, walking backwards
and stooping low.

My turn came next. As we entered, the Shah was standing almost in the
centre of the room, with the familiar aigrette in his _kolah_ (black
headgear) and his chest a blaze of diamonds. He rested his right hand on
a handsome jewelled sword. He looked pale and somewhat worn, but his
features were decidedly handsome, without being powerful. One could
plainly see depicted on his face an expression of extreme
good-nature--almost too soft and thoughtful a face for a sovereign of an
Eastern country. His thick underlip added a certain amount of obstinate
strength to his features, which was counter-balanced by the dreamy,
far-away look of his eyes heavily shadowed by prominent lids. His thick
black eyebrows and huge moustache were in great contrast to the Shah's
pallid face. His Majesty appeared bored, and was busy masticating a
walnut when we entered, the shell of which lay in _debris_ by the side of
two additional entire walnuts and a nut-cracker on a small jewelled
side-table.

We stood at attention with our hats on while Sir Arthur, who, as we have
seen, is a linguist of great distinction, delivered to the sovereign, a
most charming and graceful speech in Persian with an oriental fluency of
flowery language that nearly took my breath away.

The Shah seemed highly delighted at the nice compliments paid him by our
Minister, and graciously smiled in appreciation. Then Sir Arthur broke
forth in French--which he speaks like a Frenchman--and with astounding
grace proceeded to the presentation. The Shah was curt in his words and
much to the point, and I was greatly delighted at the charming directness
of his remarks. There was no figure of speech, no tawdry metaphor in the
compliment paid me.

I had presented his Majesty with two of my books.

"_Vous ecrivez livres?_" thundered the Shah to me in lame French, as he
stroked his moustache in a nervous manner.

"_Malheureusement pour le public, oui, Majeste_," (Unfortunately for the
public, yes, your Majesty), I replied, touching my hat in military
fashion.

"_Combien de livres avez vous ecrits?_" (How many books have you
written?)

"_Quatre, Majeste._" (Four, your Majesty.)

"_Combien livres avez vous envoye moi?_" (How many books hav