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 make, and did not see my friend for a few days.

It was again she who sent for me. I found her flushed and excited. She took me in her arms and kissed me with unwonted tenderness.

"You have not been here for so long, yavroum, and I have news to tell you. Nouri Pasha will give me the little boy. The French woman will be dismissed, and I shall bring him up like an Osmanli boy." "Aren't you going to Paris with me?" I cried. "Oh, no! no! I am going to stay here. Come into the house. Come and see how ready we have made the rooms—ready for the young lion, who will be here soon." We went all over the house. It had been scrubbed and cleaned as if for a bridegroom. Her own rooms had new curtains, new chintz covers, and was beautifully scented. "He will live right here with me—see!" She pointed to a cradle placed beside her bed. Her face flushed. With one hand she touched the cradle timidly, with the other she pressed her heart, as if to keep it from beating too fast. On the boy's arrival, the house was wreathed and decorated. All the flowers of the garden were made into garlands, and festooned outside the house from window to window. The two slaves wore new gowns. Leila received me. "Evvet, evvet, hanoum