The garden of Halleem Effendi was attended by a number of fine
powerful slaves from the White Nile, whose stout frames and
glossy skins were undeniable witnesses of their master's care. A
charmingly pretty slave girl paid us daily visits, with presents
of fruit from her kind master and numerous mistresses, who, with
the usual Turkish compliments as a preliminary message, requested
permission to visit the English lady.
In the cool hour of evening a bevy of ladies approached through
the dark groves of citron trees, so gaily dressed in silks of the
brightest dyes of yellow, blue, and scarlet, that no bouquet of
flowers could have been more gaudy. They were attended by
numerous slaves, and the head servant politely requested me to
withdraw during the interview. Thus turned out of my tent, I was
compelled to patience and solitude beneath a neighbouring date
palm.
The result of the interview with my wife was most satisfactory;
the usual womanish questions had been replied to, and hosts of
compliments exchanged. We were then rich in all kinds of European
trifles that excited their curiosity, and a few little presents
established so great an amount of confidence that they gave the
individual history of each member of the family from childhood,
that would have filled a column of the Times with births, deaths,
and marriages.
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