She was a thorough child of Nature, quite a little
wild thing, and it took me a long time to break her into domestic habits.
She was about seventeen years of age, just the time of life when a girl
requires careful guiding. When she first came to us, she used to say
and do the queerest things. Some of them I really do not think are
suited to ears polite; but here are a few.
One day, when we were sitting at work, she startled me by asking:
"Lady, why don't you put your lip out so?" pouting a very long under-lip.
"Why, O Moon?"
"Look, my lip so large. Why all the men love her so because she pout."
"But, O Moon, my lip is not made like yours; and, besides, I never think
of men."
"But do think, Lady. Look, your pretty lip all sucked under."
I know now how to place my lip, and I always remember her when I sit
at work.
On another occasion, seeing my boxes full of dresses and pretty trinkets,
and noticing that I wore no jewellery, and always dressed in riding-
habits and waterproofs for rough excursions, and looked after the stables
instead of lying on a divan and sucking a narghileh, after the manner of
Eastern women, she exclaimed:
"O Lady, Ya Sitti, my happiness, why do you not wear this lovely dress?"
--a _decolletee_ blue ball-dress, trimmed with tulle and roses. "I hate
the black. When the Beg will come and see his wife so darling, he will
be so jealous and ashamed of himself. I beg of you keep this black till
you are an old woman, and instead be joyful in your happy time.
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