every year I sat peacefully at my spinning-wheel and carried on my own
business.

"Once during dog-days--Takusch was at that time fifteen years old and
beginning her sixteenth year--toward evening, according to an old
custom, we spread a carpet in the garden and placed a little table there
for tea. Near us steamed and hissed the clean shining tea-urn, and
around us roses and pinks shed their sweet odors. It was a beautiful
evening, and it became more beautiful when the full moon rose in the
heavens like a golden platter. I remember that evening as clearly as
though it were yesterday. Takusch poured out the tea, and Auntie Mairam,
Sarkis's wife, took a cup; but as she lifted it to her lips it fell out
of her hand and the tea was spilled over her dress.

"My spirits fell when I saw this, for my heart told me that it meant
something bad was coming. 'Keep away, evil; come, good,' I whispered,
and crossed myself in silence. I glanced at Takusch and saw that the
poor child had changed color. Then her innocent soul also felt that
something evil was near! Sarkis and Mairam, however, remained in merry
mood and thought of nothing of that sort. But if you believe not a
thousand times that something is to come, it comes just the same!
Mairam took her napkin and wiped off her dress and Takusch poured her a
fresh cup. 'There will come a guest with a sweet tongue,' said Sarkis,
smiling. 'Mairam, go and put another dress on. You will certainly be
ashamed if anyone comes.'

"'Who can come to-day, so late?' said Mairam, smiling; 'and, beside, the
dress will dry quickly.'

"Scarcely had she spoken when the garden door opened with a rush and a