them or wet his face. The floor was covered with large handsome rugs,
and around the sides of the room were luxurious divans: little
other furniture seems necessary in a Turkish house. We followed our
hostesses' example and seated ourselves on the divans, though not, as
they did, with our feet under us, and refreshments were served on a
large gilt salver, in the middle of which was a handsome covered dish
of Bohemian glass filled with sweetmeats, with vases on each side to
match, one holding queer-shaped little spoons with golden bowls. There
were also four glasses of water and four minute glasses of pale yellow
cordial. Fortunately, the tray was passed first to Madame L----; so
I watched her movements and learned what to do. She took a spoon from
one vase, dipped it in the sweetmeats, and after eating placed her
spoon in the empty vase. Then she took some water and drank a glass of
cordial. So we each did (it is polite to taste but once), and placed
the soiled spoon in the vase for that purpose. I did not need to
be told that the sweetmeats were rose-leaves, for the flavor was
perfectly preserved.

Madame L---- kindly repeated most of the conversation, which, on their
sides, was chiefly composed of questions concerning Madame L----'s
family: Was her husband as kind as ever? had he made her any presents
lately? Was I married? what was my husband's personal appearance?
did I love him? how old was I? where from? and where going? These and
similar questions, which are considered perfectly polite and proper,
they ask with the curiosity of children.

[Illustration: HAREM SCENE.]

Then we were invited into a third room, where we were served with
violet sherbet, cake and Turkish paste. After partaking of these the