sweetmeats and confectionery were passed with coffee, and our visit
ended. A European woman could not support such a life--at home perfect
inactivity, eating, smoking, gossiping, an occasional visit to or
from a friend, a trip to the bazaar, and a drive--if they possess a
carriage--or a row in a caïque to the Sweet Waters on Sunday. This is
the life of a Turkish woman of rank.

A note from Madame B---- one morning informed me that the mother and
wives of a rich Turkish merchant were coming to visit her, and invited
me to be present. I reached her house about eleven, but the Turkish
ladies were before me. The appearance of a servant in the hall with
her arms full of yashmaks and ferrajas and several pairs of pattens
apprised me that I was too late to see their street-dresses. In the
reception-room were Madame B----, a lady who acted as interpreter, and
the three Turkish ladies. They were uncontaminated by European customs
or Paris finery. The mother was exceedingly ugly, as are most Turkish
women over forty. A pair of high red morocco boots encased her feet,
which were guiltless of stockings. White, full trousers were gathered
close at the knee and fell over nearly to her ankles. Her dress was
a short purple velvet skirt embroidered round the bottom and up the
front with gilt braid in a showy vine pattern; the same embroidery on
her black silk jacket, which was open in front, but without any lace;
and around her neck was a magnificent string of pearls. Her hair (what
there was of it) was drawn back from her face, braided, and the end of
the little "pig tail" fastened to her head with a diamond pin composed
of four fine diamonds in a clumsy gold setting. Long, pale amber
ear-drops completed her adornments, and she flourished--yes, she
really did--a large red and yellow bandana! The younger of the two
wives was quite pretty. She had brilliant black eyes, good features,
and was very attractive in her gay dress. She wore pink slippers, a