"No, Mr. Lion, no bride, but a love-offering the articles certainly
are."

"Only an amorous intrigue, then?" asked the merchant, shrugging his
shoulders. "You are beginning early with such things, Mohammed. Yet
I am glad you are not about to affiance yourself, as is customary
here at your age, with a girl ten years old, whose eyes please you,
or who has a good dower; ten years later, after she has been long-
veiled, and you no longer know how she looks, you marry her and take
a wife to your home, whom to be sure you have often seen and often
spoken to, but of whose present looks you know nothing."

"If we do not like her, we send her back to her mother. There is
nothing that binds us to keep the woman we do not like, and our
prophet has arranged this very wisely--while you Christians must
keep the woman, though you sometimes find yourselves very badly
deceived. Praise to Allah, and thanks to the prophet!"

"Then it is an amorous intrigue? Well, I will not demand the reason,
for the young gentleman certainly knows the first law of love--
discretion," observed the merchant, with a smile.

"I have no use for that law," said Mohammed, proudly. "You shall
know. This love-offering is for my mother. She is the only woman I
love, and she will also be the only one I shall ever love. Give me a
beautiful dress, richly embroidered, and a veil adorned with golden
fringe. She shall go no more to the mosque so poorly dressed. She
shall be magnificently arrayed, that she may be envied by all other
women. Give me something very handsome."