"I am dying, sir. I have been dying for the last two days look at my
lips."

"They are red and fresh, and show that you are in health, Sitta
Khadra."

"Yea, my lips are red, because I have colored them with henna, that
Mohammed may not see how pale they are. For him I have colored my
cheeks, too. Good sir, one may deceive out of love, and Allah will
forgive me for having made my face a lie out of love for my son. I
tell you I am dying; therefore have I come to bring you the goods,
and to beg you to take the money and keep it. When he is in want
give it to him, and tell him Mother Khadra sends it with her best
blessing, and that he must accept it as a present from me, and make
a good use of it. I know, sir, that you will give it to him, and
that you will watch over him that you may know when he needs it.

"And one thing more I beg of you, whenever you see my beloved son,
say to him: --Mohammed Ali, your mother Khadra, loved you very
dearly, and sends you a greeting from Heaven, through me. She
dwells, above with your father, Ibrahim Aga, and both are looking
down upon you, and observing your actions. Therefore be thoughtful,
Mohammed, to walk pure and free in the sight of Allah and your
parents. Promise me, that you will often say this to my son."

"I promise, Sitta Khadra," said the merchant, solemnly. "I promise
you that I will watch over your dear son, and that, if it is in my
power, I will at all times be ready to lend him a helping hand. I
give you my hand to seal this promise, Sitta Khadra."