Notwithstanding the semi-jocular manner which my aunt had preserved throughout this lecture, I could easily perceive that she was seriously alarmed on my behalf. I therefore abandoned my jesting tone, assuring her that neither my imagination nor my heart were in the smallest danger with Mademoiselle Kondje-Gul Murrah, and that "no change whatever would be made in our present relations." This jesuitical reply appeared to satisfy her. "In that case," she continued, "I may set to work to get her married?" "Get her married?" I exclaimed in astonishment. "Certainly. Did I not tell you, before I began questioning you, that I had an important commission to discharge? My young cousin Kiusko adores her, he has begged me to see Madame Murrah on his behalf, and I expect to call on her this very day, to set this important business in train." Although I might have long ago foreseen the consequences of emancipating Kondje-Gul from her harem life, and the conflict which it would involve me in with our social customs, I must admit that this revelation of my aunt's intentions caused me no small anxiety. Kondje's remarkable beauty created too much sensation in the world for me to hope that rivals would not turn up in large numbers, against whom I should have to defend myself. Her personal independence, the wealth which her mother's establishment indicated, and her youth, all seemed to leave the field open to sanguine hopes, and to attempts to win her hand, to the open acknowledgment of which no obstacle appeared. Nevertheless, well prepared as I was for such attempts, and fully expecting to witness them, I was very much affected by the news that Kiusko was my rival. It was impossible for me to doubt that his determination to marry Kondje-Gul was the result of reflection as well as of love, and that it would be only strengthened by any obstacle. Of a calm and energetic nature, endowed with an iron will, and accustomed to see everything submit to his law, he had also preserved that freshness of the affections which would be intensified by the impulses of a first love. All the same, and notwithstanding my friendship for him, I certainly could not think of explaining to him the strange situation in which he had in his ignorance placed himself. To proclaim Kondje-Gul to be my mistress would be to banish her from the society into which she had won her way: it would have wounded her spirit to the quick and determined her degradation, without reason or advantage either for Kiusko or for myself. Moreover, did I not owe a stricter fidelity to her than to this friend of yesterday?