I was expecting to see the wives or daughters of my host appear according to Mussulman custom, covered up with their triple veils. An exclamation of surprise escaped me when I saw four young persons enter, dressed in beautiful Oriental costumes, their faces unveiled, and all four endowed with such glorious beauty and youthful grace that I was, for the moment, fairly dazzled. I took them for his daughters. Hesitating and bashful, they stopped a few steps from me. In my bewilderment I could not find a word to say to them, until after their father had said something to them, they came up to me, first one, then another, and with shy graces and indescribable charms, each bowed and saluted me with her hand to her forehead, then took my hand and kissed it. I must admit that I completely lost my head. I don't know what I stammered out. I believe I assured them that they and their father would find me, in the absence of my uncle, their respectful and devoted friend; but, as they did not understand a word of French, my speech was lost upon them. However that may have been, after a minute or so they were sitting with their legs crossed on the divan, and all I was anxious about was to prolong my visit as much as possible. Mohammed told me their charming names. These were, Kondje-Gul, Hadidje, Nazli, and Zouhra. He, like a proud father, was not backward in praising their beauty, and I joined in chorus with him, and certainly succeeded in flattering him by my enthusiasm regarding them. Indeed, all four of them were of such striking beauty, and yet so different in type, that you might have thought them grouped together in order to form the most ravishing picture, their large dark eyes, sweet, timid, and languishing like the gazelle's, with that Oriental expression which we do not meet with in these climes; lips which disclosed pearly teeth as they smiled; and complexions which have been preserved by the veil from the sun's rays, and which--according to the ancient simile--appeared really to be made up of lilies and roses. In those rich costumes of silk or of Broussan gauze, with their harmonious colours, revealing the forms of their hips and of their bosoms, they exhibited attitudes and movements of feline lissomness and exotic grace, the voluptuous languor of which can only be realised by those who have seen it in Mussulman women. I imagined myself the hero of an Arabian story, and mad fancies entered my brain.