“Every woman does, and perhaps I am quicker than most. You see I could tell from your eyes that, although you were trying to be very businesslike, you were really feeling even shyer than I was, so I knew it was all right.” “Thank you, Shahzadi. You give us good characters in fact.” “Quite good. All of you, though Forsyth was really too clever at doing my hair for a little thing that hasn’t grown up.” “He has several sisters.” “Sisters!” said Aryenis scornfully. “I wouldn’t like Stephnos to do my hair. He’d pull it out by the roots. But I wouldn’t mind Forsyth doing it every day. Sisters! Other people’s, perhaps!” “That’s just what I said, and then he got quite annoyed.” “Which shows that he hasn’t grown up too much yet.” I came to the conclusion that Aryenis was not a bad judge of character. She is certainly amazingly observant. After about two hours we overtook and passed the baggage horses, and I think Payindah got the shock of his life when I rode past him complete in mail and steel cap. Temra appeared surprised, but also, I fancied, pleased, and greeted me in the same words that the escort had used, apparently a set phrase for such an occasion. Presently, up a low hill in front, I saw a long white blur--a largish town--and Aryenis, with her eyes gleaming, pointed it out. “Miletis, Harilek. In another hour or so we shall be home.” She whispered the last word to herself again. We rode up the hillside among the fields and fruit trees and the scattered villages, and every now and then women and children and men at the roadside would wave to Aryenis with cries of joy. “Look, there are people riding down the road,” she said, as we came round a bend under the mulberries. “I believe--yes, it is--it’s Ziné come to meet me.” She put her mare into a canter and then into a gallop, and went off like an arrow. Coming down toward us was a little group of people on horseback. There was a girl in front riding with a tall man on a big roan--big, that is, as the Sakae horses go. Behind them were other mounted men, grooms, and archers. The girl had evidently recognized Aryenis about the same time, and swept down on her. The two pulled up as they met, and as we reached them they were off their horses--which we caught just in time--laughing and crying in each other’s arms. The tall man dismounted, and flung his reins to one of his escort. Then, holding out both hands to Aryenis, he drew her to him when he had disentangled her from the other girl, and kissed her on the forehead. All three were talking rapidly and excitedly in their own language. I stood holding my pony’s reins in the background, and I think none of them thought of me for a couple of minutes at least. Then the elderly man noticed me, and said something to Aryenis, who turned round and called me. Speaking in Greek, she introduced him to me as her uncle, Kyrlos’s brother, Milos.