“You like me to be happy, don’t you, Bey? Supposing that there was a very good, nice man whom I liked very much, and who--well, who thought he liked me very much, and that he wanted me to be engaged to him, and there was no reason why we should not be engaged, what then?” “And as to yourself, mademoiselle?” “Oh, supposing of course that I was willing,” said Cecil, hastily; “I said that. It wouldn’t make any difference to you, you know. I should stay with you for the three years more, exactly as I promised, and only go when you didn’t want me any longer. Well, Bey, supposing that all this were to happen, there would be no reason why you should mind, would there? I don’t see how it would affect you at all.” “I should have him killed,” observed Azim Bey, calmly. “Have whom killed?” demanded Cecil, somewhat startled. “That man, mademoiselle,--that wicked, wretched man! I would give all I had to get him killed.” “Nonsense, Bey! We are not in the ‘Arabian Nights’ now.” “No, mademoiselle, but we are in Baghdad.” “I shouldn’t have thought you were so silly, Bey. Why should he be killed? He would have done you no harm.” “He would, indeed, mademoiselle. You are my own mademoiselle, and you shall not be thinking of this--this _imaginary_ person. If he comes, I will have him killed.” “I thought you cared a little for me, Bey, now that we have been two years together,” said Cecil, with deep reproach. “And yet you talk like this of having an innocent person whom I loved killed, just because I loved him and he loved me.” “But that is the very reason, mademoiselle. You would marry him and go away to your England again, and I want you to stay here in Baghdad, and be always ready when I want to ask you things. When I am married, I shall say to Safieh Khanum, ‘If you wish to please me, ask Mdlle. Antaza’s advice about everything, and you are sure to be right.’ So you see, mademoiselle, I shall always want you, and you must not go away. Why, I heard Masûd telling you how rude I was to him yesterday, and how I teased Ayesha and Basmeh Kalfa just because you were away.” “But I can’t stay with you always,” said Cecil, vexed, and yet half-laughing at the tone of pride in which he spoke, “so we must hope you will improve before I leave you. If I never married at all, I should go home when my five years here were over. When you are married, Safieh Khanum will know very well how to manage things without my advice. Don’t you see that it wouldn’t do at all for me to be interfering in her household affairs? Besides, Bey, think how selfish you are. You would like me to lose the very thing that is making me so happy just now, because you would have to do without me.” “If any one comes, and wishes to be engaged to you, mademoiselle, I shall have him killed,” repeated Azim Bey, doggedly. Cecil lost her temper.