"Silence!" exclaimed Nefysseh, interrupting him, with queenly composure, as she rose from her seat--"silence, Osman Bey! do you not know that my husband Mourad lived here in this garden, in this place? How could his wife, Sitta Nefysseh, have received you unveiled if her husband had not stood by her side? Do you not see him, Osman Bey? Do you not see his eyes fixed on you with an angry expression, and do not his lips ask his friend how he can betray friendship? What was your promise to Mourad? To honor and guard his wife while you lived." "And I will, Sitta Nefysseh. I do guard and honor her, but I also love her as ardently as ever man loved woman!" exclaimed Bardissi, in passionate tones. "Does not man honor woman most when he loves her best? How can I better prove my adoration and reverence than by laying my life at your feet, and saying, in tones of humble entreaty, `Sitta Nefysseh, be my wife, follow me to my house, and be mistress of myself and of all that I am?" "Do not say this, Osman Bey, I entreat you, do not speak thus to me!" cried Sitta Nefysseh in a loud voice. "It would give pain to me to have to answer you, and it will be better not to have heard your words. I call you friend, and I wish you to remain my friend all your life long. Yet, hear me; my heart is open to no other love, and my hands must remain unfettered. Mourad's widow remains true to herself, and to him who dwells in her heart, and is ever at her side. Let us forget, Osman, what you, carried away by your friendship, have said. You thought Mourad's wife felt herself alone in the world, and, out of friendship for your deceased friend, you desired to offer her the support of your heroic hand. If ever I should need assistance, and a friend, rest assured, Osman, I shall call on you. But now, step back, one of my slaves is approaching with a message. Turn your countenance away, Osman, it looks so gloomy and passionate; I would not have her notice your love." He turns aside, and seems to be listening to the distant singing and playing of the slaves; he, however, hears the slave, who now enters the kiosk, announce that L'Elfi Bey desires to see her mistress. He hears it, and shudders. L'Elfi Bey, his friend and companion-in- arms; what brings him here to Mourad's widow? Sitta Nefysseh sends word that the bey is welcome, and the slave departs on her errand. "L'Elfi Bey is permitted to come to you!" "And why not?" asked she proudly. "Was not Osman Bey permitted to visit me, and was not L'Elfi also my husband's friend?" "It is true; forgive my thoughtlessness," replied Osman in low and almost angry tones. "Permit me to take my leave, Sitta Nefysseh. I do not wish to disturb your interview with the great L'Elfi Bey." "On the contrary, you will please remain," replied she, quietly, gracefully drawing her fragrant veil over her head, and covering her face.