Accepting the assurance, the ladies dismounted, and the boy bustled about with great self-importance, sending one of the old women-servants to hasten the preparations for the guests’ comfort, giving the ponies into the charge of the men who had led them to be taken to the stables, and arranging that Murtiza Khan should be allowed to sleep in the great hall, so that his mistresses might feel he was not far off in case they needed protection. He had so much to do, and so many orders to give, that it almost seemed as if he was waiting as long as possible before introducing the visitors to his sister; but at last he appeared to feel that there was no help for it, and led the way resolutely behind the curtain, guided by the second old woman with her torch. In the first room to which they came, a girl was sitting on a charpoy. She had evidently put on her richest clothes, and her fingers and wrists were loaded with jewels; but her toilet was not complete, for she was so busy plaiting her hair that she had no leisure even to look at the visitors. An old woman who stood behind her was assisting in the hair-dressing, but apparently under protest, for her young mistress was scolding her energetically. “O my sister, here are the Memsahibs,” said the boy, with considerable misgiving in his tone, when he could make himself heard. “Oh, these are the women?” Wazira Begum vouchsafed them a casual glance. “This is the first time that Farangi beggars have come to our door, but Zulika will find them a quilt to sleep on, and there are plenty of scraps.” “O my sister, the Memsahibs are our guests,” began the boy distressfully, but Lady Haigh interrupted him. “It strikes me you are making a mistake, young lady,” she said, marching across the room, and taking, uninvited, the place of honour on the charpoy, at the hostess’s right hand. “Penelope, sit down here,” indicating the next seat. “When the Sheikh-ul-Jabal returns, will he be pleased to hear that his daughter has insulted two English ladies who sought his hospitality? The English are his friends, and he is theirs.” The girl had sprung from the charpoy as Lady Haigh sat down beside her. “The English are pigs!” she exclaimed. “O Maadat Ali! O Zulika! who is lady here, I or this Farangi woman? Will ye see her thrust me from my own place?” “Nay, my sister, it is thou who art wrong,” returned the boy boldly. “The women are great ladies among the English, and friends of Kīlin Sahib, for so their servant told me. Thou art not wise.” “Then be thou wise for both! I will not stay here with these shameless ones. Zulika may look to them.” “You are going to bed?” asked Lady Haigh placidly. “I think you are wise, after all. And let me advise you to think things over. I don’t want to get you into trouble, but the Sheikh must hear of it if we are not properly treated.”