On the invitation of its occupant, I advanced, making the _temina_[6] with all the ceremony necessary to continue the deceit; and it was not until I had kissed the hand of the Buyuk Hanoum, and stood upright before her, that she detected the masquerade; but when she did so, I was overwhelmed with exclamations and intreaties—I was beautiful—resistless—I should turn the head of every True Believer in Stamboul—Why did I desire to return to England, when there was not a Pasha in Constantinople who would not consider me ‘the Light of the Harem’—Would I become a Turk?—and a thousand other ejaculations of like import. When the sensation had partially subsided, I returned to the saloon; and as the yashmac had previously been arranged in the manner in which it is worn by the ladies of the Seraï, I took a second lesson, to enable me to put it on in the more general fashion; and I then amused myself for five minutes in watching the manœuvres of a slave who was purchasing some water-melons from a fruit-caïque. Nothing could be more ludicrous: the great gate of the harem was ajar, and one of the caïquejhes stood on the terrace, and took the fruit from his companion; after which he advanced towards the entrance, and rolled it through the open space on to the marble floor beyond: the slave running after each as it appeared, and grasping it with both hands, as she held it to her ear, to ascertain if it would give out the splashing sound without which it is of no value—laying aside those that she approved, and rolling back the others with a velocity that gave her the appearance of being engaged at a game of bowls with the Greeks on the terrace; talking, moreover, all the time with an earnestness worthy of the occasion. I loitered away another hour with my amiable hostesses, and then, looking at my watch, I urged a previous engagement, in order to overcome their kindly entreaties that I would spend the remainder of the day with them; and having bade adieu to the Buyuk Hanoum and her numerous guests, and promised to pay her another visit before I left Constantinople, I once more quitted the hospitable halls of the Reiss Effendi; carrying away with me the liveliest feeling of gratitude for all the attentions which I had experienced from every member of his family. CHAPTER XIX. Imperial Gratitude—The Freed Woman—A Female Cœlebs—Hussein the Watchmaker—Golden Dreams—Arabas and Arabajhes—Maternal Regrets—A Matrimonial Excursion—Difficult Position—The _Sèkèljhes_—A Young Husband—The Emir—The Officer of the Guard—The Emir’s Daughter—First Love—Ballad Singing—A Salutation—Moonlight—Rejected Addresses—Ruse de Guerre—The Arrest—A Lover’s Defence—Munificence of the Seraskier Pasha.