“May it agree with you!” said the girl, raising her hand to her head. Having forgotten the proper response, I answered at random with that useful word, “_Bismillah_.” I was thankful for my few phrases of Arabic; they made the women laugh and set us all at ease! The girls examined our dresses and hats with childlike curiosity. They asked about our husbands. When told we were unmarried, they were scandalized. An embossed silver bowl filled with scented water was now presented; we dipped our fingers and dried them on linen towels embroidered in gold, fragrant with attar of roses, then they led us into another room for our audience. Here was a strange medley of East and West! The eldest Princess in native costume of white satin, richly embroidered, sat on a low divan; there were chairs for the rest of us. The second Princess wore, wrong side before, a European frock meant to be fastened up the back. The youngest Princess, the “favorite”, was dressed like a Parisian, in blue silk, with many diamonds. She spoke a little French and acted as interpreter. When we were seated, chibouks were handed us. Julia McAllister and I, who had rehearsed this part, managed our long pipes tolerably well; my mother made dreadful work of hers, coughing horribly, and blowing into her chibouk till she put it out. The elder Princess clapped her hands for a slave to relight it with a perfumed coal held in a pair of silver tongs. “Do not trouble yourself to smoke, madam,” said the favorite. “It is evident you have not the habit.” They were interested in our travels and asked endless questions about the places we had seen. “What is the matter with those young women that at their age they are unmarried?” the first Princess asked my mother. The explanation that we had not yet met our fates did not seem to satisfy her. “Do you enjoy traveling?” one of us asked after a long pause. “We should enjoy it,” the first Princess sighed, “but the custom of our country forbids us!” As conversation was not easy, my mother cut the visit rather short, according to oriental ideas. We learned later from Mahomet that we had not made a bad impression, but that we had been expected to stay much longer. Shortly after we received an invitation for the Khedive’s ball at the Abdin Palace; full dress was _de rigueur_. Before leaving Paris there had been a discussion as to what clothes we should take for our journey to the East. I recalled Aunt Louisa’s advice: “Never go anywhere without a ball dress!” I made room in my modest trunk for my best ball dress, though I was a good deal laughed at for my pains. When I stepped into Stone Pasha’s carriage and drove to that fairy ball at the Abdin Palace, dressed in the latest Parisian fashion, the laugh was on the other side!