We were in my aunt's box at the Opera. The pasha, seated by her side,
was listening to a singer who was rather more buxom than elegant; and he
appeared to be calculating what her nett weight would be, after making
deduction for her queen's crown and robes of state. After a minute or
so, he seemed to have solved this equation and lost all further interest
in the problem, for he began to examine the audience. All of a sudden he
shouted out, quite forgetting himself, in his Provençal brogue: "Té! What's that I see?"
"Hush!" said my aunt, nudging him with her elbow, without turning round.
"But, bagasse! it's Mohammed!" he added, in a lower tone.
It was indeed Mohammed, who attracted some attention as he walked with
my houris into their famous box.
"Well, you're right," replied my aunt. "I recognise his charming
daughters."
You may be sure my uncle put up his glasses. When all my people were
settled down in their box, he surveyed them carefully, interrupting his
examination occasionally in order to take a furtive scowl at me. But my
aunt's presence kept him quiet. His composure was perfect for that
matter, except that he seemed extremely puzzled. There were only three
of them--that evidently was not the right number for him. As for me,
prudence dictated that I should get out of the way as quickly as
possible, leaving him to make what observations he pleased.
As I was slipping away quietly to the back of the box, I heard my aunt
saying: "Are you going to speak to him?"
"No; we have had a quarrel!" he growled, looking again for me at his
side.
But slam went the door, and I was out in the passage, whence I escaped
to the back of the scenes and to the green-room. There he joined me
during the entr'acte. But, as you are aware, "Turks do not discuss
harem matters." All I could see clearly was that he was in a fury with
me.
To turn, however, to other things, my perseverance on behalf of
Kondjé-Gul is at last rewarded with complete success.
After I had spent a whole week in looking about, I found, in the Beaujou
district, an institution for young ladies presided over by a Madame
Montier, a kind woman of polished manners. She had suffered a reverse of
fortune, which seems to have prepared her for the express purpose of
civilizing my Kondjé-Gul. There are never more than three or four
boarders in the house: at the present moment two American girls,
daughters of a commodore who is on a mission to the King of Siam, are
finishing their education there. Nothing could suit my purpose better.