I
Feebly Strived Not To Be Outdone In Gestures Of Respect; But
Presently My Bowing Opponent Saw The Error Under
Which I was
acting, and suddenly convinced me that, at all events, I was not
YET in the presence of
A superhuman being, by declaring that he was
not "miladi," but was, in fact, nothing more or less god-like than
the poor doctor, who had brought his mistress's letter to Beyrout.
Her ladyship, in the right spirit of hospitality, now sent and
commanded me to repose for a while after the fatigues of my
journey, and to dine.
The cuisine was of the Oriental kind, which is highly artificial,
and I thought it very good. I rejoiced too in the wine of the
Lebanon.
Soon after the ending of the dinner the doctor arrived with
miladi's compliments, and an intimation that she would he happy to
receive me if I were so disposed. It had now grown dark, and the
rain was falling heavily, so that I got rather wet in following my
guide through the open courts that I had to pass in order to reach
the presence chamber. At last I was ushered into a small
apartment, which was protected from the draughts of air passing
through the doorway by a folding screen; passing this, I came
alongside of a common European sofa, where sat the lady prophetess.
She rose from her seat very formally, spoke to me a few words of
welcome, pointed to a chair which was placed exactly opposite to
her sofa at a couple of yards' distance, and remained standing up
to the full of her majestic height, perfectly still and motionless,
until I had taken my appointed place; she then resumed her seat,
not packing herself up according to the mode of the Orientals, but
allowing her feet to rest on the floor or the footstool; at the
moment of seating herself she covered her lap with a mass of loose
white drapery which she held in her hand.
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