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“Lady Haigh, don’t you believe in any one?” Cecil’s tone was one of absolute dismay, and Lady Haigh laughed pleasantly.

“Not in many Armenians, dear, at any rate—or many Easterns, for that matter. I will give you a warning, Cecil. If you wish to keep your faith in human nature, don’t marry a consul-general in the East. When you have knocked about as much as I have, you will know what I mean. Of course there are exceptions. Ah! here is Denarien Bey at last. Now we can have lunch, and a really interesting talk.”

Cecil was still suffering under the shock caused by Lady Haigh’s want of faith in oriental human nature, and she was very silent at first. But the other two ladies kept up a brisk conversation with Denarien Bey, and presently she became interested against her will.

“Of what nation is the Pasha?” she asked at last, when the rest had been discussing the various reforms which his Excellency had lately introduced.

“It is very difficult to say,” replied Denarien Bey, meditatively. “I should think it probable that he has mingled Turkish, Circassian, and Egyptian blood in his veins. Nothing is known of his antecedents, but in Turkey we care little about that. When he first rose to distinction it was alleged that he himself did not know who his parents were, but he disproved the calumny by producing his mother, and installing her as the head of his harem.”