And by her side there was an odd bubbling that put her in mind of blowing the soap-suds into a froth when preparing them for bubble blowing; but when she looked round she saw something very unlike the long pipes her big brother used, or the basin of soap-suds.  There was a beautifully shaped glass bottle, and into it went a very long twisting tube, like a snake coiled on the floor, and the other end of the serpent, instead of a head, had an amber mouth-piece which went between a pair of lips.  Lucy knew it for a hubble-bubble or Turkish pipe, and saw that the lips were in a brown face, with big black eyes, round which dark bluish circles were drawn.  The jet-black hair was carefully braided with jewels, and over it was thrown a purple satin sort of pelisse over a white silk embroidered vest, tied in with a sash, striped with all manner of colors; also immense wide white trousers, out of which peeped a pair of brown bare feet, on which, however, were a splendid pair of slippers curled up at the toes.

The owner seemed to be very little older than Lucy, and sat gravely looking at her for a little while, then clapped her hands.  A black woman came, and the young Turkish maiden said, “Bring coffee for the little Frank lady.”

So a tiny table of mother-of-pearl was brought, and on it some exquisite little striped porcelain cups, standing not in saucers, but in silver filigree cups into which they exactly fitted.  Lucy remembered her Chinese experience, and did not venture to ask for milk or sugar, but she found that the real Turkish coffee was so pure and delicate that she could drink it without.

“Where are your jewels?” then asked the little hostess.

“I’m not old enough to have any.”

“How old are you?”

“Nine.”

“Nine!  I’m only ten, and I shall be married next week—–­”

“Married!  Oh, no, you are joking.”

“Yes, I shall.  Selim Bey has paid my father the dowry for me, and I shall be taken to his house next week.”

“And I suppose you like him very much.”

“He looks big and tall,” said the child with exultation.  “I saw him riding when I went with my mother to the Sweet Waters.  ‘Amina,’ she said, ‘there is your lord, in the Frankish coat—­with the white horse.’”

“Have you not talked to him?” asked Lucy.

“What should I do that for?” said Amina.

“Aunt Bessie used to like to talk to nobody but Uncle Frank before they were married,” replied Lucy.

“I shall talk enough when I am married,” replied the little Turk.  “I shall make him give me plenty of sweetmeats, and a carriage with two handsome bullocks, and the biggest Nubian black slave in the market to drive me to Sweet Waters, in a thin blue veil, with all my jewels on.  Father says that Selim Bey will give me everything, and a Frank governess.  What is a governess?  Is it anything like the little gold case you have round your neck?”