Fortunately at this point an interpreter was brought forward in the person of an Italian slave, a good-looking middle-aged lady, who understood French, and who, during a servitude of ten years, had also acquired Turkish.
Compliments were now bandied to and fro with great volubility, without any introductory references to weather, and much notice was taken of little Agnes, whose appearance was the cause of some good-natured criticism among the Algerine belles. As the costume of these latter,—with much variety in colour and detail,—bore strong general resemblance to that of the bride of Rais Ali, it is not necessary to describe it more minutely.
Coffee and sweetmeats were now served, the former in exquisitely delicate porcelain cups, so small that they might have been easily mistaken for part, of a doll's establishment. They had neither handles nor saucers, and were prevented from burning the fingers by being inserted into what we may style egg-cups of beautiful gold and silver filigree. The coffee was too thick to suit the European palate, being ground in a fashion peculiar to the Moors. It was also too sweet.
There was present a younger sister of the bride, who had not only a tendency, but had already attained in an unusual degree, to the possession of embonpoint, and was appropriately named Fatma.
