"I have no use for that law," said Mohammed, proudly. "You shall
know. This love-offering is for my mother. She is the only woman I
love, and she will also be the only one I shall ever love. Give me a
beautiful dress, richly embroidered, and a veil adorned with golden
fringe. She shall go no more to the mosque so poorly dressed. She
shall be magnificently arrayed, that she may be envied by all other
women. Give me something very handsome."
"You shall have it, my boy. Excuse me for calling you so again, but
this time it is done to show you my love for your childlike heart.
Come with me to the hall. You shall select the handsomest dress,
regardless of the cost."
He led him to the hall in which he kept the magnificent goods from
which the ladies in the harems of the Turks of rank were accustomed
to select their festal dresses, and spread the beautiful goods out
before Mohammed. The boy's eyes sparkled with pleasure as he beheld
this costly array. He selected a magnificent piece of purple satin
embroidered with silver, and an Indian veil of the finest make,
adorned with fringe of real gold. It was a suit that would have
delighted the daughters of the sultan at Stamboul, and it did not
occur to Mohammed that it was worth at least ten times as much as he
had to give for it. Mr. Lion took the four ducats with a smile, and
handed him the beautiful goods wrapped in gilt-edged paper.
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