“Pretty, but very unsuitable!” said Miss Folly briefly.
“True! though I don’t know what business it is of yours. No ornaments at all, eh? Much better so! Put the diamond stars in my cap, will you? _Some one_ must dress up a little; if you say much more, Mongoose, I’ll make you wear the emeralds yourself, and a pretty sight you’d be!”
Honor privately thought that Miss Folly needed nothing more to make her a pretty sight. In her simple dark blue dress, with the fichu of soft net and the old-fashioned topaz brooch, she was pretty enough, in all conscience. She seemed never in the least discomposed by Mrs. Damian’s abrupt speeches. She smiled now and went away, presumably to arrange the diamonds.
“H’m!” said Mrs. Damian. “Sit down, my dear. Don’t fidget! Your friends will be here soon. The last party I gave--let me see! Was it in Russia? After the last one I gave there, I remember, the servants ate up all the candles. But--no! the very last one was in Africa, in the Great Desert. My dear! would you like to hear about it? Fold your hands in your lap--lightly! Don’t clasp them. I am not Grand Opera. And don’t turn in your toes! So! We were quite a caravan, and there had been a sandstorm which came very near being the final party for all of us--h’m! yes! Well--so when we got to the nearest oasis and found we were all alive, it seemed proper to celebrate. You see?”
Mrs. Damian swooped; Honor blinked and caught her breath, then nodded eagerly.
“We ranged the camels and horses in a circle; after watering them, naturally. The mats were spread, and the Mohammedans said their prayers: well, I said mine too, only without demonstration. I am too old to show you how a Moslem prays; he kneels, tumbles forward on his forehead, then back on his heels. Very singular! I’d make Folly do it for you, but she has scruples.” This, as Miss Folly entered with the cap. “Thanks, Folly! Put it on for me, will you? Straight, please! None of your piratical rakishness! I believe you are a Buccaneer in disguise! Well, we supped on fresh dates, locusts and wild honey--I felt like John the Baptist--I had a garment of camel’s hair, too, though probably different from his-- What is it, my dear? Keep your eyes in your head; they look better there.”