Fitnah Khânum sometimes shook her head and spoke of necessary discipline. Barakah only smiled; as she did also, when young Na’imah, puffed up with pride of her new motherhood, exclaimed: “By Allah, I will bring up my son otherwise.” But when the prim and dainty Turkish ladies looked fastidious, glancing around her room where toys lay scattered, she felt angry. The salons of those ladies were maintained in spotless cleanliness; their children, though untidy to avert ill-fortune, were as courtly as small chamberlains towards their elders.

“It is strange! Thou art an Englishwoman, yet thou likest these things!” Amînah Khânum exclaimed once, remarking her affection for a certain sweetstuff, common in the markets but unknown in decent houses⁠—a taste she had acquired through Umm ed-Dahak. “Thou art too much with the women of the country. Be more discerning in the choice of friends.”