But Barakah was happy as she was; or, if not altogether happy, chose to seem so from a blend of pride and indolence. Against the condescension of the Turkish ladies she armed her dignity with the reflection that she was born above all Eastern women. Yet she dared not let remembrance dwell on England for fear of terrible misgivings she had sworn to banish. Her boy, she thought, should be her vindication. He was visibly superior to other children of the land.

To him, clasped tightly to her breast, she poured out all her secret and tormenting thoughts.