"My son!" said she. "This magnificence is not for me!""Yes, Mother Khadra, it is indeed for you. Ask the merchant, Lion; Ipaid for it honestly. You think, perhaps, I have not noticed that the dress in which you go to the mosque is torn and faded? You think, perhaps, I do not know that your head-dress has often been mended? I well know that it has been. I know, too, that the women laugh and say mockingly:--She has not even a Sabbath dress, and appears before Allah in the garb of a beggar!' Therefore, I rejoice at having been able to procure a new dress for you, mother. Have it made, in order that you may appear before Allah in festive attire.""No my son, it is impossible," said Khadra sadly, as Mohammed held out the costly package.
"Why impossible?" cried he, excitedly.
"Because it does not become the widow of Ibrahim, the poor woman, to array herself in garments of purple, gold-embroidered satin, like the ladies of rank. The women would laugh at and mock me more than ever if I should wear such magnificent garments instead of my faded dress. Neither can I wear the veil. You can preserve all this to give to your bride some day. It does not become old Sitta Khadra to adorn herself thus.""You are not old, Mother Khadra," said he, in half-tender, angry tones. "You are still young, and when you adorn yourself with these garments, there will be no handsomer woman in all Cavalla than Sitta Khadra. I beg you to put them on; but, to please me, leave the veil a little open, as the other women do, that people may see how beautiful my mother is.""This is folly, and I, am glad no one else hears your audacious words. No chaste woman opens her veil to permit the gaze of disrespectful men to fall on her, and my son Mohammed does not wish to blush for his mother. My son, take back this package to Mr. Lion.
I cannot wear such clothes."
"You will not take them?" said the boy, hastily seizing the package.
"What my heart's warmest love offers, you reject?""I reject it," said she, gently. "I have no need of such clothes.""Very well," cried he, defiantly. "If you do not need these clothes, I will give them to the mermaids. They, too, like fine clothes, and they will thank me more for that which I have bought with my life.
Yes, I will do this!"
He rushed to the door with such violence that Khadra could hardly recall him. "Where are you going, Mohammed?""To the cliffs. What my mother despises I will throw, into the sea.""Well, if you are about to do that, it shall be as you wish," said the mother, leading him back from the door. "If the mermaids are to have these beautiful things, it is better Mother Khadra should keep them.""You promise me to wear these clothes?" said he, a smile suddenly illuminating his face.
Khadra seated herself, spread out the beautiful goods, and regarded them with a mournful smile. "It looks like mockery.""No, not like mockery, but like pure love," said the boy, eagerly.
"My love dresses you in purple and gold, and I wish to see Sitta Khadra the most brilliant among women." A blissful smile suffused itself over his features. But suddenly this smile disappeared, and his countenance assumed an expression of care and anxiety. At this moment he saw how pale his mother was. Her pallor contrasted strangely with the purple lustre of the goods she held in her hands.
"You are not ill, Mother Khadra; you are not suffering?" said he, in the same anxious tone in which he had so often asked.
"No, my son, I am not ill," said she, regarding him calmly.
"When I shall some day wear this beautiful dress, and this gold-embroidered veil, you will take delight in me. Thank you, child of my heart, light of my eyes! Thank you for this, splendid present Iwill hold it in honor while life lasts."
"I thank you for accepting it, and beg you not to be angry with me for having been so violent," said Mohammed, entreatingly, as he kissed his mother's extended hand. "Tell me once more, mother, are you well; do you feel no pain?""I feel well, and am not suffering," said she, regarding him lovingly. 'I should gladly see you indulge yourself in one of your walks to the cliffs or mountains. It is long since you have taken one. I feel better than usual. I shall go to your sick uncle to wait on him, and when I return I shall lie down. You need not fear that Iam waiting for you. Go to the mountains, beloved of my heart!""I shall do so gladly," he cried, embracing and kissing her heartily. He then walked with hasty steps to the door of the hut, and out into the free air.
