"Indeed I am," said Lucy, coloring up. "My papa is a gentleman. And
see how many books we have, and how much we have to learn! French, and
music, and sums, and grammar, and history, and geography."

"I WILL not be a Frank! No, no! I will not learn," said the
alarmed Amina on hearing this catalogue poured forth.

"Geography is very nice," said Lucy; "here are our maps. I will
show you where you live. This is Constantinople."

"I live at Stamboul," said Amina, scornfully.

"There is Stamboul in little letters below--look."

"That Stamboul! The Frank girl is false; Stamboul is a large, large,
beautiful place; not a little black speck. I can see it from my
lattice. White houses and mosques in the sun, and the blue Golden
Horn, with the little vessels gliding along."

Before Lucy could explain, the door opened, and one of her brothers
put in his head. At once Amina began to scream and roll herself in
the window curtain. "A man in the harem! Oh! oh! oh! Were there
no slippers at the door?" And her screaming awoke Lucy, who found
herself at her Uncle Joe's again.



CHAPTER XI. SWITZERLAND.