There was little inside the tent, except the meagerest essential
furnishing. A long amphora stood in a tamarisk rack in one corner; a
linen napkin hung, pinned to the tent-cloth, over it; a glazed laver
and a small box sat beside it. A mat of braided reeds, the handiwork
of the old Israelite, covered the naked earth. This served as seat or
table for the occupants. Several wisps of straw were scattered about
and a heap of it, over which a cotton cloak had been thrown, lay in one
corner.

"Rachel," the old woman said briskly.

Evidently some one slept under the straw, for the heap stirred.

"Rachel!" the old woman reiterated, drawing off the cloak.

Without any preliminary pushing away of the straw, a young girl sat up.
A little bewildered, she divested her head and shoulders of a frowsy
straw thatch and stood erect, shaking it off from her single short
garment.

She was not more than sixteen years old. Above medium height and of
nobler proportions than the typical woman of the race, her figure was
remarkable for its symmetry and utter grace. The stamp of the
countenance was purely Semitic, except that she was distinguished, most
wondrously in color, from her kind. Her sleep had left its exquisite
heaviness on eyes of the tenderest blue, and the luxuriant hair she
pushed back from her face was a fleece of gold. Hers was that rare
complexion that does not tan. The sun but brightened her hair and
wrought the hue of health in her cheeks. Her forehead was low, broad,