The spot where our tents were pitched commands a view, I think
one of the loveliest in the world. Perhaps with me association
has something to do with the feeling. That broad sweep of the
plains of Jericho, bright with their groves of Zizyphus trees;
the lake waters coming in at the south; the great line of the
Moab horizon, and the heights of the western shore; and then
the constant changes which the light makes in revealing all
these; I found it a study of beauty, from the morning till the
night. From the time when the sun rose over the Moab mountains
and brightened our dôm trees and kissed our spring, to the
evening when the shadow of Quarantania stretched over all our
neighbourhood, as it stretched over Jericho of old, and the
distant hills and waters and thickets glowed in colours and
lights of their own.

The next morning after my walk I was up early, and going a
little way from my tent door, I sat down to enjoy it. The
servants were but just stirring; my father and Mr. Dinwiddie
safe within their canvas curtains. It was very nice to be
alone, for I wanted to think. The air was deliciously balmy
and soft; another fair day had risen upon us in that region of
tropical summer; the breath of the air was peace. Or was it
the speech of the past? It is difficult to disentangle things
sometimes. I had troublesome matters to think about, yet
somehow I was not troubled. I did not lay hold of trouble, all
the while I was in Palestine. Mr. Dinwiddie's words had
revealed to me that it might be my duty to tell my father all
that was in my heart. Suspicions of the fact, only, had
crossed my thought before; but "as iron sharpeneth iron, so a