"Daisy!" said papa suddenly in one of these talks, - "Daisy!

you are not interested in this."

"Papa, it is so uncertain."

Mr. Dinwiddie laughed.

"But the question, child; don't you care about the question?

how is it ever to be made certain? I thought this question

would engage all your attention."

"How can it ever be made certain, papa? After those hundred

and fifty years when there were no Jews allowed here, who was

to remember the spot of the Sepulchre? Few but Christians knew

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it, in the first place."

"Oh, you have thought about it!" said papa. "But are you not

interested in a probable site, Daisy?"

"No, papa."

"All these old churches and relics then do not concern you?"

"Papa, I only go to see them for your sake."

"Well," said papa, "now I will go to the Mount of Olives for

your sake."

That was my plan; following the advice of the English party,

who said they had enjoyed it. We hired for a time a little

stone dwelling on the Mount of Olives, from which we had a

fine view of the city; and to this new home papa and I moved,

and took up our quarters in it. Of all my days in the Holy

Land, excepting perhaps the time spent at Jericho and Engedi,

these days were the best. They are like a jewel of treasure in

my memory.

The little dwelling to which we had come was rougher in

accommodation than our tents; but the season was still early,

and it gave better shelter to papa. It was a rude stone house,

with a few small rooms at our service; which I soon made

comfortable with carpets and cushions. The flat roof above

gave us a delightful view of the country and abundant chance

to examine and watch all its points and aspects. I spent the

hours up here or at the window of our little sitting-room;

using my eyes all the time, to take in and feast upon what was

before them. Only when papa would go out with me, I left my

post; to take up the survey from some new point of view. I had

a great deal to think of, those days; a certain crisis in my

life had come, or was coming; I was facing it and getting

ready for it; and thinking and looking seemed to help and

stimulate each other. It was wonderful to watch the lights

change on Jerusalem; from the first sunbeam that came over the

hills of Moab and touched the city, to the full glare of the

midday, and then the sunset colours on land and rock and

building, transforming the dull greys and whites with a flush

of rosy beauty and purple splendour. The tints that hovered

then upon the red hills of Moab were never to be forgotten. I

watched it, this change of light and shade and colour, from

day to day. I learned to know Jerusalem and her surrounding

hills and her enclosing valleys; and the barrier wall of Moab

became a familiar line to me. All this while, as I said, I had

a great deal to think of, and was thinking. Past, present and

future chased each other in and out of my head; or rather, it

seems to me, dwelt there together.




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