not hear of such a thing.  The sun set while he was here, and he asked if I objected to his praying in my presence, and went through his four rekahs very comfortably on my carpet.  My next-door neighbour (across the courtyard all filled with antiquities) is a nice little Copt who looks like an antique statue himself.  I shall voisiner with his family.  He sent me coffee as soon as I arrived, and came to help.  I am invited to El-Moutaneh, a few hours up the river, to visit the Mouniers, and to Keneh to visit Seyyid Achmet, and also the head of the merchants there who settled the price of a carpet for me in the bazaar, and seemed to like me.  He was just one of those handsome, high-bred, elderly merchants with whom a story always begins in the Arabian Nights.  When I can talk I will go and see a real Arab hareem.  A very nice English couple, a man and his wife, gave me breakfast in their boat, and turned out to be business connections of Ross’s, of the name of Arrowsmith; they were going to Assouan, and I shall see them on their way back.  I asked Mustapha about the Arab young lady, and he spoke very highly of her, and is to let me know if she comes here and to offer hospitality from me:  he did not know her name—­she is called ‘el Haggeh’ (the Pilgrimess).

Thursday.—­Now I am settled in my Theban palace, it seems more and more beautiful, and I am quite melancholy that you cannot be here to enjoy it.  The house is very large and has good thick walls, the comfort of which we feel to-day for it blows a hurricane; but indoors it is not at all cold.  I have glass windows and doors to some of the rooms.  It is a lovely dwelling.  Two funny little owls as big as my fist live in the wall under my window, and come up and peep in, walking on tip-toe, and looking inquisitive like the owls in the hieroglyphics; and a splendid horus (the sacred hawk) frequents my lofty balcony.  Another of my contemplar gods I sacrilegiously killed last night, a whip snake.  Omar is rather in consternation for fear it should be ‘the snake of the house,’ for Islam has not dethroned the Dii lares et tutelares.

I have been ‘sapping’ at the Alif Bey (A B C) to-day, under the direction of Sheykh Yussuf, a graceful, sweet-looking young man, with a dark brown face and such fine manners, in his fellah dress—­a coarse brown woollen shirt, a libdeh, or felt skull-cap, and a common red shawl round his head and shoulders; writing the wrong way is very hard work.  Some men came to mend the staircase, which had fallen in and which consists of huge solid blocks of stone.  One crushed his thumb and I had to operate on it.  It is extraordinary how these people bear pain; he never winced in the least, and went off thanking God and the lady quite cheerfully.  Till to-day the weather has been quite heavenly; last night I sat with my window open, it was so warm.  If only I had you all here!  How Rainie would play in