The girl laughed happily. “Why, it is only Isaac. He would think it strange if I delayed to meet him and I am so glad, so very glad, he hath come.”
“But he may misunderstand thy eagerness, Miriam.” Eli’s tones were somewhat stern. “Remember, thou art no longer a child.”
Miriam stopped short, reddening painfully. “Isaac hath never misunderstood,” she retorted.
Nevertheless, when he took both her hands in his she was for the first time unable to meet his gaze frankly. He found it very charming and in some circumstances it might have been encouraging, but he had seen, if he had not heard, and now put his own construction upon the degree of understanding between herself and Eli. With a heavy heart he noticed that Eli acted as host, a right not only undisputed but apparently expected by both Rachel and Miriam. From this he drew further disquieting conclusions, which were not contradicted by the conversation he was allowed with Miriam herself.
She asked innumerable questions about the household at Damascus, but there was not half time to answer fully. She told him a great deal about her mother’s last days and very little about herself. Far too little to satisfy him. She called his attention to the new abode, built on the site of the old with the gift she had brought from the House of Naaman. Her mother had never found the dwelling comfortable. It had seemed too luxurious to have those low and wide benches on three sides of the room for sitting and sleeping, and she was uneasy about the animals, banished to quarters in the courtyard. She had felt more secure to have them at night on the unfloored portion of the same apartment. But the new house was much prized by Benjamin and Rachel, and since they preferred to remain in Israel to be the stay and consolation of Rachel’s parents, Miriam was glad they would have the comfort of a home like those in Syria.
The gift Isaac had just brought—such a generous present from her beloved master and mistress—should be used to purchase a larger flock for Benjamin and thus secure a greater income. Then she spoke of her plans for Eli (she and Isaac were alone for a few minutes), plans which he heartily approved because it would please her. She talked with a pretty hesitancy and with such an evident gratitude and admiration for Eli that Isaac’s worst fears were confirmed, yet he could not bring himself to ask a question direct. He would wait a few days and observe for himself, and he was comforted to an extent by the fact that she desired to return to Damascus. He had hardly expected such willingness.
Finally, Isaac and Eli and Rachel and Miriam together decided that the journey to Syria should not be undertaken for a week. Isaac particularly wished to see Benjamin, and a week would give Miriam time to say her farewells without haste. Also the soldiers would be grateful for a rest in the shade of the mountains. The midsummer heat of the roads they must travel was anything but pleasant, but circumstances had granted them no choice. As Miriam watched him depart, the virus of Lemuel’s remarks began to be active in her brain. Isaac was evidently not in any hurry to return to Damascus!
It was the morning of Miriam’s departure and she and Rachel, from the doorway, were watching the sun rise.
“Thou art so pale, Miriam. Thou dost not have to go. Hast not thy generous master freed thee? I shall miss thee every day.”