look of grateful pleasure at finding himself treated like a gentleman and a scholar by two such eminent Europeans; for I (as a woman) am quite as surprising as even M. de Rouge’s knowledge of hieroglyphics and Arabic Fosseeha.  It is very interesting to see something of Arabs who have read and have the ‘gentleman’ ideas.  His brother, the Imam, has lost his wife; he was married twenty-two years, and won’t hear of taking another.  I was struck with the sympathy he expressed with the English Sultana, as all the uneducated people say, ‘Why doesn’t she marry again?’ It is curious how refinement brings out the same feelings under all ‘dispensations.’  I apologized to Yussuf for inadvertently returning the Salaam aleykoum (Peace be with thee), which he said to Omar, and which I, as an unbeliever, could not accept.  He coloured crimson, touched my hand and kissed his own, quite distressed lest the distinction might wound me.  When I think of a young parsonic prig at home I shudder at the difference.  But Yussuf is superstitious; he told me how someone down the river cured his cattle with water poured over a Mushaf (a copy of the Koran), and has hinted at writing out a chapter for me to wear as a hegab (an amulet for my health).  He is interested in the antiquities and in M. de Rouge’s work, and is quite up to the connection between Ancient Egypt and the books of Moses, exaggerating the importance of Seyidna Moussa, of course.

If I go down to Cairo again I will get letters to some of the Alim there from Abd-el-Waris, the Imam here, and I shall see what no European but Lane has seen.  I think things have altered since his day, and that men of that class would be less inaccessible than they were then; and then a woman who is old (Yussuf guessed me at sixty) and educated does not shock, and does interest them.  All the Europeans here are traders, and only speak the vulgarest language, and don’t care to know Arab gentlemen; if they see anything above their servants it is only Turks, or Arab merchants at times.  Don’t fancy that I can speak at all decently yet, but I understand a good deal, and stammer out a little.

March 1, 1864:  Mrs. Austin

To Mrs. Austin.  LUXOR, March 1, 1864.

Dearest Mutter,

I think I shall have an opportunity of sending letters in a few days by a fast steamer, so I will begin one on the chance and send it by post if the steamer is delayed long.  The glory of the climate now is beyond description, and I feel better every day.  I go out early—­at seven or eight o’clock—­on my tiny black donkey, and come in to breakfast about ten, and go out again at four.