Montella went over to the parapet and looked down. A small white swan-shaped car, drawn by four Arabian ponies, was being driven slowly away. It was decorated with choice flowers, and illuminated with tiny lamps, resulting in a fairy-like effect. In the procession which would presently set out for the mock hanging of Haman’s effigy, it would serve as Queen Esther’s triumphal car. “Lady Montella took me over your new house this afternoon,” the Princess informed Patricia, as she settled herself at her side. “It will be the show-place of Haifa. I like your Roman atrium immensely. Who designed it?” “Lionel. He is so determined that I should have an artistic home that he has spared no pains to make it beautiful for me. That is why the builders have taken so much time over it. For myself, I am quite happy in this little place, in spite of its plainness. It was a sort of hospice before we came, you know.” She smiled as she thought of her husband’s enthusiasm over the house he was having built. That house was his hobby, and he took the same pride in it as an artist over his picture. And she knew the motive of his interest was concentrated in herself; in his eyes there was no home which could be beautiful enough for his wife. “You must invite me to come and stay with you when it is finished,” said the Princess lightly. “Meanwhile I must be content with my exalted position on the top of Mount Carmel. It is something, is it not, to stay in the very place where Elijah conquered the prophets of Baal? I love Mount Carmel!” “You seem quite enamoured of Palestine altogether,” said Montella, joining the group. “I did not think you would stay so long, Princess—you who have seen so much of other countries.” “I do like Palestine,” she admitted readily. “I like the Oriental colouring, and it amuses me to note the curious blending of types and nationalities to be found here. Besides, Palestine possesses an interest all its own. I am not religiously inclined myself; but it is, after all, the _Holy Land_.” “The Holy Land!” repeated Patricia musingly. “Do you know of what the phrase puts me in remembrance? Why, of the dreaded Scripture lessons I had in the days of my childhood. My governess used to make me learn the exact position of every place mentioned in the Bible, until I could almost find them, blindfolded, on the map. I am afraid I used to hate the Holy Land in those days. I never dreamt that I should go there myself.” “And do you like it better now that you are here?” “Yes; but I should like any place for so long as my husband were with me.” She glanced affectionately at Lionel. The Princess sighed. Perhaps a pang of compunction smote her for having left her own husband to lead a solitary life in the castle at Felsen-Schvoenig. Hers was a curious blending of character which the German Prince could not understand. She was alternately defiant and yielding; unfortunately, whenever she came into contact with her husband, the defiance predominated.