"I can tell it all now to Ezra," answered Naomi confidently. "I have not forgotten a single sight. So far I liked it best of all when the great Pharisee gave alms to the poor in the market-place just now, when we were waiting there for Jacob. I liked it when his servant blew upon the trumpet, and the poor came hurrying, and every one turned to look. And next best I liked the cages of sparrows for sale. We have them in the market-place at home, but not so many nor so fat. And next--" "And next," interrupted her aunt with a smile, "thou wouldst like thy dinner, perhaps. Here is the home of Simon's sister Anna, and verily I believe her little Martha is watching for us through the wicket in the gate." Little Martha, with the help of the porter, threw open the gate before Aunt Miriam could say another word, and Naomi stepped through a passageway under the house into a courtyard with a tiny fountain playing in the center and a palm growing on either side of it. Little Martha was as fair as Naomi was dark. She had light reddish hair and blue eyes, and well pleased was her mother that it should be so, for this was called "King David's coloring" and was supposed to have been that of the great King himself. She wore a soft little robe of white and a fine gold chain about her neck. She joyfully led the visitors to her mother who was waiting for them at the end of the court. "Come in, thou blessed of the Lord," was the gracious greeting Anna gave them, and she ushered them up the stairs and into a room that actually had two windows cut in the side. They were the first windows Naomi had ever looked from, and she held tight to the sill for fear of falling into the street below. "I would that I had windows in my house," thought Naomi ruefully. "I would be so proud if I were Martha. But then she has no brother Ezra nor baby Jonas to play with her." In spite of the windows little Martha did not seem at all proud. She helped her mother bring bowls of water for the guests to wash in, and when the meal was ready she patted the plump cushions into shape on the divans placed before the gayly painted table. "Sit by me," she whispered to Naomi, breaking off a neat three-cornered piece of barley cake which was to serve Naomi as knife and fork and spoon. For dinner there was a dish of young kid stewed with olives, hot barley cakes, fresh and dried fruit--apricots, figs, pomegranates--and a bowl of amber honey. Not an easy thing is it to serve one's self with neatness and dispatch without knife or fork, and only one's fingers and a bit of bread to rely upon. But Naomi and Martha were able to dip their food from the common dish with a bit of barley cake quite as nicely as the grown people did, and they sat quiet and respectful while Aunt Miriam told of Simon's illness and the reason for this trip to Jerusalem.