. Her form, voice, and manner belonged
to the period of transition from girlhood. Her face was perfectly
oval, her complexion more pale than fair. The nose was faultless;
the lips, slightly parted, were full and ripe, giving to the lines
of the mouth warmth, tenderness, and trust; the eyes were blue and
large, and shaded by drooping lids and long lashes; and, in harmony
with all, a flood of golden hair, in the style permitted to Jewish
brides, fell unconfined down her back to the pillion on which
she sat. The throat and neck had the downy softness sometimes
seen which leaves the artist in doubt whether it is an effect
of contour or color. To these charms of feature and person were
added others more indefinable--an air of purity which only the
soul can impart, and of abstraction natural to such as think much
of things impalpable. Often, with trembling lips, she raised her
eyes to heaven, itself not more deeply blue; often she crossed
her hands upon her breast, as in adoration and prayer; often she
raised her head like one listening eagerly for a calling voice.
Now and then, midst his slow utterances, Joseph turned to look
at her, and, catching the expression kindling her face as with
light, forgot his theme, and with bowed head, wondering, plodded on.

So they skirted the great plain, and at length reached the elevation
Mar Elias; from which, across a valley, they beheld Bethlehem,
the old, old House of Bread, its white walls crowning a ridge,
and shining above the brown scumbling of leafless orchards.
They paused there, and rested, while Joseph pointed out the
places of sacred renown; then they went down into the valley to
the well which was the scene of one of the marvellous exploits of
David's strong men. The narrow space was crowded with people and
animals. A fear came upon Joseph--a fear lest, if the town were
so thronged, there might not be house-room for the gentle Mary.
Without delay, he hurried on, past the pillar of stone marking the
tomb of Rachel, up the gardened slope, saluting none of the many
persons he met on the way, until he stopped before the portal of
the khan that then stood outside the village gates, near a junction
of roads.

CHAPTER IX

To understand thoroughly what happened to the Nazarene at the khan,
the reader must be reminded that Eastern inns were different from the
inns of the Western world. They were called khans, from the Persian,
and, in simplest form, were fenced enclosures