Tell me, and I will help Amrah doctor you.
She knows the cures of the Egyptians, who were always a stupid set; but I have a great many recipes of the Arabs who— ”
“Are even more stupid than the Egyptians,” he said, shaking his head.
“Do you think so? Very well, then,” she replied, almost without pause, and putting her hands to her left ear. “We will have nothing to do with any of them.
I have here what is much surer and better— the amulet which was given to some of our people— I cannot tell when, it was so far back— by a Persian magician.
See, the inscription is almost worn out.”
She offered him the earring, which he took, looked at, and handed back, laughing.
“If I were dying, Tirzah, I could not use the charm.
It is a relic of idolatry, forbidden every believing son and daughter of Abraham.
Take it, but do not wear it any more.”
“Forbidden!
Not so,” she said. “Our father’s mother wore it I do not know how many Sabbaths in her life.
It has cured I do not know how many people— more than three anyhow.
It is approved— look, here is the mark of the rabbis.”
“I have no faith in amulets.”
She raised her eyes to his in astonishment.
“What would Amrah say?”
“Amrah’s father and mother tended sakiyeh for a garden on the Nile.”
“But Gamaliel!”
“He says they are godless inventions of unbelievers and Shechemites.”
Tirzah looked at the ring doubtfully.
“What shall I do with it?”
“Wear it, my little sister.
It becomes you— it helps make you beautiful, though I think you that without help.”
Satisfied, she returned the amulet to her ear just as Amrah entered the summer chamber, bearing a platter, with wash-bowl, water, and napkins.
Not being a Pharisee, the ablution was short and simple with Judah.
The servant then went out, leaving Tirzah to dress his hair.
When a lock was disposed to her satisfaction, she would unloose the small metallic mirror which, as was the fashion among her fair countrywomen, she wore at her girdle, and gave it to him, that he might see the triumph, and how handsome it made him.
Meanwhile they kept up their conversation.
“What do you think, Tirzah?— I am going away.”
She dropped her hands with amazement.
“Going away!
When?
Where?
For what?”
He laughed.
“Three questions, all in a breath!
What a body you are!”
Next instant he became serious.
“You know the law requires me to follow some occupation.
Our good father set me an example.
Even you would despise me if I spent in idleness the results of his industry and knowledge.
I am going to Rome.”
“Oh, I will go with you.”
“You must stay with mother.
If both of us leave her she will die.”
The brightness faded from her face.
“Ah, yes, yes!
But— must you go?
Here in Jerusalem you can learn all that is needed to be a merchant— if that is what you are thinking of.”