Sunday Feb 4. Jerusalem [(El Quds esh Sherif, Yerushalayim)]. Dearest Mother. Friday brought me a large post from all my family which I was particularly glad to get as I had been pining for letters. I rather hope that this may not catch you in England and I shall be very glad to hear that you are all off. Your last letters, written a few days before Aunt Ada's death, make one feel that it was impossible to wish that she should have lived, but that doesn't make it any better for Uncle Arthur and her boys. I am much entertained by Beatrice Chamberlain's manifestations - foolish woman! And the Dean! the account of the prayer meeting was very funny. I gather that the government is being very severely, and not unjustly, criticised. My papers have begun again and I have heard by Egyptian telegrams of Buller's retreat which is most discouraging. One did hope that better times were beginning. I agree with you both about Maurice. One will be very anxious when he is out there, and still I feel that he could not have done anything but volunteer and it is right that he should go. Papa seems to have been very wise about it, as he is about most things, all, I might say. You know, I can't go into mourning here; I have no black things at all, and there is nothing whatever to be bought in Jerusalem. Do you mind? If you do, you would have to send me out some things. We have had a week of most delicious weather which has changed this morning and looks like rain. However it will be very good for all the things we have planted so diligently. We spent a long afternoon gardening on Thursday and had tea in the garden - the 1st of Feb! it was hot and lovely. On Friday I went for a walk by myself, down into the Valley of the Convent of the Cross, and gathered a big basket full of scarlet anemones. A most beautiful white clematis has just come out, it grows over the rocks and is covered with very sweet scented flowers. Yesterday Nina gave a picnic at Ain Karim - John the Baptist's village. It looked very unaustere, for the whole valley was full of almond trees, white and pink with flower. The Dickson family came and Mr Dunn, an Englishman who converts Jews and lives next door to me here, quite nice. The Dicksons are dears, I like them all. It was a most successful party. The little boys came, of course. We talked about volunteering and some one asked them whether they would like to kill anyone. Oscar declined, but George was fire and flames and presently announced that what he wanted to kill was a dragon! We went into the Yacovlews after dinner and Nina and Mme Y (who is a very good musician) played while Dr R. [Rosen] and Y. talked politics. It was nice. I see sheets of water falling over Moab - most suitable for a wash pot, by the way - but the rain hasn't come here yet. This is an exceptional year - it always is when one comes to a country - but for once exceptional in a way that suits me. They have as yet had barely a third of their normal rainfall and they are afraid that all the cisterns will run dry in the autumn.
Goodbye, dearest Mother. Ever your very affectionate daughter Gertrude