Haifa received a letter from the secretary-general of the Syrian Women's League, inviting her to Damascus to attend a meeting of the greatest importance, and pressing her, as the representative of her district, to prepare a speech on women's right to vote.

Haifa applied herself to the writing of her speech, spending the hours of the night polishing its phrases, and when she finished it, around two o'clock in the morning, she felt utterly worn out. The next day she was busy all through the morning hours packing her bags, and after she had satisfied herself that everything was in order, she sat down in a comfortable chair on the veranda of her large house to take some rest.

It was early spring, and the hills surrounding the village had put on a splendid new garment in which enchanting colors intertwined. The glori-ous sun of Syria stood at mid-heaven, shining beneath its clear blue, and the gentle west wind blew warm, refreshing the spirit. Sitting thus at her ease, her eyelids all but closed, Haifa let her gaze wander over the beau-tiful scenes around her, over those hills she loved with a love that had taken possession of all her senses, and over the land that meant every-thing to her. Whenever she spoke of this land, it was with the speech of love and worship. Suddenly she heard the hoofbeats of a horse passing on the road directly below the veranda. She raised her head unhurriedly and looked toward the road, and saw Adnan coming toward her house.

Adnan was one of the young men of the village. She had grown up with him and shared with him the years of study, first at school and then at the university. He dismounted in the courtyard of the house and walked toward her, smiling, striding with his tall figure and his slender form like a cypress, his bright dark face aglow.

Haifa said, pointing to a bamboo chair beside her own and smiling a sweet smile: "Please sit down, Adnan Bey."

Adnan thanked her and sat down, gazing into her calm hazel eyes with a look full of admiration, for Haifa was a comely girl with a beautiful face, made all the more bewitching by her black hair, which she let fall to her shoulders.

Adnan said: "I have come to ask you to go out riding with me on our horses this splendid morning. We can go up to the hills and roam among the fir and oak trees."

She smiled at him playfully, then said, laughing: "You never do choose your moments well."

Adnan started, and the flush of surprise rose to his face; but Haifa clapped her hands and called her maid, who hurried to answer the call. She ordered her to bring cigarettes and coffee, then turned to Adnan and fixed him with looks that held something of a challenge, saying: "Why did you not propose this idea the day before yesterday?"

Adnan found himself in the position of the defendant, and his tongue was tied, when he had supposed that by extending this invitation he would be doing her a favor and putting her in the position of the defendant instead. Before long, however, he said, stammering: "I am sorry to say that yesterday I was absorbed in work at the farm, trying to restore the old house my forefathers left me; and the day before, I went to the district seat."

Haifa said to herself: "A man who can restore a small farm may one day, if the opportunity comes his way, restore an entire nation." Then she said, addressing Adnan: "I would have loved with all my heart to go on this ride, but I feel very tired just now, and tomorrow morning I go to Damascus to attend a congress of our league. Last night I prepared a speech, and you know how much time it takes me to pack my things whenever I go to the capital. And how eager I am to see His Excellency the Minister of the Interior, the friend of my late father!"

Adnan said: "I too shall be going to Damascus in the near future."

She came back at him in a mock-ing tone: "To deliver a speech?"

Adnan said, paying no heed to her mockery: "No — to shoot pigeons in the Ghouta."

"You have never in your life gone to the Ghouta to shoot pigeons. There must be other reasons for your journey."

"So that I may be near you if you stay a long while in Damascus. It has rightly been said that the loveliest things on this earth are the spring of Damascus and the autumn of Beirut."

— And yet I still doubt the truth of this reason you have invented.

— It is the very truth.

— I do not believe what you say.

— I know you do not believe it. But time and time again you have shown your unswerving desire that your husband should be a high official of the state, and I fear that one of these officials may come forward to ask for your hand while you are in Damascus.

Adnan was giving voice to a truth she made no attempt to conceal.