If not, Richard
used to read himself to sleep, and I did the same. Of Richard's great
and many activities at Damascus, of his difficult and dangerous work,
of his knowledge of Eastern character and Eastern languages, of his
political and diplomatic talents, all of which made him just the man
for the place, I have written elsewhere. Here I have to perform the
infinitely harder task of speaking of myself. But in writing of my
daily life at Damascus I must not forget that my first and best work
was to interest myself in all my husband's pursuits, and to be, as far
as he would allow me to be, his companion, his private secretary, and
his _aide-de-camp_. Thus I saw and learnt much, not only of native life,
but also of high political matters. I would only say that my days were
all too short: I wish they had been six hours longer. When not helping
Richard, my work consisted of looking after my house, servants, stables
and horses, of doing a little gardening, of reading, writing, and
studying, of trying to pick up Arabic, of receiving visits and returning
them, of seeing and learning Damascus thoroughly, and looking after the
poor and sick who came in my way. I often also had a gallop over the
mountains and plains; or I went shooting, either on foot or on horseback.
The game was very wild round Damascus, but I got a shot at redlegged
partridges, wild duck, quail, snipe, and woodcock, and I seldom came
home with an empty bag.
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