Burton are well, if airily, lodged in a flat composed
of ten rooms, separated by a corridor, with a picture of our Saviour, a
statuette of St. Joseph with a lamp, and the Madonna with another lamp
burning before it. Thus far the belongings are all of the Cross; but
no sooner are we landed in the little drawing-rooms than signs of the
Crescent appear. Small, but artistically arranged, the rooms, opening in
to one another, are bright with oriental hangings, with trays and dishes
of gold and silver, brass trays and goblets, chibouques with great amber
mouthpieces, and all kinds of Eastern treasures mingled with family
souvenirs. There is no carpet; but a Bedawin rug occupies the middle of
the floor, and vies in brilliancy of colour with Persian enamels and bits
of good old china. There are no sofas, but plenty of divans covered with
Damascus stuffs. Thus far the interior is as Mussulman as the exterior
is Christian; but a curious effect is produced among the oriental _mise
en scene_ by the presence of a pianoforte and a compact library of well-
chosen books. There is too another library here, greatly cherished by
Mrs. Burton; to wit, a collection of her husband's work in about fifty
volumes. On the walls there are many interesting relics, medals, and
diplomas for honour, one of which is especially prized by Captain Burton.
It is the _brevet de pointe_ earned in France for swordsmanship. Near
this hangs a picture of the Damascus home of the Burtons, by Frederick
Leighton.
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