a home to take you to
in the neighborhood of her friends, that she may join you there. Pray
grant me this wish. It will enable me to be with you often in the hours
when Mirah is obliged to leave you. That is my selfish reason. But the
chief reason is, that Mirah will desire to watch over you, and that you
ought to give her the guardianship of a brother's presence. You shall
have books about you. I shall want to learn of you, and to take you out
to see the river and trees. And you will have the rest and comfort that
you will be more and more in need of--nay, that I need for you. This is
the claim I make on you, now that we have found each other."

Deronda spoke in a tone of earnest, affectionate pleading, such as he
might have used to a venerated elder brother. Mordecai's eyes were
fixed on him with a listening contemplation, and he was silent for a
little while after Deronda had ceased to speak. Then he said, with an
almost reproachful emphasis--

"And you would have me hold it doubtful whether you were born a Jew!
Have we not from the first touched each other with invisible
fibres--have we not quivered together like the leaves from a common
stem with stirring from a common root? I know what I am outwardly, I am
one among the crowd of poor--I am stricken, I am dying. But our souls
know each other. They gazed in silence as those who have long been
parted and meet again, but when they found voice they were assured, and
all their speech is understanding. The life of Israel is in your veins."

Deronda sat perfectly still, but felt his face tingling. It was
impossible either to deny or assent. He waited, hoping that Mordecai
would presently give him a more direct answer. And after a pause of
meditation he did say, firmly--

"What you wish of me I will do. And our mother--may the blessing of the
Eternal be with her in our souls!--would have wished it too. I will
accept what your loving kindness has prepared, and Mirah's home shall
be mine." He paused a moment, and then added in a more melancholy tone,
"But I shall grieve to part from these parents and the little ones. You
must tell them, for my heart would fail me."

"I felt that you would want me to tell them. Shall we go now at once?"
said Deronda, much relieved by this unwavering compliance.

"Yes; let us not defer it. It must be done," said Mordecai, rising with
the air of a man who has to perform a painful duty. Then came, as an
afterthought, "But do not dwell on m