r was present in him, as he said, with some tremor in his
voice--

"Then are we to part and I never be anything to you?"

"It is better so," said the Princess, in a softer, mellower voice.
"There could be nothing but hard duty for you, even if it were possible
for you to take the place of my son. You would not love me. Don't deny
it," she said, abruptly, putting up her hand. "I know what is the
truth. You don't like what I did. You are angry with me. You think I
robbed you of something. You are on your grandfather's side, and you
will always have a condemnation of me in your heart."

Deronda felt himself under a ban of silence. He rose from his seat by
her, preferring to stand, if he had to obey that imperious prohibition
of any tenderness. But his mother now looked up at him with a new
admiration in her glance, saying--

"You are wrong to be angry with me. You are the better for what I did."
After pausing a little, she added, abruptly, "And now tell me what you
shall do?"

"Do you mean now, immediately," said Deronda; "or as to the course of
my future life?"

"I mean in the future. What difference will it make to you that I have
told you about your birth?"

"A very great difference," said Deronda, emphatically. "I can hardly
think of anything that would make a greater difference."

"What shall you do then?" said the Princess, with more sharpness. "Make
yourself just like your grandfather--be what he wished you--turn
yourself into a Jew like him?"

"That is impossible. The effect of my education can never be done away
with. The Christian sympathies in which my mind was reared can never
die out of me," said Deronda, with increasing tenacity of tone. "But I
consider it my duty--it is the impulse of my feeling--to identify
myself, as far as possible, with my hereditary people, and if I can see
any work to be done for them that I can give my soul and hand to I
shall choose to do it."

His mother had her eyes fixed on him with a wondering speculation,
examining his face as if she thought that by close attention she could
read a difficult language there. He bore her gaze very firmly,
sustained by a resolute opposition, which was the expression of his
fullest self. She bent toward him a little, and said, with a decisive
emphasis--

"You are in love with a Jewess."

Deronda colored and said, "My reasons would be independent of any such
fact."

"I know better. I have seen what men are," said the Princess,
pere