did your father say?"

"Father did not say much. He is poorly and weak."

"Yes, yes; not strong enough to fight against the abomination of a Jew
son-in-law. And what did your aunt say? She is strong enough to fight
anybody."

"She was very angry."

"I suppose so, I suppose so. Well, she is right. As the world goes in
Prague, my child, you will degrade yourself by marrying a Jew."

"I want nothing prouder than to be Anton's wife," said Nina.

"And to speak sooth," said the old man, "the Jew will degrade himself
fully as much by marrying you."

"Father, I would not have that. If I thought that my love would injure
him, I would leave him."

"He must judge for himself," said Trendellsohn, relenting somewhat.

"He must judge for himself and for me too," said Nina.

"He will be able, at any rate, to keep a house over your head."

"It is not for that," said Nina, thinking of her cousin Ziska's offer.
She need not want for a house and money if she were willing to sell
herself for such things as them.

"Anton will be rich, Nina, and you are very poor."

"Can I help that, father? Such as I am, I am his. If all Prague were
mine I would give it to him."

The old man shook his head. "A Christian thinks that it is too much
honour for a Jew to marry a Christian, though he be rich, and she have
not a ducat for her dower."

"Father, your words are cruel. Do you believe I would give Anton my
hand if I did not love him? I do not know much of his wealth; but,
father, I might be the promised wife of a Christian to-morrow, who is,
perhaps, as rich as he--if that were anything."

"And who is that other lover, Nina?"

"It matters not. He can be nothing to me--nothing in that way. I love
Anton Trendellsohn, and I could not be the wife of any other but him."

"I wish it were otherwise. I tell you so plainly to your face. I wish
it were otherwise. Jews and Christians have married in Prague, I know,
but good has never come of it. Anton should find a wife among his own
people; and you--it would be better for you to take that other offer of
which you spoke."

"It is too late, father."

"No, Nina, it is not too late. If Anton would be wise, it is not too
late."

"Anton can do as he pleases. It is too late for me. If Anton thinks it
well to change his mind, I shall not reproach him. You can tell him so,
father--from me."

"He knows my mind already, Nina. I will tell him, however, what you say
of your own friends. They hav