ly, and after that raised it up again till it rested on the foot
of the saint. As she stood there she heard the departing voices of the
girls and children singing the last verse of the vesper hymn, as they
followed the friar off the causeway of the bridge into the Kleinseite.

She was determined that she would persevere. She had endured that which
made it impossible that she should recede, and had sworn to herself a
thousand times that she would never endure that which would have to be
endured if she remained longer in this cruel world. There would be no
roof to cover her now but the roof in the Windberg-gasse, beneath which
there was to her a hell upon earth. No; she would face the anger of
all the saints rather than eat the bitter bread which her aunt would
provide for her. And she would face the anger of all the saints rather
than fall short in her revenge upon her lover. She had given herself to
him altogether--for him she had been half-starved, when, but for him,
she might have lived as a favoured daughter in her aunt's house--for
him she had made it impossible to herself to regard any other man with
a spark of affection--for his sake she had hated her cousin Ziska--
her cousin who was handsome, and young, and rich, and had loved her--
feeling that the very idea that she could accept love from anyone but
Anton had been an insult to her. She had trusted Anton as though his
word had been gospel to her. She had obeyed him in everything, allowing
him to scold her as though she were already subject to his rule; and,
to speak the truth, she had enjoyed such treatment, obtaining from it
a certain assurance that she was already his own. She had loved him
entirely, had trusted him altogether, had been prepared to bear all
that the world could fling upon her for his sake, wanting nothing in
return but that he should know that she was true to him.

This he had not known, nor had he been able to understand such truth.
It had not been possible to him to know it. The inborn suspicion of
his nature had broken out in opposition to his love, forcing her to
acknowledge to herself that she had been wrong in loving a Jew. He had
been unable not to suspect her of some vile scheme by which she might
possibly cheat him of his property, if at the last moment she should
not become his wife. She told herself that she understood it all now--
that she could see into his mind, dark and gloomy as were its recesses.
She had wasted all her heart