confession had led.

Till she had delivered her packet into the hands of Lotta Luxa, she
maintained her spirits by the excitement of the thing she was doing.
Though she should die in the streets of hunger, she would take no money
from Ziska Zamenoy. But the question now was not only of her wants, but
of her father's. That she, for herself, would be justified in returning
Ziska's money there could be no doubt; but was she equally justified in
giving back money that had been given to her father? As she walked to
the Windberg-gasse, still holding the parcel of notes in her hand, she
had no such qualms of conscience; but as she returned, when it was
altogether too late for repentance, she made pictures to herself of
terrible scenes in which her father suffered all the pangs of want,
because she had compelled him to part with this money. If she were to
say one word to Anton Trendellsohn, all her trouble on that head would
be over. Anton Trendellsohn would at once give her enough to satisfy
their immediate wants. In a month or two, when she would be Anton's
wife, she would not be ashamed to take everything from his hand; and
why should she be ashamed now to take something from him to whom she
was prepared to give everything? But she was ashamed to do so. She felt
that she could not go to him and ask him for bread. One other resource
she had. There remained to her of her mother's property a necklace,
which was all that was left to her from her mother. And when this
had been given to her at her mother's death, she had been specially
enjoined not to part with it. Her father then had been too deeply
plunged in grief to say any words on such a subject, and the gift had
been put into her hands by her aunt Sophie. Even aunt Sophie had been
softened at that moment, and had shown some tenderness to the orphan
child. "You are to keep it always for her sake," aunt Sophie had said;
and Nina had hitherto kept the trinket, when all other things were
gone, in remembrance of her mother. She had hitherto reconciled herself
to keeping her little treasure, when all other things were going, by
the sacredness of the deposit; and had told herself that even for her
father's sake she must not part with the gift which had come to her
from her mother. But now she comforted herself by the reflection that
the necklace would produce for her enough to repay her father that
present from Ziska which she had taken from him. Her father had pleaded
sorely to