ughter who despises her
father will bring her husband to grief."

"Does she that?"

Simonides went on:

"Balthasar is a wise man who has been wonderfully favored for a
Gentile, and his faith becomes him; yet she makes a jest of it.
I heard her say, speaking of him yesterday, 'The follies of youth
are excusable; nothing is admirable in the aged except wisdom,
and when that goes from them, they should die.' A cruel speech,
fit for a Roman. I applied it to myself, knowing a feebleness
like her father's will come to me also--nay, it is not far off.
But you, Esther, will never say of me--no, never--'It were better he
were dead.' No, your mother was a daughter of Judah."

With half-formed tears, she kissed him, and said, "I am my mother's
child."

"Yes, and my daughter--my daughter, who is to me all the Temple
was to Solomon."

After a silence, he laid his hand upon her shoulder, and resumed:
"When he has taken the Egyptian to wife, Esther, he will think of
you with repentance and much calling of the spirit; for at last he
will awake to find himself but the minister of her bad ambition.
Rome is the centre of all her dreams. To her he is the son of Arrius
the duumvir, not the son of Hur, Prince of Jerusalem."

Esther made no attempt to conceal the effect of these words.

"Save him, father! It is not too late!" she said, entreatingly.

He answered, with a dubious smile, "A man drowning may be saved;
not so a man in love."

"But you have influence with him. He is alone in the world. Show him
his danger. Tell him what a woman she is."

"That might save him from her. Would it give him to you, Esther? No,"
and his brows fell darkly over his eyes. "I am a servant, as my
fathers were for generations; yet I could not say to him, 'Lo,
master, my daughter! She is fairer than the Egyptian, and loves
thee better!' I have caught too much from years of liberty and
direction. The words would blister my tongue. The stones upon the
old hills yonder would turn in their beds for shame when I go out
to them. No, by the patriarchs, Esther, I would rather lay us both
with your mother to sleep as she sleeps!"

A blush burned Esther's whole face.

"I did not mean you to tell him so, father. I was concerned for
him alone--for his happiness, not mine. Because I have dared love
him, I shall keep myself worthy his respect; so only can I excuse
my folly. Let me read his letter now."

"Yes, read it."

She began at once, in haste to co