hen hath man given his betrothed so
rich a gift? Proud will thy fair sister be to receive it."

"I would have Mary come," Lazarus said, and leaving the house, he went
into the garden. At the far end Mary was sitting under a glossy green
pomegranate which was in full crimson blossom. Clad in white and with
her silver bound veil falling softly about her, she made a picture
worth pausing a moment to view. She held the nest of young birds in
one hand and moved the other slowly over them, until, roused by the
wing-like motion, they opened wide their yellow mouths for the food she
dropped in. Lazarus watched a moment before seating himself near her.
"Mary, my sister," he said, "Zador Ben Amon is an Israelite high and
mighty and hath set his heart on thee."

"Nay. Nay," she replied quickly. "He is a heathen and his heart is
set on shekels and talents."

"He hath brought thee a betrothal gift."

Mary was silent until she had closed her hand over the crying
nestlings. Then she turned to Lazarus. "Dost thou want me to leave
thee, my brother?"

"Nay, nay, Mary. Not so. I would keep thee always if thou wouldst.
Yet there cometh a time when a woman's heart goeth out to another man
than her brother. Thou art different from Martha and setteth much
store on things not sold in market places. Let not thy answer come
from the mouth of a nightingale. When thy arms grow hungry for little
ones and thy breast casts about for him who shall be father to them,
Zador Ben Amon--"

Further words were cut short by an exclamation from Mary who drew back
in horror.

"What is it?" and Lazarus looked about. "What abominable thing cometh
nigh thee?"

For a moment Mary made no reply. With her brother's reference to
little ones which should come of her union with the money-changer, she
had felt again the passion unspeakable that had for the moment gripped
her at touch of the Bedouin baby's lips. Yet as it swept through her
now it was the passion of utter revulsion, such passionate revulsion as
had stamped itself on her face when her brother looked about for some
ugly, creeping reptile. "Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings
cometh wisdom," she seemed to hear the Rabbi say again, and without
understanding the mystery of the wisdom, she knew it had come through
the mouth of the Bedouin baby. "Not from the mouth of a nightingale
shall my answer come," said Mary. "But if thou lovest me, speak no
more forever of wedding me with