Old Balatka did not answer for a while, having turned himself in his bed to think of the proposition which had been made to him. "Would you not like to have me for a son-in-law better than a Jew, uncle Josef?" said Ziska, pleading for himself as best he knew how to plead.  

"Have you ever spoken to Nina?" said the old man.  

"Well, no; not exactly to say what I have said to you. When one loves a girl as I love her, somehow — I don't know how — But I am ready to do so at once.  

"Ah, Ziska, if you had done it sooner!"  

"But is it too late? You say she has taken up with this man because you are both so poor. She cannot like a Jew best."  

"But she is true — so true!"  

"If you mean about her promise to Trendellsohn, Father Jerome would tell her in a minute that she should not keep such a promise to a Jew."  

"She would not mind Father Jerome."  

"And what does she mind? Will she not mind you?"  

"Me; yes — she will mind me, to give me my food."  

"Will she not obey you?"  

"How am I to bid her obey me? But I will try, Ziska."  

"You would not wish her to marry a Jew?"  

"No, Ziska; certainly I should not wish it."  

"And you will give me your consent?"  

"Yes, if it be any good to you."  

"It will be good if you will be round with her, telling her that she must not do such a thing as this. Love a Jew! It is impossible. As you have been so very poor, she may be forgiven for having thought of it. Tell her that, uncle Josef; and whatever you do, be firm with her."  

"There she is in the next room," said the father, who had heard his daughter's entrance. Ziska's face had assumed something of a defiant look while he was recommending firmness to the old man; but now 

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