"
"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 that
the girl of whom he had spoken was so near at hand, there returned to
his brow the young calf-like expression with which Lotta Luxa was so
well acquainted.


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